Dear Readers,
Originally, I naively posted this story in Loving Wives (those of you who are familiar with the category will understand what I mean). I've asked to have it moved here, because while it isn't a typical romance, it is still a love story. I hope you will enjoy it.
You will find a list of the Hindi words used in the story along with their meanings at the end.
Subdued_Passion
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DEVI
She sat in the darkness, eyes unfocussed and blank staring at nothing. She sat in the darkness not because it soothed her with its quiet. No. She sat engulfed in darkness because she hadn't even noticed that the day had changed to night.
It had been hours since the men had returned from 'the place'. She couldn't bring herself to call it what it was because she couldn't yet accept any of it as being real. She couldn't, wouldn't focus on anything that was happening because it wasn't real, not to her, not yet.
She wasn't ready, but the chanting of the priests was a reminder that was hard to ignore. They were praying for a soul that had already escaped this world while hers lay trapped, fluttering around like a caged bird desperate for release. She wished she could just pay them and send them off. But, this was ritual and it had to be done every day for the next twelve days or the gods would not be pleased.
But, how could the gods be pleased to make her suffer like this. No, she wasn't ready and it felt like the darkness was swallowing her. She felt cold, except in her mind, where it was bright and where she could still bask in the warmth of his smile.
Him!
The thought pierced through the heart as much as any earthly dagger could. She had nowhere else to go but further inside, within herself, the only place HE could be found anymore.
-----
The marriage feast was a grand display. Munishiji's only son was getting married and no expense was spared. The maharaj ran the rasoi no different than any great wartime general. The guests barely sampled one delicacy when the servers arrived with even more tempting treats. Joy seemed to overflow throughout the household much like the bellies of the guests. But somewhere in the midst of all this gaiety a solitary spirit felt like it was experiencing a slow death even while the body that housed it forced its lips into a smile.
This is it. The day has come. It has happened.
So, why can you just not accept it?
You knew this day would come. You've been prepared all your life for this. You knew what your future held, so why can't you just accept it?
Because I'd rather die.
The realisation startled Devi enough to jerk her head up a bit which in turn was enough to cause her ghunghat to slip off her head by an inch. Only an inch, but it was enough to afford her a glimpse of the sleeve of his sherwani. She noticed the zardozi embroidery on the cuff- it looked nice. It wasn't garish like she had come to expect most wedding suits to be. She looked at the hand that emerged partially from the sleeve. It looked like, well... a hand. There wasn't anything significant or noteworthy. It wasn't more hairy or sunburnt than any other man. It didn't have scars or any other identifying marks on it. There was absolutely nothing special about this hand, except, well... except that this was her husband's hand.
Husband.
The word seemed to almost detonate inside her head. Her shoulders felt with the impact. And then, almost as if the hand had a mind of its own, it approached her.
Had it seen her watching it?
That's silly. It's just a hand.
And then, a slight squeeze.
The hand had taken a hold of her own and given it a light squeeze. It was such a little gesture but it comforted her. She couldn't understand why, but suddenly it felt like things were not as desperate as she imagined them to be. Encouraged by the speck of hope, she tilted her head slightly and looked up. He must've been watching her the entire time and waiting for her to look up. Or maybe she was moving in slow motion. Because, no sooner did she lift up her gaze that she was met with a smile. And there it was, bright and warm and welcoming. He looked... happy.
Genuinely happy.
She couldn't understand how they could feel so differently about the same situation but looking at the way he was looking at her, she couldn't help but smile back; not the kind of smile she had flashed at every enthusiastic guest that had shaken her hand in congratulations that day. No. This smile was different because now she had hope.
-----
"Devi?"
"Devi beta..."
"Don't," she interrupted her mother before she could complete whatever commands she had come to issue this time.
"Just don't call me that."
She felt powerless over her own life. A goddess should have more control over her own destiny, she thought to herself. Why my parents would name me goddess if they never planned to allow me to manage the reins of my own life, was a question she often asked herself.
Devi's mother didn't ask what she meant. She didn't need to. This wasn't the first she'd seen Devi act out in this manner. She knew her daughter harboured some kind of silly hope that she would always be with her parents and Devi's father would have likely allowed it too if not for their recent misfortunes. Devi's parents hadn't let on how much of a financial setback they had really suffered. Munishiji proposal to have his son marry Devi had come at an opportune moment as a connection with his family would help Devi's father establish a credit line within the business community which in turn would help them get back on their feet again. An even greater boon was that the would-be-groom was already well known within their circles as a respectable man.
Her mother knew that she had dreams that were different from the other girls in her community but she also knew that as stubborn as her daughter could be she was also a string woman who could adapt to any challenging situation. And marriage was no challenge. Millions of people have done it before us, she told herself. Devi will find happiness, eventually, as it has been arranged.
-----
The sunlight crept in through the partially closed curtains. Shadows flung to the corners of the room as the sunbeams bathed her bared legs. She felt their warmth on her legs but that was not why she was awake. She had taken to sleeping without her clothes. It was just more... convenient that way. She knew it was naughty and it would be considered scandalous if it was ever found out. So she made sure that she was dressed before any of the maids entered the room in the morning with her cup of chai. Fortunately she still had time, which was good because she could feel a warm tingle beginning to rise from her womanly core.
He was there beside her.
Asleep.
His breathing sounded even and rhythmic, listening to it could be very calming. But, not right now. Not when what she wanted, was to be thoroughly roused.
She turned from her side of the bed, the right side- he let her choose her side of the bed, just like so many other things that he let her choose for herself- to face him.
He lay on his back. She watched his chest rise and fall with the rhythm of his breathing. He wasn't the image of masculinity young women fantasized about when they think of their future husbands. He wasn't muscular and swarthy with a thick coat of hair on his chest. He wasn't any of those things but, he was hers. And with him, she could be herself. She felt herself grow moist at the thought.
Enough dawdling. It's time to play.
She lowered the sheet to expose his manhood. She looked at it possessively. This is the organ that would facilitate their union, how they would be joined and achieve mutual bliss. This was her lingam to worship as she pleased. But first she needed to gain its attention.
She gave the sheet a hard yank and tossed it off the bed. He stirred a little probably missing the warmth.
No problem, I'll have you warm soon enough.
She climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, yet making sure that she didn't lower herself on to him. His hips were so much narrower than his chest that from this angle he did look rather broad of chest and well built. She sighed longingly.
Time to wake up husband.
Devi planted her palms on the bed on either side of him and lowered her mouth to his left nipple, which she gave a generous lick.
He didn't move but she felt his cock twitch and almost make contact with her nether lips.
