OS: Bairi Piya ... Bada Bedardi ...
She sat in front of the mirror, delicately untangling the dark, glossy locks of hair dripping with water with her dainty fingers. A towel rested on her shoulder on which nestled most of her hair. More than a few tendrils of short hair curled naughtily, framing her face glowing pink after the hot shower.
A faint sound of bells could be heard from downstairs, where the early morning puja must have commenced.
She gave up on her unruly hair, wrapped it up in the towel, and piled it in a haphazard bun on top of her head.
She quickly applied sindhoor on her parting, a bindi on her forehead, and a dash of kaajal for her lovely honey warm eyes.
She stood up and realized that in her hurry to get out of the bathroom and make way for him, she just wrapped her saree around, and didn't exactly drape it.
She sighed, and took off the saree to drape it properly. She took one end of the saree when a hand grabbed her hand.
She turned around in surprise, and her heart fluttered seeing him standing there ...
He came out of the shower, clad in a white towel, and was headed for the wardrobe when his gaze landed on her. She is usually dressed and out of the room by this time.
He watched her, mesmerized. She looked like a fragrant rose after a spring rain - drops of water clinging to her face and neck.
His heartbeats skipped and resumed at a faster pace when she took off her saree.
He didn't know when he moved - he found himself standing in front of her - like always, drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
She looked at his smoldering hot gaze - warm chocolate heating up darkly with desire - and blushed, color spreading becomingly over her cheeks. She tried futilely to release her hand held by him while her other hand came up, trying vainly to cover her choli-clad front. She looked down shyly, her breath coming in short gasps.
He wound one arm around her waist and pulled her close, her body flush against his'. One by one, he slowly released her fingers gripping the saree end.
He took the saree end, and moved even closer to her.
His entire length touching her, his face bent to the fragrant curve of her neck. He breathed in her essence, while slowly tucking the end of her saree in to her underskirt, his fingers and knuckles brushing warmly against her abdomen. She sucked in her breath audibly, her lips quivering, and hid her flaming face in his bare chest.
She heard his heart thundering, in a rhythm matching hers, and her lips curved against his skin.
He smiled, a small dimple dancing next to the corner of his lips, and bent to kiss her, and rubbed his stubbled jaw sensuously against her rosy cheek.
She gasped and looked up at him, accusingly. His eyebrow went up arrogantly in a question. She rubbed her reddening cheek in answer, lips in an adorable pout. And looked at the clock, her eyes rounding in alarm. He smirked naughtily, let her go after another quickly stolen hot kiss that took her breath away, and went back to the bathroom to give some work for the razor.
She stood for a soft moment suspended in time, a tremulous smile curving her lips, her eyes hazy with love, a hand resting on her crazily tattooing heartbeat.
A few minutes later, she flew down the stairs - rash because of the new soap, her mind supplied triumphantly, while her lips grumbled about a lover who always puts her in trouble.
And her heart sighed dreamily in remembered pleasure, already missing his warmth ... Ishsh ...
This work of fiction is entirely mine - please do not copy. - IS
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