Vidarth:Ebony and Irony (V'Day Spinoff)

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her eyes met his and then the ache within them both ceased to exist for a while.

the ache in his worn muscles, his hope deprivated soul.

the ache in her love deficient heart.

the world stopped then, except for their small, bearly audible sounds of astonished breathing and the drop of sweat rolling down his neck.

they took each other in, starting with the outward changes.

gold that adorned her body.

grease that graffitied his.

the creases on his skin, marking the presence of stress 

the lack of any laugh lines on hers, marking her face with emptiness.

her husband returned, coughing and wheezing, the old man was so preoccupied with his cell phone that he did not notice the silken handkerchief  that fell out of his wife's open window.

Nor did the old man see the grease covered hand that tainted it.

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she walked in circles, clutching the edge of her zari bordered sari for support.

would he show up?

would he not?

he was a man of morals. 

it was morals that had torn them apart.

and if anything, she mused, it was morals that could keep them apart.

minutes passed by, minutes  as long as the months she had spent without him.

her fingers fisted in the white material of her sari, her face scrunched up in annoyance.

what had had she thought, she mused, turning her back on the motel room door.

that he would be with the wife of another man?

how would  he who would condemn a lie commit a sin such as this?

her hopes fell as quickly as they had risen and she closed her eyes tight to stop the tears that threatened to overtake the rest of her being.

she had lived 5 years without him. shouldn't she be used to his absence?

except it was like a missing limb. something that ached with phantom pain as real as anyother. she covered up her sorrow with expensive jewels gifted to her by a neglecting husband too preoccupied with matters of the material world, a man too sick, too frail provide anything but monetary luxury in exchange for an image of a obedient , graceful centerpiece.

how she hated her life. 

not her life. her life was perfect. except it lacked him.

and how she hated him.

the want in his eyes when he had picked up her token of promise with her number scribbled on it . the text that had said he would meet her soon, provided she herself wanted to. 

her answer had been an instant yes, despite his formal reply and the date and time he'd sent her the next day.

she'd made an excuse of buying some new saris and gotten out. her 'dear' doddering fool of a husband had bearly looked up from his cell phone. good for her.

but a fat lot of good it had done her, waiting.

wringing her sari pallu in her fingers she wished she could wring his neck instead.

how she hated, hated, hated him.

the creak of the door made her turn around and she gasped.

there he was. 10 minutes late.

sweaty and covered in grime and grease.

but there he was.

and he was a lovely sight.

or would have been if he did not have a sneer on his face.

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she made a move to touch his face, to assure herself he was tangible and not one of her dreams.

he held up his hand, motioning her to stop.

her hand froze in midair, inches away from his cheek.

his eyes never left hers as his hand moved to mirror hers, inches away from her cheek.

she could no longer take it.

she needed to feel him, to know he was real.

when she threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, he stiffened, not moving  at all, even when she buried her face in the crook of his neck, having to stand on her tip toes to do so.

he could feel moisture on his shoulder and that was when his arms, tired of waiting, crushed her within their grip.

the pain was nothing compared to being engulfed by the very man whose absence ate her up, piece by bitter piece.

they stayed like that, till they moved away, seeking greater intimacy. 

his lips smashed into hers, his hands touching her waist, clutching at the white material of her sari. 

they were opposites, for better and for worse.

and all these years without each other found them trying to conquer the other with pent up rage. tongues fought for dominance and the upper hand, wanting the other to admit they were wrong.

and before they knew it, they had travelled across the dingy little room to the moth eaten bed.

he let go of her, pushing her on the bed and watching as she fell with a thud into the yellowed sheets.

her black hair contrasted with the white colour of her sari and there she was, before him, her dark eyes hooking into his soul, her lips swollen and red, like the blood pumping through his veins.

Ebony and Irony.

that was her, wearing white for an occasion that was hardly an innocent one.

"undress." he commanded, his voice laced with lust.

lust and need and want and craving and a million other things that needed to be expressed before he spontaneously  combusted, taking her with him in an infernal blaze.

she just looked at him, blinking, her eyes wide.

"undress." he did not like repeating himself and his displeasure  showed in the curl of his lips.

"P.." her lips ached to say his name outloud but the man infront of her was not to be pacified by words.

"now" his low voice stirred something within her.

not taking her eyes off him, she got off the bed and moved to face him. 

she sucked in a deep breath and nodded, gently taking hold of the folds of the sari and undoing it, but her shaking, eager hands were too slow.

yanking her toward himself by her waist, Parth pulled the sari off her from and let it fall to her feet in a pool of white.

next was the white thing she wore, a petticoat style thing. who cared what it was called. all he wanted was to have it off her, to remove every barrier that hid her from him.

and then, his hands went to the hooks of her blouse.

he let his hands rest there, feeling her chest rise and fall for a small silent moment before he unhooked the blouse, never taking his eyes off her own.

the longing in those eyes matched her own, but there was something more in those dark eyes of him, something as black as his eyes. 

something  that made her breath hitch as he pulled the blouse , the cotton trailing down her arms and then falling to join the clothes on the floor.

his hands then pulled her flush against him before they journeyed to the hooks of her brassiere.

unclasped, the nude coloured garment was carelessly discared on the floor.

just like the person who had worn it was pushed back on the bed.

she lay there, watching him discard his own grimy clothes to the floor, just as restlessly as hers had been discarded, till he stood, open to her devouring glare.

she made a move to remove the jewels she was wearing, she didn't want them to hurt him or herself.

she found her hands pinned above her head, him crotching over her as if she was a meal and he was famished.

she tried to free her hands and remove the heavy gold adornments.

his grip on her tightened, one finger of his other hand lifting the gold magalsutra off her skin and letting it fall back  to her open chest.

the message was clear. she was to keep the jewels on.

his eyes roamed over her face, her neck, her shoulders.

his free hand traced her neck, and went south, brushing over her sensitive skin, making her shiver in want.

lowering his mouth to her chest, he kissed her collarbone, hand on her chest groping an squeezing, melding pleasure and pain.

her heavy gold necklace felt like it was attempting to strangle her but she couldn't help the cat grin that twisted her lips as she admired what was going to be hers.

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she was wrong.

he wasn't going to be hers.

she was going to be his.

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when they were lovers he had let her take charge,given her what she wanted without her having to voice it.

now that she was no longer his lover, it seemed that he had lost the intention of loving her.

what followed was torture.

sweet, sweet torture.

he used only his mouth, no matter how much she pleaded for him to take her, no matter how much she said she wanted him not just his tongue.

her lips were swollen and puffy, her throat hoarse from the begging.

she felt like a wanton wh**e, an addict, craving him.

all of him.

his hands and his lips had explored every inch of her, his mouth on her neck and his hand down south, teasing her.

"no more." she whimpered. "just do it"

"i've waited for a release for 5 f%%king long years." he growled , adding another finger.

"bullshit, you don't expect me to believe that you haven't got off for 5 years" she scoffed.

he removed his hand from her core, making her whimper at the loss.

"it was not you i was with. it wasn't the same. i want you to crave it as i crave it." he growled, lowering himself and pressing hard against her.

"i want you. please. take me." she could not take it anymore.

"why should i take you? you have a husband" he growled, his tongue reaching sensitive spot that made her feel like her insides were turning to liquid heat.

"because...because..." she gasped.

his fingers encouraged her to emit a loud moan before she could continue.

"you are more of a man...than he will ever be. " she trembled

"and?" the grimace on his face deepened.

"you...only you.. can.. satisfy me." she mewled her 

his fingers stopped 

"and?" he smirked, pushing again, hard and fast.

"i'm yours...always have been" she admitted, a tear trailing down her cheek.

not wasting a single moment , he let go of her wrists and gripped her at the waist.

"and what do you want me to do, Vidushi" the emphasis on her name did not go unnoticed.

"i want you...to make me yours." she moaned with abandon, not caring what he did next, she just wanted to feel him.

"the pleasure" he went in with a single thrust "will be all mine"

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her nails dug and clawed at torso and scalp as he ravaged her, making her feel like she was going to die if he stopped.

"more"

"harder"

"faster"

she begged and pleaded 

and he gave as much as he took.

he toppled over her sweaty body, his head on her chest, feeling her contented whimper as he kissed her chest.

his hands travelled to her face, cupping her cheeks and wiping off her tears.

she'd come not once, but five times, each time a quivering, spent mess in his arms.

"that..was" she exhaled "amazing."

"get used to it." he chuckled darkly, his hands on her chest, rubbing circles over her heated skin.  

his mouth latched to the place where her neck and shoulder met.

"no. you can't. he'll see." her hands pushed him away.

"so?" he raised a brow.

"he will divorce me." vidushi rolled her eyes.

"let him. i don't care" parth placed his mouth on her collarbone and sucked.

"Parth stop..stop" she pushed him off her and sat up, rubbing at her skin.

"too late. i've marked you as you deserve to be marked"

her mouth opened in horror as she felt her sore skin.

it was definetely a hickey.

her eyes filled with tears. it was not one she could hide easily.

"what? " he asked, laughing cruelly at her crying face.

"you don't understand...he'll throw me out...i have nothing of my own...do you hate me so much parth that...you'd want me homeless...what have you done!" she wailed, trying to slap his cheek.

her hand met his flesh and a loud crack echoed in the hollow room.

"you should not have done that." she rubbed at the hickey, willing it to disappear.

"it won't leave. just like your tattoo was not meant to leave." his hand caressed the place where his name used to be.

it had been expertly hidden with swirls.

she shivered at his touch, his hands cold and unforgiving.

"you left me. you went with that red haired camera girl who had your dead girlfriends name. and i was suppossed to let your name stay on my throat? a symbol of ownership?" she growled.

"ownership?" he grabbed her mangalsutra "i'll replace this with a collar and a leash and tie you to my bed." he grabbed her neck "you don't know a thing about ownership."

she ignored the way his words made her feel, the way heat pooled in her belly and crawled up her neck.

"i am married to a man i do not love. i'm married to a man who looks at me like a pretty decoration. i'm married to man who doesn't touch me. i feel like an item more than a woman!" she whispered, her tears now falling freely.

"so leave him. come with me." his hands gripped her shoulders, his voice full of longing " we can be together again, you and me."

she shook her head 

the hands on her shoulder moved, one at her neck, gripping it tight enough to cause her pain, not choke her, the other gripping her wrists tight.

"otherwise i will have to take some extreme measures." he growled.

"you..wouldn't." Vidushi stammered, her eyes widening in disbelief.

"how you seduced me. your handkerchief with your number. the texts you sent me." he chuckled "the lack of any wounds on you"

"i'll say you forced me" vidushi tried to sound stern.

"a man like me?" he scoffed, letting go of her neck.

"a poor man like you. yes. why would i want a man like you parth? you have nothing to offer me."  vidushi scoffed.

she regetted the words as soon as they left her lips.

"i offered you my heart." his tone was pained. "you wanted more."

"i wanted you to work with me. i wanted to be happy" she argued.

"money isn't happiness. haven't you had enough vidushi?" he whispered, soft and lethal.

she broke down, nodding her head. 

"but i want you and the money" she said in a broken, desperate voice.

"if you choose money you will never see me again vidushi." he warned, his hand letting go of her wrists. "you can't have it all."

"don't make me choose parth. i've done this before. i can't live in fear.." she closed her eyes.

"3 meals a day, a warm bed, a good job and a man who loves you." parth offered.

"jewels, pretty things, being admired and desired." she countered.

"but not loved and respected. they don't love you for who you are but for what you wear. what a pathetic life" he scoffed.

"parth..i can't choose." she pleaded.

"and i" he sighed

" i can't lose"

"what.." his hand was back on her neck.

"you.."  the grip tightened.

"are" his other hand grabbed her wrists.

"only"  he pushed her to the bed and wiped off her sindoor with his thumb.

"mine."

 his lips slapped on her hers. 

hard and demanding.

she relented 

and he thought her surrender was the sweetest she had ever tasted.

she let him in, letting his tongue explore like his hands were charting a path up and down her body.

"yours." she whispered, letting his hands grab her mangalsutra.

"prove it then." he smirked.

she took the beads off her neck and threw it hard across the room.

"yours" she said, her voice warm and inviting, her arms held out.

he let himself drown in her embrace.

she let herself burn in his arms.

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"parth?" she took her head off his chest, her body sweaty and greasy, matching his.

round two had consisted of parth smearing grease over her body and wiping it off before he took her long and hard.

"hmm?" his contented whisper made her giggle like a ten.

"kill my husband. and then take his place." she offered.

his nose flared with disbelief and anger.

"you haven't changed at all. you selfish..." his words were stopped by a delicate finger on his lips.

"yes. i'm selfish, i'm a bitch. but you want this bitch. " she smirked.

" i will not kill for you" his voice was iron.

"will you die for me then?" she raised an eyebrow.

"you'd kill me?" he scoffed.

"no. but my husband will." she smirked.

colour left his face.

"look at me." she whispered.

and he did.

brusies and bite marks overed her dusky skin, his nails had dug into her skin.

she smelled of grease, sweat and sex.

and if she wanted, she could smell of suffering and pain.

"you bitch." he growled.

"you love this bitch. you want to possess this bitch." she pointed out.

"i'm going to hurt you so bad..." his fingers fisted, aching to hit something.

"you already did. in more ways than one. now it's my turn." she smirked.

"you are going to burn in hell vidushi" he shook his head.

"and i'm taking you with me." she winked, her arms wrapping around his neck.

his followed suit, his hands locking at her waist, hurting her as much as he could.

she winced at the pain he was causing her, biting her lip when he lifted her into his lap to claim her again. 

she winced in pain the whole while, savouring the way he felt inside her, her nails raking pain into his flesh.

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"how.." parth grunted

"will" 

another thrust

"we" 

moan.

thrust

"kill"

"him"

She smirked and then winced as he thrust harder.

"answer"

wince

"me"

thrust

"bitch"

Vidushi moaned as she found her release.

"he's depressed. he's on prescription drugs." she smirked

Parth groaned, thrusting some more 

"so?"

"he's taking too many of those pills." she added

"too risky. you are a gold digging trophy wife. you and i will be the obvious suspects." Parth thrust harder, making her hiss in pain.

"what do you suggest then?" she asked.

"i suggest..." he opened his mouth

"you will not talk me out of this!" she growled, biting down hard on her shoulder.

"no..but showing him the clip of us, f**king for hours and hearing how his wife plotted to kill him will definitely kill him" Parth cupped her bottom.

He found his release just as she went stiff, her lips quivering, her eyes pleading.

"you would...wouldn't" her voice was scared and small.

he found his lips curving upward.

"do i have to?" he asked.

"no..no you don't" she shook her head.

"do i have to kill him too?" he asked again, a cruel glint in his eyes.

"no..no.." she shook her head.

"will you divorce him and be mine?" he pressed his mouth to her covered tatoo

"and if i don't?" she asked

"you do not want to find out" he warned her.

gulping, she nodded.

"call him. right now. tell him you love me. tell him you want a divorce." Parth kissed her covered up tattoo.

"please..give me some time." she begged. "i need to sort this out carefully"

"i will not give you time to plot another murder. who knows. it might be mine this time. you will do as i say or you will find yourself getting more hits than Sunny Leone" his no nonsense tone chilled her.

she felt herself crumple against him.

"yes. yes." she nodded.

She was a spider caught in her own web.

a hunter trapped in her own trap.

she did as he ordered, point to point.

signed the papers her husband had sent to parth's address the next morning.

returned all the jewels she had worn.

she was left with nothing yet everything.