《Arranged Marriage to Kill Him》Chapter 8 : Dirty, Little Moments
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Huffing, Naina trudged towards the beach with the sand slipping between her toes, teasing her. She didn't know what irritated her, the fact that she wasn't in the Maldives or the hot sun above or how breathtakingly beautiful this place was. The last part irritated her more for she wanted to hate this place. Badly. Yet how could she? The waters glittered like pearls under the sun and washed over the pristine sand. The white seagulls flew in the cloudless sky that was so blue, it melted in the sea like ice candy. The horizon was barely discernible, just like Naina's irritation.
"Not bad huh," she heard Ahanay's mocking remark and she brought the frown back on her face, deepening the lines to not let him see her awe.
"It sucks," she lied, feeling her tongue burn more than her back that was getting whipped by the sun's rays.
He didn't respond, holding their bags tightly and striding towards the shack. That was when she noticed it, the oceanic veins of his strong arms. She could just cut them while he was sleeping, although there was no reason to kill him now since he was poor, but he could be her lab rat. The first husband to be killed before she could get herself a second, rich husband. After all, he lied to her about the Maldives!
"Where's room service?" she shouted after him as she walked closer to the shack. "Where's our hotel?" He stopped, dropping the bags outside the shack and turning around. There was a pause longer than either of them intended, but it was enough time for her to realise. Like the bags, she too dropped on the sand.
* * *
Naina moaned in the heat with her skirt bunched around her thighs, spreading out her legs and throwing her head back.
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"Can you erm---" Ahanay cleared his throat, his voice strangled. "Stop."
"What?" Naina asked, only to be met with silence. Shrugging, she said, "It's because of you we are in this situation. Don't tell me what to do or not to do."
"I'm your husband."
"And I'm your wife who was supposed to be treated like a queen in an AC room in Maldives," she fired back without taking another breath, sitting cross-legged and bunching her skirt further up. "Here I'm at Goa---"
"Not Goa---"
"Fuck you!" She cried out, throwing a pillow across the room. The pillow hit him lightly on the arm, before falling to the floor. To her surprise, he broke out laughing, his shoulders shaking and his eyes crinkling in boyish mirth. "What the hell?" She ran to him, climbing on his bed and grabbing the pillow. "It's because of---" smack "you---" smack "that---" smack, smack "it's so hot---" smack smack smack double smack "we have only table fans!"
With every smack, Ahanay only laughed harder as if the smacks were tickles.
This irked Naina who still didn't find any humour in their pathetic condition. Ditching the pillow altogether and with all her strength, she pushed him by his shoulders against the wall. That was when his laughter ceased.
Naina hadn't realized she was sitting on his lap with her arms caging him.
"Don't you dare---"
"Are you threatening me?" He raised his eyebrows and folded his arms, unfazed by her craziness.
"You---" she poked her finger against his chest, feeling his heart racing. So he wasn't as unfazed as he appeared. Naina smirked. "Your faint, little heart feels threatened."
Immediately, two strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her so close to him that her soft breasts pressed against his hard chest. Two hearts throbbed in erratic rhythm, unlike their breathing that stilled. It was as if they were both beaten dead and came alive in each other's closeness. That intoxicated feeling of being neither alive nor dead. Just madly and wildly high with goosebumps prickling the skin and dizziness blurring the vision.
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"What-What are you doing?" Naina broke the silence, shifting a little that her hardened nipples brushed against him.
Taking in a sharp breath, he bellowed, "What are you doing?"
"What do you mean---" she paused in her anger, looking elsewhere. "You know what. Forget it. It's too hot. Let me go." Wriggling in her arms, she slapped his chest. "It's so hot. Leave me!"
"You're free to go," he said, raising his hands up that had unwrapped around her a good minute ago. Somehow, with the heat fogging her brain like the hills in Mahableshwar, she hadn't realized that. She tried getting up. Tried. Because the moment she got up, she fell back on his lap, burying her head in his chest in deep shame.
"What happened?" Ahanay's voice was thick and curious.
"Something got stuck," her voice was barely a croak, so unlike herself.
"Something?"
"A-thread-from-my-underwear-on-your-pant-button!" she suddenly blurted out in one breath, further burying her face in his chest. Having no regard for his crazy heart. For what seemed like an eternity, neither of them knew what to say.
"Should I---"
"No," she quickly said, closing his eyes with her hands. "I'll do it, just don't look!"
With one hand over his eyes and another disappearing under her skirt, she clumsily started fiddling with whatever she could grab. But her hands sweating in nervousness slipped as if she was trying to catch a slimy fish. Suddenly, a hand grabbed her wrist tightly and when she looked up, his dark eyes stared at her through the slits of her fingers.
"Let me," he said in a strong, commanding voice.
She mutely removed her hand, giving in.
It was only a second. A second of his finger slipping in her skirt. A second of his finger swiftly cutting the thread. A second of his finger accidentally brushing against the hot folds of her skin hidden behind her underwear. Just the most painful, torturous second that made them both shiver in dangerous excitement.
A second throbbing like a wild heart that unravelled a million thoughts racing in each other's mind, a ripple of tingling sensations breaking on their skin and a pool of desire gathering in the core of their beings.
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