Page 34 of Mrs. Pandey
I laughed out loud, trying to hide the closing up of my throat. "Yes. I just forgot."
She nodded. "I had no intention of hurting you."
"You did," I said softly.
"Prashant..." Ira whispered.
The world shrank as I drew closer to Ira, so close that I could smell the faint scent of her warm and fruity perfume. The tent was dark, only the faint light of the moon coming in through a small hole. For a moment, neither of us said anything. My gazefell on her lips, and then her eyes flickered to mine, and that was all the permission I needed.
I leaned in slowly, deliberately, watching for any sign of hesitation. There was none. Ira's breath hitched, her chest heaved gently as she tilted her head slightly.
Our lips met in a soft, hesitant pressure as there was no hunger, just warmth. I closed my eyes, as if a dimmer switch had been pulled, amplifying every sensation. Her lips were warm and impossibly soft beneath mine. I let the moment drag on, riding it out with maddening patience, then drew back to just a breath away.
The space between us was throbbing.
Ira let out a soft sigh, her lips parting in quiet invitation. I moved again, this time deeper, with more intention. Our mouths opened slightly, mimicking each other. My tongue flicked softly along the curve of her lower lip, probing. She responded in kind, her own tongue brushing against mine with a feather-light touch. A gasp came out of her throat, and I felt it more than heard it, like a spark ignited in my chest.
Our rhythm found itself unhurried, and deliciously slow.
One of my hands moved up to caress the back of her neck, my fingers curling into the silky strands of her hair. The other rested on her waist, linking her to me. Ira's hands, shaking but sure, wrapped around my shirt, pulling me closer until our bodies were pressed against each other. She tilted her head further, deepening the kiss, tasting me fully.
She moaned softly against my mouth when my fingers moved up to hold her face, my thumbs rubbing over her jaw.
I placed my lips at the corner of her mouth, tracing a hot path along her cheek, up to the soft curve of her jaw. Then down. Her pulse began to flutter under my mouth when I kissed the spot just below her ear, then the sensitive line of her neck. She tilted her head back with a soft sigh, and my teeth grazed her skin with a playful bite.
"You're so beautiful, Ira," I murmured against her throat.
"I know," she replied breathlessly.
I paused at her breasts, looking at her for permission but she grabbed the back of my head and thrust them into my face, breath ragged with need.
"Wow," I murmured with a grin, yanking off her T-shirt and revealing the black, lacy bra she wore underneath. Her nipples were tight, already aching for my mouth. I cupped one of her breasts, pulled it free, and took it into my mouth. I kissed, sucked, and worshipped them like they were something holy. My jeans grew impossibly tighter as the heat between us deepened.
"God, Prashant... please," Ira moaned, her voice cracking with desperation. "Don't torture me."
She yanked me up for another kiss, urgent and needy. My hand slipped inside her denim, and I groaned into her mouth as I felt her warm, wet, and throbbing against my palm.
Without breaking the kiss, we stumbled toward the mattress, limbs tangled. Ira kicked off her jeans, and I fumbled out of myclothes, heart pounding, skin burning. I kissed her breasts again, then trailed down to her stomach, her thighs, and even her toes worshipping every inch of her like she was mine to memorize. She moaned, her fingers tightening in my hair when my mouth drove her to the edge.
"I'm entering you," I whispered, hovering above her, breathless. She dug her nails into my shoulders and bit down on her lower lip, nodding.
I could feel her slick folds against my hardness, and when I finally pushed into her, slow, deep, my breath caught. She gasped sharply, her body jerking beneath me, then melting around me as I filled her completely.
"Oh God!" she breathed, her eyes locking onto mine. "I like it."
I captured her mouth again, thrusting into her slowly. Her hips lifted to meet me, her body clinging to mine with every movement. Ira scratched down my back with her nails when the pleasure became too much, and her moans grew louder with every stroke.
We made love that night like the world didn't exist beyond that tent. It wasn't just about our bodies, it felt like our souls collided. She was the only woman I'd ever been with, and even if I lived a hundred lifetimes, she would always be the one. The one I didn't just touch I felt. It was deep, raw, and real.
She passed out in my arms after hours of lovemaking. Her bare body curled against mine, soft and warm. It was our last night of the trip, and we'd be leaving in the morning. I watched her as she slept peacefully beside me.
Quietly, I reached for her clothes and helped dress her, then pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.
And for the rest of the night, I just stared at her, committing every curve, every breath, every part of her to my memory.
That trip to Dehradun was the best and worst time of my life. I returned with a smile on my face and a hole in my chest. Everyone said I looked sallow and restless. They didn't know that I had left pieces of myself somewhere among the trees of Mussoorie and the silence of that monastery.
And I still couldn't stop loving her. I didn't tell her how much I love her.
