He caught her behind the door, bangles clinking, saree swirling, droplets of water from her fresh bathed hair wetting his hands and the wall beyond. The tip of his nose touches her cheek, shivers run down her back as does the tickling drops of water. Firming his hold the strong muscles of his arms tightens his embrace digging deep at her waist. The warms of his heavy breath flows down her front, closing whatever distance was left between them, their eyes meet. For a brief moment she's lost in the depths of the dark black eyes. His lips twitch into a smile at her confused look, which suddenly is shut behind a curtain of perfect lashes. Can she hold it all in for long? The surprise, the pleasure, the need and burnt of desire?
They are now leaned against a wall. He picks up a lock of dripping hair from her face and tucks it behind her earlobe. He then picks up another and yet another till her face is clear and flushed. Following one droplet down her neck and shoulders his fingers reach the edge of her blouse. The grip on her waist eases also tracing cold wet lines with each of his swift fingers across, over the belly button, exposing more skin with every inch of movement. Pink, painted nails clutch at his waist, tighter.
Slowly her palla is the first to go, with a swish of silken fabric it slips away baring a whiteness of bare shoulders and bosom. Easing a little away, bringing the gorgeous head lower his lips caress the edges of the tight hugging blouse. The slight stubble pinkens her skin, stopping a brief bite over the tiny mole on the heaving bosom; it causes a sharp intake of breath.
