The Pink Romance

The sky covered in onyx blanket held a serenity and purity of its own, the moon shone bright partially hidden in the cocoon of clouds. The stars twinkled bravely, scattered like shiny patchwork on the deep blanket. The last light of the day had set hours before, and now the hillside looked like a monochrome painting, the tall trees only dark shapes merging with the sloping hills beyond, creating shadow over shadow.

Naina stood staring at the dark surroundings through the glass windows for some time before drawing the heavy cream curtains across and turning to look into the room. If the hills were dark, the room she stood in was the exact opposite. Old time lamps hooked on the wall glowed yellow; the tapestry on the opposite wall depicted some tribal motif in bold blue and white, and a brick fireplace stood solid beneath it, the orange fire crackling in its hearth. A sturdy mahogany four poster stood 10 feet away from the fire, the pristine white of the satin sheets dulled to a yellow sheen because of the lamps. The sheer curtains were parted and tied to the strong columns that spiraled upward from the four corners of the bed. A sturdy table with two chairs was positioned at the corner, in a way that it could be used for dining and working both. A small wardrobe stood on the right side of the bed, and now held an assortment of sarees, salwar-kameez, shirts and trousers.

She looked down at her hands clad in red bangles, the mehndi still deep, and the diamond ring gleamed on her finger. “Mrs. Naina Sameer Maheshwari”, she whispered, testing the name. It sounded so special… and somehow so intimate. A week into their marriage, and still Naina felt everything to be so new. The sudden change in her attire, the requisite mangalsutra and sindur, the beechiya on her toes, and of course the man himself – Mr. Sameer Maheshwari, her husband…

A smile curved her lips, as she reminisced their wedding functions – the mehndi, haldi, sangeet, the seven pheras, bidaai, and how he had hugged her in the car, consoling her that she was not going away from anyone but rather stepping into a new world which would accommodate her old one too. She had been a sobbing mess, horrified later at the thought that she had smeared her makeup on his sherwani and now would look so bad during her grihpravesh. But Sameer had eased her worries, picked her up in his arms, and that was how they had stepped into their new home. He had later on, in their room, told her that he had dreamt several scenarios of grihpravesh and found this one most appealing. She had started to cry again, touched by how he had been dreaming of their life together and so eager to bring her here, and she had been an emotional mess during the whole process. Surprised he had hugged her again, asking shakily, “kya hua Naina?”

She had hiccupped, “tum itne sapne saja rahe the, aur main aise ro di. Saara make-up kharab ho gaya.”

He had chuckled, and whispered, “tum aise bhi bahot khubsurat lag rahi ho Mrs. Maheshwari.”

The title had surprised her, and looking at him dressed in that cream colored sherwani, her lipstick smeared on his shoulder, the reality of being his wife had finally sunk in. He had cupped her face, and slowly kissed her forehead making her gasp and clutch his sherwani tighter. “I love you Naina”, he had murmured hoarsely, and his lips had moved to her cheeks, her eyes had drifted shut, her heart racing but she hadn’t stopped him. She had recalled the repeated demands of kiss, and had been slightly scared about what would happen next. But he had stopped and gently asked her to change and freshen up. In a dilemma about what to wear, she had found the nighties Chachiji had bought for her, but holding a red gown in-front of her she had suddenly started to feel much too aware of her own body. How could she wear this in-front of Sameer? It was sleeveless, and the neckline was so deep, and why was it so short? Her mortification had increased when she recalled how she had teased Sameer about the pink nightie… What had she been thinking? Her breathing had accelerated at the thought of sharing a bed with Sameer while wearing this nightie. Red faced, she had stuffed the gown back in the suitcase, and instead pulled out a normal blue night suit. Still the way Sameer’s eyes had scanned her up and down had made her shiver with unknown sensations. Add to that, he had changed into tracks and tshirt, something she was seeing for the first time, and suddenly he looked so big to her, his shoulders broader that she had imagined, and the forearms were thick with sinews.

He had also freshened up while she had perched nervously on the edge of bed, unsure what to do. He had come back, sat next to her, and for a moment none of them had spoken anything. Slowly, he had held her hand, gently kissed her fingers, and assured, “itna ghabrao mat. Thak gai hogi aaj, so jao chalo.”

Surprised, she had looked up at him and blurted, “tum kiss nahi karoge?”

He had stared at her while she had clapped a hand over her mouth, and then he had dissolved into laughter. Clutching his stomach, he had teased, “wow Naina… Pata hota ke tum shaadi ke baad itni tezz niklogi toh main pehle tension leta hi nahi na.”

She had gasped at his audacity, and picked up a pillow, hitting him with it. Still laughing, he had grabbed the pillow, and said, “aree… isse mat maaro. Yeh mera Naina pillow hai, isko toh main hug karke sota hun.”

Unable to shut her mouth, she had blurted, “ab kyun pillow ko hug karna hai?”

For a moment both of them had frozen, and then he had tugged the pillow hard, resulting in her also moving forward, crashing on his chest, “thik keh rahi ho tum. Ab pillow ki zarurat nahi hai.”

Helplessly, she had stared up at him while he had tightened his hold on her, and his one big palm had stroked up her back to sink in her hair. His lips had nuzzled her temple, brushed feathery kisses on her cheek, and then brushed gently across the corner of her mouth. A surprised sound had escaped from her throat, and her lips had quivered, part in fear, part in anticipation. She had closed her eyes and waited, but he had kept on dropping those barely there kisses on her chin, on the corners of her mouth, his breath fanning her lips. Unable to take anymore, she had whimpered and her hands had slid up his shoulders to wound around his neck, and that was when he had kissed her fully on her mouth, but still kept it soft. He had lifted his head, a gap of fraction of an inch, and when her lips had parted again in anticipation, he had groaned and claimed her mouth. Slowly, gently he had coaxed her to open up to him totally, melt against him, and she had been helpless in-front of the sensations that he evoked in her body. She hadn’t known if her heart had thundered or his did, because she had been pressed completely to him. She hadn’t known how cold it had been outside because she had been secured in his warmth.

When he had finally pulled back, she had just buried her face against his throat, feeling as if the curve of his shoulders had been carved just perfectly so that she could rest her head there. He had made a satisfied humming sound, and then laid back on the bed with her still in his arms. Pulling the blanket over them, he had turned off the lights, and softly kissed her head. The pillow had laid discarded on the side of the bed, while she had curled up in his arms, and he had held her secured to his body. There had been a moment when Naina had wondered how were they supposed to sleep like this, but then she hadn’t known when the soothing steady beat of his heart against her ear had lulled her into sleep.

In the morning, she had woken up first to incredibly find herself still nestled against him, and one of his hands… aah… it had been inside her night suit top resting on her bare waist. Slightly shocked she had tried to shift, but the rub of his palm on her naked flesh had raised goosebumps all over her body. It was then that she had realized that her hand too was under his t-shirt, clutching at his back. How had she done that? Feeling a little disoriented with the unruly emotions in her, she had gently pulled back and slid off the bed.

The morning routine had been so different at Chachaji’s place, and here she struggled for a bit wondering what to do. She had taken a quick bath, and dressed up in a pink saree, and had decided to cook breakfast. But before that she had to wake up her husband, and so had started the process of calling him and then shyly shaking him. He had mumbled her name, and a dazzling smile had lit up his face as soon as he had seen her. Without the least bit of hesitation he had pulled her back to him, his hand trailing down her back, fingers skimming over fabric and flesh.

Ideally, it should have been the day for her pagphera, but their pandit had advised to do it next day according to mahurat, so essentially they had a gap in between. That entire day had passed in getting acquainted with the big house; with her thinking how would she manage this place. Her first cooking had been suji halwa which she had served as prasad in the big marble temple at their home. Sameer had sheepishly scratched his head and confessed that he hadn’t known what to buy for groceries, and there had been no one to guide him. So, after a hasty breakfast of bread-butter and tea, they had gone shopping with a long list of things. The whole day had passed in arranging things in their home, moments of stolen kisses that left her flushed, and sneaky touches that increased her heartbeats.

Standing in-front of the fire in the lodge, Naina now laughed at the way they had spent the first day rushing here and there, but it had been unique. And that night… God… it still took her breath away.

She had again changed into a night suit, this time a fuschia pink one, and resolutely ignored the gowns. When she had been standing at the dressing table in their room, applying cream, he had come from behind and hugged her. She had smiled, as the gesture had been normal to her after the whole day, but then he had dipped his head and kissed her softly on the side of her neck. Her breath had shuddered from her lungs and she had collapsed on his chest just at that soft gesture. He had slowly turned her to him, removed the pin from her hair and his eyes that gazed into hers had conveyed a multitude of desires. When he had found her lips, it had started soft, but before she could relax and enjoy he had pulled back disappointing her. While she had waited for him to kiss her again, he had cupped her face and softly asked if she trusted him. She had said yes, there was no question about it, but his next words had stunned her. He had slowly told her that there was more than kissing in marital relationship, and that he didn’t know how much she knew or how to explain to her, but if she trusted him enough then he would like to show. Her hands had fisted tight on his shirt, and she had trembled like a dry leaf, until he had held her tight and assured that there was no hurry, and that he could wait for her. His gentleness had cut through her fright, and just like that first day when she had seen him and dared to love, in that moment she again saw him clearly, this time as her husband and dared to take another step. With a simple declaration of her love, and a soft kiss, she had given her acceptance.

She had never thought that her body was capable of so many emotions, but what had transpired in the next few hours had truly made her realize what it felt like to be a woman, to be desired. He had picked her up in his arms, placing her on the bed so gently that she had thought he must fear that she would break. His kisses had been gentle as air, but had slowly turned to erotic as sin. He had made her reach a feverish pitch degree by degree only with his kisses. She had been so lost in the sensations of his lips on hers that she had never realized the wandering movements of his hands until his fingers had traced the soft swells above the simple cotton beneath her top. A frightened sound has erupted from her throat, but he had soothed her again with words of love, with gentle kisses, asking her to think about him. She had slowly relaxed again, and the pleasure had returned. His hand on her body had not seemed like something to be scared of, rather it soothed her, relaxed her, and she liked the slight roughness of his calluses. Just when she had started smiling into the kiss, his clever fingers had delved under the cotton and found her sensitive point, making her arch and gasp.

When he had slowly lifted her top, her belly had trembled as much from the cold as from nervousness. Again he had understood and reached out to turn off the light, giving her the privacy, or rather the illusion of privacy. He hadn’t been able to see her, but he had touched her in ways that she had never thought anyone ever would. He had kept her drugged with those sinful kisses as he slowly but effectively removed each barrier from between them. Fascinated by his taste, and the texture of his skin against hers, she had dared to let her hands roam on his back, thrilled when he had groaned. For a minute she had even been disappointed that because the lights were turned off, she couldn’t see what she could feel. Her entire body had arched in surprise and pleasure when his mouth had moved down on her body, and she had been helpless to do anything but feel. He gave her no choice, and she wouldn’t have wanted any, her every tremble, her every fear had turned to pliancy under his lips and hands. When he had lowered himself on her fully, the only thought in her mind had been how good and solid his weight felt.

The prick of pain had torn through her pleasure, and her eyes had flown open, but even then she had tried to ride through it, biting her lips to hide it from him. It had been futile, he had known, he had understood. His hands and mouth had soothed her, kissing, caressing, murmuring words she couldn’t hear over the roaring in her ears. Dimly she had realized that he was asking her to relax, and assuring that it would be alright, and that was when she had realized that she had been squirming. Trusting him, focusing on his voice, she had gasped for air and slowly softened beneath him, around him. Her legs had flexed causing an involuntary jerk of his hips, and her own expressions had changed from nervousness to wonder to desire. Her hands had skimmed up his back, her foot up his calf, giving him the assurance that he needed. Time had stopped, surroundings hadn’t mattered, every cell in her body had focused on the man moving over her, around her. She had felt as if she was clinging to the edge of some cliff with only her fingertips, slipping into the unknown inch by inch, no control over her body. She had clutched onto him, for fear of drowning in the flood of sensations, there had been too much happening inside her body all at once. But then, without warning, the molten flood of pleasure had flooded through her, burning her flesh, blurring her mind. She had been completely taken over by the unknown and unexpected, only coming down back to reality after what seemed like gloriously long minutes, to hold on tight to the convulsing man and feeling astounded at the primal beauty of it all.

The second morning had been different from first as Sameer had woken up first and to her immense surprised had prepared coffee for both of them. When he had woken her up with a soft kiss, she had stirred and smiled up at him, only to have her cheeks flush with mortification on realizing her naked state. She had clutched onto the blanket desperately and his eyes had glittered in a way that had made her feel warm. Contrasting the swirling desires in his eyes, he had gently smiled closing his eyes and turned away, and she had scrambled to pull on her clothes not even doubting for a single moment that he would cheat.

Chachaji had come to pick her up after breakfast, and somehow even in her excitement of being able to meet everyone again, she had felt sad of leaving him alone. Stealing a moment alone, he had hugged her tight, kissed her and murmured how much he would miss her. The one day and one night away from him had been a torment. If she had felt sad on the day she had left Agarwal house, now she understood that just within two days she had found home, and it wasn’t the sprawling white mansion but rather her husband’s arms. Just talking on phone with him was not enough. Bereft of his warmth, she had not been able to sleep, her mind recalling the magical sensations they had shared the previous night. Next day when Sameer had come to pick her up, it had taken all of her willpower to not fling herself in his arms.

Two more days at their own home, and then they were on their way to their honeymoon in Darjeeling. Packing had been an exciting task with the jumble of clothes and jackets, bickering over what to take and what not. She had never travelled so far, and it would be her first time in flight. Her belly kept clenching at the thought of flying and also at her daring of sneaking the bold nighties in her bag. A 2.5 hour flight brought them from Ahmedabad to the quaint city of Kolkata, and she looked around with wide eyed wonder at the cycle rickshaws and numerous food stalls. Sameer took her to a 5-star hotel near the airport to freshen up, have dinner, and then they left for the railway station. The overnight journey to New Jalpaiguri passed in blessed sleep, but then again they had a long drive of 3 hours to reach Darjeeling, with a breakfast stop in between where they gorged on piping hot luchi and alu-dum.

The pretty hill station was all about magnificent views of snow-capped Kanchenjunga ranges, sloping tea gardens, landscapes with tall trees, quaint shops bursting with colorful clothes. To Naina’s delight they had spotted the famous toy-train gliding along when they had been driving up in car, and she had enquired, “hum isme kyun nahi aaye?” Sameer had frowned and said, “aanth ghate kaun wapas bethega train me. Thak jayenge dono.” They had spent the remaining time of their first day in exploring the mall road, which despite being a commercial road and the most coveted tourist spot was thankfully not much crowded. The best part which had allured Naina was that there were no vehicles so parents could leave their kids to play, and their walk was often disrupted by a shrieking child or a group of children running across. Each time this would happen, Sameer would tug her close to him as if trying to protect her from the two-feet-tall hooligans. They hadn’t bought anything as it was just their first day, but Sameer did cheer her up with a large bouquet of red and pink roses. She had a fun time sampling thupka andmomos, and the dish of alu-mimi intrigued though Sameer gorged most of it considering it contained potatoes.

Her courage had failed again that night, and she had wondered if she would ever be able to wear those night gowns. She had sighed as she put a normal night suit, and walked out to her waiting husband who was already half-asleep. Climbing in beside him, she had turned off the lights and he had immediately turned to her, opening his arms and she had nestled against him naturally. For a moment she had wondered if he would insist on making love, which had been a regular event except the night she had been back at Chachaji’s home, but he had just held her, whispered a soft kiss on her lips and asked her to rest.

The next day they had had an early morning trip to the observatory hill to watch the sun rise over the high mountain peaks. She had leaned against his warmth, watching the faint pinkish glow spread across the horizon, and then the red rim of sun had risen up from beyond the mountains lending a glittering glow to the snow-capped peaks. They had a quick breakfast in town later and then took the ropeway to a lower station and enjoyed a walk through the tea estates. Taking a taxi back to town, they had and early dinner at a Chinese restaurant, and then returned to their lodge.

And now much after sunset, she stood in their room, staring at the fire and recalling the precious moments since her wedding. After coming back to their room, she had talked to Chacha-Chachi who had enquired about their well-being, and an excited Preeti who wanted to know about Darjeeling. She was yet to change clothes and again as darkness fell outside she wondered what should she wear to bed. A click sounded and Sameer came out from the bathroom dressed in his customary tracks and t-shirt, but this time a towel slung around his shoulders indicating he had taken a shower. With a frown she observed the wet hair, “Sameer, baalo me paani kyun daal shaam ko. Ab sukhne me waqt lagega na, zara bhi akkal nahi hai.”

He grinned at the pyaar wali daant, and she rolled her eyes catching his hand and indicating him to sit on the bed. She took the towel from around his shoulders and proceeded to wipe his hair while he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Burying his face in her stomach, he sniffed, making her breath catch.

“K…kya kar rahe ho?”, she stammered.

He chuckled, “kya Naina… ab tak ghabra rahi ho?” She slapped lightly on his shoulder, and he grinned, “achcha suno… tumhare liye kuch laaya hun.”

Her eyes sparkled, “gift?”

He bit his lower lip, “umm… haan gift bol sakti ho. Ek minute…” He stood up and went to the wardrobe and pulled out a small bag, which he had stuffed out of view, and handed it to her. She took it from him, puzzled at how she had missed this bag while packing their stuff, and what did it contain. Eagerly she pulled it open and froze, the bag contained a pink nightie… or rather she should say “The Pink Nightie“… Oh God, it was the same nightie that she had spotted him buying, or rather playing with in the shop. He had bought it? When? How?

She swallowed, and slowly asked, “yeh… yeh tumne kab kharida?”

He shuffled his foot, “aah… woh… usi din… tumne dekha toh tha.”

“Par tum toh bhaag gaye the wahan se”, she countered.

He nodded and looked away, “haan… par tumhare liye lena tha toh chupke se wapas aa gaya tha andar.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, “usi din?”

“Turant”, he informed and to her astonishment blushed.

She would have smiled at his condition, but suddenly the bottom dropped out of her stomach as she realized how she had teased him about it. God… at that time she hadn’t even known the significance of the nighties that Chachiji had insisted buying. They were just something to wear to bed for her. But now… oh now she realized that these were worn not to conceal but to entice. And… he wanted her to wear it… for him.

Oh. Dear. God.

He watched the varied range of expressions on her face and struggled to decipher what she was thinking, but the last expression was of pure horror, so he immediately pulled the nightie back from her hands, “umm… rehne do Naina… main toh bas aisai…”

She interrupted, puzzled, “Sameer, kya hua? Aise le kyun liya?”

“Kuch nahi”, he shook his head, as if convincing himself, “iski zarurat nahi hai. Tum jao fresh ho jao.”

For a moment she stared at him, and slowly realized that he was again assuring her fears just like he had done since their first night. Be it hugging her and not insisting on making love on the first night, or gentling her fears when they made love the first time, or just letting her rest last night. Even in school and college, all those years, he had been mindful of her limits, and even though he had asked for kiss but had never compelled her to do anything she didn’t want. He had always been so patient and even now he was holding back from his wants just to make her comfortable. Her apprehensions disappeared instantly, so what if he wanted her to wear a nightie, he was her husband, if anyone ever had the right to see her in such clothes it was him. She may feel a little uneasy, but then she had already trusted him with her heart, body and soul so what was this…

Making up her mind, she snatched the nightie back from him, “mere liye kharida tha na… toh mujhe do.”

“Naina tum…”, he stuttered, “me…mera matlab hai… yeh main…”

She smirked, “kya? Mera hi hai na? Ya tum pehnoge?” He stared at her horrified and she laughed, “buddhu… main abhi aati hun.”

Walking over to the bathroom, she closed the door and pulled the satin nightie out of the bag, and took a deep breath, “chal Naina… thodi himmat karle aaj.”

Shedding her clothes she started to pull on the gown, but stopped, her mind flashing back to how wonderful he smelled every night after shower. She had never taken a bath at night, except during summers, but maybe she should… the way he kissed her everywhere… she should wash off the day’s grime and dirt… and apart from that she would also smell nice.

Hanging the nightie on the steel bar, she tied up her hair in a bun, and adjusted the shower to warm before stepping under the spray. She and Preeti had bought some perfumed soap from a shop before when they had gone to some wedding shopping, and luckily she had brought it here. The cover said it was made of cream and rose, well… it did smell like rose. She formed a generous lather, and also washed her face. She dried herself, and then stood before the sink to wear the nightie. The soft satin hugged her curves, and the lacy top seemed to enhance her complexion. There was also a robe, and she pulled it on, tying the string at her waist, and thought it looked modest enough. Pulling her hair free, she quickly combed the long tresses and took another deep breath before stepping out.

Sameer was pacing the length of the room, but stopped and turned immediately on hearing the click of door. Blood rushed through his veins and the breath left his lungs in a shuddering gasp as his eyes raked over her from head to toe. The robe fell till mid-calf, and he could see the bare portion of her legs, her toes curling and uncurling in nervousness. The fabric hugged her like a layer of second skin, and not even the robe could hide her curves from him. She had fisted her hands to her side, and stood stiff as if she didn’t know what to do. The pulse at her throat thrummed so rapidly that he thought he could see it clearly even from this distance. She had been staring at him, but when his eyes met hers she lowered her gaze, a delicate flush tinging her cheeks.

Inadvertently, he started to walk towards her. She trembled a little, but then stood still, and glanced up at him as soon as he reached her. The glitter in his eyes was familiar to her now, but the deep storm that raged behind them was new and it made something clench low in her belly. On their own accord her teeth captured her own lips, the indent fueling the desire running through his veins. She thought he would kiss her, like he always did – cup her face, graze his lips, take her mouth. But a surprised sound escaped from her throat when his hands reached out and pulled open the satin belt at her waist, letting the seams of her robe fall apart. His gaze moved over her exposed flesh like a bold caress, noticing the lace overlapping golden skin, the dip in the center that was not hidden, the sharp outline of her collarbone.

She struggled very hard to not hide herself, to not tie the robe again, and to lessen her agitation she tried to focus on him. Were his shoulders really this broad? And did the veins in his neck always stand out like this? The t-shirt stretched over his chest, and smoothed over a flat abdomen, both of which were hidden from her view. She had seen him in college once without shirt, but at that time she had been so occupied in her own misery that it hadn’t exactly registered in her mind that he was standing there like that. But now, she had touched him so many times, that her fingers remembered every muscle, but still she hadn’t exactly seen him.

Lost in her own thoughts she had missed what he was doing, and was startled when his hands came up to her face, fingers tracing her features as if he was memorizing them. The long clever fingers that had so often pleasured her now drifted down to her throat, and skimmed over her shoulders smoothly sliding the robe off her. The satin swished over her arms, and pooled at her feet, leaving her exposed and vulnerable to his view. Her hands moved on their own volition to cover herself, but before she could his arms slipped around her waist and pulled her up to him in a way that she was standing on tip-toes plastered to him. She saw his head dip, and her eyes fluttered shut just as his lips brushed her forehead, then moved on to her closed eyelids, her nose, her cheeks and then he whispered against her ear, “kabse tumhe aise dekhne ki ichcha thi.”

His voice, guttural with need, washed over her, making her shiver and desire coiled like a live wire low in her belly. She registered his thudding heartbeat against her palm, and then smoothed her hands up his shoulders and around his neck, tilting her head back even further. He answered her silent request, capturing her lips, teasing the seams until she opened to him, and then explored her mouth with deep skilled strokes, the effect of which she could feel in her womb. Sinking her fingers in his hair, she tried to get even closer, wondering at how could he so firm and soft all at once. Fascinated by his taste, she welcomed his invasion with touches of her own, purring in pleasure, and noticing with wonder at how he shuddered at her actions. He kept on kissing her as if he had no other plans, as if there was no hurry, as if he could kiss until time would stop. And she kept acquiescing, accepting and responding, feeling her muscles uncoil one by one until she melted against him.

He lifted her, cradled her, watching the firelight play on satin illuminating shades of gold that didn’t exist but were easily comparable to the sheen of her bare flesh. God, he wanted to see her, he thought as he laid her back on the sheets. He stretched beside her, and dipped his lips to hers once more, nipping at the corners of her mouth. As his hand moved to the flimsy lacy strap at her shoulder, lowering it gently, he felt her tremble beneath him. Her uneasiness unsettled him, and he gave in to her once again, reaching out to turn off the lights. But he froze, when her hand caught his, and he stared down at her in surprise. She gulped once, as if gathering courage, and then slowly whispered, “lights rehne do aaj.”

His eyes widened slightly, and the next moment he gasped in surprise because she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Her flavor seeped into him, and joy mixed with a shot of desire flooded through his veins, and everything went gold behind his closed eyelids. “Sameer”, she moaned so softly, that he doubted he heard it, only felt the vibration at her throat where his lips now moved. His hands roamed over her, fabric and flesh arousing yet gratifying, until it was too much for him and with a few deft movements the pink satin nightie drifted to the floor beside the bed. He groaned when her hands moved to his t-shirt, and his brain buzzed with urgent need as the pliancy of his wife turned to demands.

Her eyes feasted on him, while his were steady with concentration, focused and feral. The first look at her creamy smooth skin undid him and he lowered his head to taste. She moaned, long, deep and throaty. He felt the frigid mountain air mixed with the warmth of fire, when suddenly her lips and hands moved over him, enticing groans deep from his chest. Carefully he removed the remaining obstruction; new flesh was bared and explored gently. Their pleasure grew from pleasuring each other. There was an answering flutter in her belly with each tug and pull of his mouth. And his skin heated, muscles jerking and quivering under her exploring mouth.

When he stripped, inexorably her gaze was drawn down, and the trembles returned. He came back to her, his touch soothing her, his lips moving over her murmuring words that didn’t make any sense to either of them. She wanted to tell him that he need not speak, that it didn’t matter to her as long as he didn’t stop touching her. He understood that the trembles were of suppressed need and not of fear, when she wound her legs around him, urging him on. His hand stroked down her hip as he eased gently into her, and his mouth captured her shaky sigh. She yielded beneath him, her hips lifting in agreement to his strokes. Her nails dug on his back, eliciting a groan of dark delight. With his face buried against the sensitive skin at her throat, he set the pace and took her soaring over the snow-capped peaks that had so mesmerized her.

Heat blazed through her, tossing her on the shore of a sensation so sharp that it blurred the lines between pain and pleasure. There was the crackling of fire, the smell of burnt wood, the flavor of his woman in his mouth, and the quivering ecstasy as she came apart under him. And then he was blind and deaf to all but her. His hands streaked over her, possessive and hot, and his pants turned to tantalizing groans. There was an ache, deep and glorious, and the woman beneath him drew him in, and he was helpless to do anything but drown.

The flight to ecstasy turned to a lazy bliss, as she languidly drifted back like a weightless feather. Content with the weight pinning her to bed, she smiled and caressed the arms that were strong enough to lift her and gentle enough to hold her. A glorious sigh shuddered from his depths at her whispering touches and curious exploration. He lifted his head, and looked down at her, feeling a surge of male pride on seeing her blissful sated smile. Rolling off her, he took her in his arms, and drew the blanket over him.

Just as he thought she was drifting off, he heard her chirpy voice, “Sameer… hum market se jo titaura laaye the woh kahan hai?”

He opened one eye, feeling extremely lazy, “hoga yahin kahin. Abhi kyun puch rahi ho?”

“Mujhe khana hai… abhi”, she demanded excitedly, sitting up, clutching the blanket under her arms.

He frowned, but when she pouted, he sighed and got up. Luckily he didn’t even have to step down from the bed; the small bag was right on the bedside table. He grabbed it and gave it to her, watching as she excitedly tore open the transparent polythene, and delved into the contents. On hearing her deep moan of pleasure, he narrowed his eyes and asked, “isme hai kya exactly? Aur yeh titaura hota kya hai?”

She gave him a look that she had practiced all these years, whenever he asked a stupid question, and answered, “titaura yahan ki khaas dish hai… isme imli, mirchi aur chini hota hai.”

He registered the information as she moaned again, and then his eyes widened in horrified realization. Oh God… here he was thinking that maybe he would be blessed with a repeat tonight, and she was sitting in-front of him chowing down on tamarinds as if she was starved from ages. Swallowing the lump in his throat he dared to ask, “Naina… abhi se?”

Her lips curved in a puzzled frown, “matlab?”

His eyes had a wild frightened look, and he stuttered, “matlab… umm… imli… tum imli kha rahi ho.”

Her eyebrows arched, “toh?”‘

“toh…”, he whispered and gestured towards her stomach.

She looked down perplexed, and started to ask, “Sameer, tum kya…”, but stopped midway as understanding dawned. She gasped and hit his arm making him rub the spot, “kuch bhi bolte ho. Imli khane ka matlab yeh thodi na hua ke main…” Spots of color adorned her cheeks as she trailed off, and then softly murmured, “imli toh Mt. Abu me bhi khaya tha. Bhul gaye? Tumne hi toh kharidke diya tha.”

He smiled now, relaxed again, “kuch nahi bhula. Bas uss time socha nahi tha ke yeh imli hamesha mujhe hi kharidke deni padegi, ya tumhare iss shauk ka itna khauf hoga mujhe.”

She hit him again, and he chuckled, his eyes darkening as the blanket slipped from under one of her arm and the view of her bare flesh awakened desire again. Oblivious to his thoughts, she smacked her lips at the tangy spicy taste, and then offered the pack to him, “tum bhi lo na. Bahot tasty hai.” But then she remembered his expressions from Mt. Abu and pulled back, “oh… par tumhe toh imli pasand hi nahi.”

He tilted his head and murmured, “haan… par soch raha hun aaj chakh lu firse.”

“Toh lo”, she smiled wide and offered.

The crooked smirk puzzled her, and before she could grasp on to his intentions, he lunged at her trapping her to the bed again and took her mouth in a deep hard kiss that made her arch and moan. The pack of dreaded tamarinds lay forgotten, and the fire crackled through the night, the moon shone bright but the man and woman on the large bed, were lost in the moments of their own creation, overwhelming and precious, each of them feeling anew the long, slow ripples of delight.