Page 127 of Rudra Nandani: The Saga of Control And Seduction

Her calling him Jawai sa sent a fresh wave through me. His dangerously commanding image flashed in my mind. And I swallowed hard, the wetness between my thighs made me shift slightly.

I looked at her,“He will…” before I could stop myself, the words slipped out, and I regretted it instantly.

“When?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. I blinked, my mind scrambling.

“Actually, we’re having guests… He’s attending to them. He said… he’ll come after bidding them goodbye.” My halting words and awkward pauses made her expression tighten with concern.

“Come with me to my chamber,” my heart dropped in my stomach as she said quietly.

I was desperate for privacy, so her words sent a shiver down my spine.

Just then, my grandmother stepped in, placing her hand on my shoulder and nudging me softly.“Chalo Nandani, tumhe ek baar Vaid Ji ko dikhate hai... Kya pata koi sukhad samaachaar ho,”(Come, Nandani. Let’s have the physician take a look. Maybe there’s good news,) she said with a smile.

I felt even more embarrassed, and heat rose up my neck.

“No, Daadisa, it’s nothing like that,” I replied, laughing nervously. She lightly tapped my head.

“Why are you laughing? I’m telling you, come. Right, Abhi?” And my smile faltered. I knew I’d brought this on myself.

I was aroused when he was inserting it inside me, but not for once did I think of its consequences. Why didn’t I say no to him? Why did I let him put that in me?

“Come,” my mother repeated insistently.

“Ji…” I muttered, following her with hesitant steps into her chamber.

“Sit here,” she said. I lowered myself onto the couch, doing my best to hide the rush of sensation that came with it. She clapped her hands, calling an attendant.

“Go, bring the head physician.” My body tensed, and I quickly stood.

“Ahh,” A low moan slipped out of my mouth, and I immediately tried to cover it.“Umm, Maasa, I’m okay, truly. Just tired from the journey… and a bit hungry,”

She eyed me, her brows still drawn in concern.“It’s alright, Nandani. Let her check you once,”

I shook my head with an urge.“Nooo... I mean... Why disturb her? I’m really alright. Just food... It's enough... I'm sure,”

After a long pause, she finally nodded.“Alright. Bring her something to eat,” she told the attendant, then came to sit beside me.

I was really nervous, and my heart was racing. All I wanted was to meet him as soon as possible.

I was feeling everything at once—arousal, nervousness, desperation to be alone with him again.

She began speaking gently, asking about the wedding, about him, about how we’d been…

I tried to answer everything calmly, though inside, I was barely holding it together. After a while, some attendants returned with food, and my father joined us, settling on the opposite couch.

“Bhojan kar lo, Nandani,” (Have dinner, Nandani.) he said gently.

My problems kept increasing.

When I looked at the food, I realised I didn’t want any. My hunger, thirst, and every sense were hooked on only one thing: him. I was starving, but not for food.

It had been long, but the feeling of being so was now killing me. I was insanely turned on and needy.

“Nandani,” my mother called, and I looked at her. She held out a bite of food. I didn’t have a choice, so like a good daughter, I leaned forward, took it, chewed, and forced it down.

Each bite was a struggle. She fed me four more before I whispered,“Uhm... I’m full.”

My grandmother narrowed her eyes.“What? You said you were hungry, but now you're full after four bites? Stop acting like a child and eat,” she said authoritatively.

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