She shook her head, “Not really.”
He turned her to him, kissing her on her forehead. His lips lazily traced her features, moving on to her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks and then her chin.
Frustrated, Dia protested, holding his head in her hands and taking a bite of his lower lip, making him laugh softly. “Kiss me,” she ordered, keen to feel his mouth on hers.
Bharat obliged her, taking a taste of her lips. The kiss grew deeper as their limbs tangled, his shaft growing thicker and harder against her stomach.
Dia moved a hand down his waist to reach out to his manhood, caressing him lightly, making him growl deeply in his throat.
He, in turn, trailed his lips down her body, his tongue playing havoc with her nerves as he slowly reached the core of her femininity.
Dia moaned, her hands holding on to his head tightly as he pleasured her vagina with his tongue. His hands held her thighs down as she thrashed her legs restlessly, a roaring filling her ears even as a climax built within her womb. “Bharat…” she groaned, reaching out for she knew not what as she felt the surge of an orgasm splitting her in two. She fell back on the bed, his head between her thighs, her breath coming in gasps. That had been explosive!
It took her more than a couple of minutes to feel the blood flow back into her veins. Her breathing got back to normal and she found the strength to lift her hands to caress the silky soft curls on her lover’s head. She hugged him close, whispering in his ear, “That was simply awesome. Show me how to love you, please. I don’t know.”
Bharat smiled adoringly at the woman in his arms. What an innocent! He took her hand and placed it against his erection. “You’re a natural,” he complimented her, kissing her deeply.
THE CASANOVA’S WIFE
(Marriages Made in India: Book #4)
A romance novella by
Sundari Venkatraman
1
Bharat’s breath came out in gasps as he made love to her; his jaw clenched as he held back his climax, waiting for Dia to hit the high spot. His locked his lips with hers, gently sucking on her tongue while his hands caressed the soft mounds of her breasts, his thumbs stroking the hard nipples.
Dia moaned as the orgasm hit her in waves, stars exploding behind her closed eyelids. She hadn’t ever imagined that making love would be like this, so explosive, so mind-blowing. She trembled in the aftermath of passion, her hands caressing the muscular shoulders of the man she had met barely a couple of hours ago for the first time.
Bharat groaned as he followed her closely. That was the best sex he’d had, ever. The woman was damn responsive. And she had been a virgin at that. A deep sigh wrenched through him. That had been a bolt out of the blue. The women he hung out with knew the score. But it had been too late by the time he knew it was the first time for Dia.
He pulled out of her and lay down at her side, holding her gently. Dia! What a beautiful name. It sat so well on her, her face softly lit like the lamp that her name suggested. The moment he looked into those silver eyes, he’d decided he’d make her his. Bharat didn’t believe in love. But yes, he wanted her for his partner.
“Did I hurt you badly?” he asked against her ear, his voice gravelly.
“A bit,” she replied in a whisper, shivering as his hot breath blew into her ear. She cuddled closer, revelling in his touch.
He kissed the pulse beating hard at her throat, stroking it with a velvet tongue. “I’m sorry I didn’t find out if you were a virgin before bedding you.”
She turned to look at him, drowning in the velvety brown of his gaze, her own silver eyes half-closed. She traced a hand over his chiselled cheek, the five-o-clock shadow feeling rough against her smooth palm. “Does it matter?” she asked softly.
“I don’t do virgins,” he said, continuing to nibble the corner of her lips.
She got up with a jerk, pulling a sheet around her, her silver eyes spitting temper. “What the hell do you mean by that? Do you “do” experienced women every day?” She raised her hands to draw quotation marks in the air, forgetting to hold the sheet that slipped down to her waist, leaving her breasts bare.
He ran his gaze lazily over her breasts, bringing colour rushing up her body, the tips turning into tight rose buds, inviting his touch. He bent down to place his mouth on her left breast, stroking the tip with his tongue, making her gasp. His left hand caressed the twin as he gently suckled her.
Her hands went to his head, planning to tug him away from her. But weakness assailed her limbs as she pulled him closer to her body without meaning to. The anger turned to passion as he turned to pay the same amount of attention to her other breast. Looking down at his dark head against her pale skin as he made love to her, a deep sigh came from the depth of her being even as she rubbed her slim legs against his muscular ones.
Bharat lifted his head to look at her flushed face, and found her eyes closed tightly. Sitting up against the headboard of the bed, he pulled her into his arms and held her loosely. “There’s no need to be angry, Dia. I enjoy sex and women throw themselves at me. And I’m not complaining.” He grinned when she raised her head from his shoulder to look at him. “And I practise safe sex.”
“I didn’t throw myself at you,” she glared, miffed.
His grin turned wider, as he shook his head. “You didn’t.”
“Then…”
“Didn’t you like the experience?” He studied her features avidly, enjoying her temper. Her face glowed incandescently, as she gave him a disgusted look from her silver eyes.
“I did,” she admitted, looking down at his naked chest, her thick, long eyelashes hiding the expression in her eyes, even as her face turned red. And that was the truth. Though it was her first time and she didn’t have any other to compare it with, she had so relished his lovemaking. And he’d been thorough. She vaguely recalled reading somewhere that not many women actually experienced an orgasm.
“So why are you angry?” He pulled her closer, his hand running through the long, straight and silky hair in a caress. He nuzzled the crook of her shoulder, breathing in her scent deeply. She smelled awesome, all woman, with a hint of fresh roses.
“I don’t know,” She admitted, being her honest self. She turned her face to give him better access as he nibbled along her jaw, working towards her lips.
“This night with you is truly the best experience of my life,” he said softly.
Her eyes went wide as she stared at him. Was he being serious? Or did he say that to every woman he had sex with? She pouted at him. “And so says the Casanova.”
Bharat looked at her lovely face in fascination, even as he gave her a small nod. “Guilty as charged,” he agreed, kissing Dia gently, his tongue tracing the shape of her lips, before wandering into her mouth and mating with hers.
She moaned, throwing her arms around his neck, clinging to him. It seemed that she didn’t really care if he was a womaniser. She wanted his hands all over her.
His hands moved down her back to caress her curvaceous bottom. “Hmm…you taste amazing. But I think we should stop.”
“Why? I don’t want to.”
“I don’t either,” he grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he pressed his forehead to hers. “But I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have.”
A Casanova with principles it seemed.
2
Dia rested her head on Bharat’s shoulder and closed her eyes. She would never have believed it if someone had suggested to her that morning that she’d be so comfortable in a stranger’s arms. She closed her eyes, breathing slowly and deeply, willing for sleep to claim her.
But her mind insisted on wandering back to the evening.
Dia and her best friend Avantika had gone to the party held at the suburban five-star after the week-long fashion show had concluded. Avantika, who was a dancer, had performed on three days during the event and hence had the coveted invite for two. She had insisted on taking Dia along. Working as a management trainee for a private company, Dia rarely
got to go to stylish parties. She had tagged along at her friend’s insistence, hoping to have a good time. What she hadn’t expected was to meet a hunk, who had turned her head from the moment she set her eyes on him. She was unaware that Bharat Maheshwari had been trailing the modelling circuit since two years and was a famous ramp model.
“Hi, I’m Bharat. Care to dance with me?” he asked in his gravelly voice that she found absolutely sexy.
Leaving her glass of champagne on the tray carried by a passing waiter, Dia placed her hand in his, her gaze mesmerised by his melting chocolate eyes. “I’m Dia.”
He nodded, running his eyes from the top of her sleek head to the tips of her painted toes. Her oval face was perfectly made up, her eyes framed by long, curling lashes. Her thick, straight hair, like a dark brown curtain with gold highlights, shimmered all the way down to her waist. She had a sharp, tip-tilted nose, her silky cheeks ending in a determined chin. Her cupid bow lips, coated in a deep shade of red, called out to him invitingly. She wore a short black sheath that hugged her slim, but curvaceous figure, stopping many inches short of her knees. Her only ornaments were silver hoop earrings that dangled down to her shoulders and a slim silver watch on the left wrist. Bharat thought that he’d love to have her for dessert, as he gazed into her silver gaze.
She returned the compliment in full, checking out the silky dark curls that tumbled down to his shoulders, carelessly brushed back from his broad forehead. He’d obviously removed the make-up that he’d worn during the show. He had thick, dark eyebrows, eyes the colour of coffee framed by short, curling lashes, slashing cheekbones and a sharp chin. He had an aquiline nose above well-shaped lips, the upper one thin while the lower was broad and sensual. His wide, muscular shoulders were tucked into a white shirt that was open at his throat, teamed with a casual jacket of dark grey. He must definitely be a few inches above six feet, she concluded, as she leisurely checked out his long, muscular legs that were encased in a pair of branded jeans.
They swung to the music, looking deeply into each other’s eyes, switching off from the rest of the crowd. After a few dances, Bharat excused himself. “I need to talk to the press,” he grimaced. “Promise me you won’t disappear.”
She smiled. “I won’t.” She took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter before going in search of her friend.
“Dia,” said Avantika. “What’s come over you? Do you know who you were dancing with?” Her voice was teasing as she knew very well that Dia wasn’t one to read fashion magazines.
“Yeah, his name’s Bharat,” said Dia, sipping on her drink, a smile on her face. “Doesn’t he look gorgeous?”
Avantika laughed. “Of course he does. Bharat Maheshwari is a super model. Are you even aware that you are the envy of every single woman here?”
“What?” Dia looked genuinely puzzled. “Is he that big? He seemed so nice and friendly. But…okay, maybe. He’s hot.” Colour ran up her cheeks before draining away abruptly, leaving her pale. “Oh my God! Do you think I should stay away? I don’t much understand the world of fashion. Maybe I should…”
“Whoa! Chill. You like him. And he obviously likes you too. Why don’t you see where it takes you? I don’t think he’ll expect you to be an expert on the fashion world,” said Avantika cheekily, smiling at her friend. Twenty-two-year-old Dia had never shown interest in a man before now. It was high time!
Dia gave her best friend a hesitant smile. “I suppose. I really like him.”
“So there. And I’m sure he’ll come looking for you soon.”
Bharat walked towards the women even as Avantika uttered the words. “Hey, sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, sliding his arm around Dia’s waist. “I hope you don’t mind if I take your friend away for a while,” he said to Avantika with a charming smile.
“Not at all,” said Avantika, giving Dia a small wink on the aside.
He swept her off her feet that evening, giving her his undivided attention. Dia didn’t know what hit her as the handsome Bharat charmed her with his conversational skills. Added to his sexy looks, she was floored. She was especially awed after getting to know who he was. They chatted a lot during dinner before Bharat told her softly, “I want to make love to you.”
Giving him a startled glance, Dia thought on her feet. They didn’t run in the same circles. They might never meet again. She didn’t want to miss the chance of a lifetime. Yeah, she had fallen for him hook, line and sinker. She nodded, looking deeply into his hot brown eyes. “So do I.”
3
It was late in the morning when Bharat woke up. Without opening his eyes, he turned around to pull Dia into his arms, his hands encountering an empty bed and crumpled sheets. Opening his eyes, he realised that he was alone in the bed. He got up, running a hand through his tousled hair, wondering if she was in the en suite bathroom. Her clothes weren’t there, neither was her clutch. He got up to check the bathroom and found it empty. A deep sigh shuddered through him. She had left and he hadn’t even got her cell number. And what was her surname? Bharat frowned, thinking hard, as he rubbed his hands over his unshaven cheeks. Nope! He didn’t know. She had been with another girl, a dancer. He didn’t know the friend’s name either. Shit! He walked up to the table to see if she’d left a note. No, there was no trace of Dia.
And he had a flight to catch at noon, for an assignment in Delhi. It looked like his search for Dia would have to wait. He didn’t even know what she did or if she even lived in Mumbai. He swore before walking under the shower. He couldn’t help remembering reaching out to her in the middle of the night. They had made love again and it had been even better than the first time. With all those other women, it was Bharat who had been the giver. But Dia was such a generous lover that he so wanted to treasure her. Was she probably staying in the same hotel? He dressed quickly, packing his single luggage swiftly and efficiently. He decided to check at the hotel reception. Damn it! He hadn’t even bothered to take a selfie with her.
There was no one staying at the hotel with Dia as her first name. He didn’t have time to linger. Bharat called for a cab and left to go to the airport. He’d find her, definitely. Just then, it didn’t strike Bharat what an impossible task he’d set himself.
Dia Mathur had left Bharat’s hotel room at 6 am, taking a cab to her studio apartment. Luckily, none of the neighbours were up and about so early as it was a Sunday. It was rather awkward running about town in her slinky evening clothes in the morning. She hugged her secret to herself as she let herself into her flat, a smile on her face. She was glad she hadn’t held back when he asked to make love to her.
While the first time was a wonderful experience, he’d blown her away when they made love for the second time. Dia blushed, recalling the scene. She had surprised herself with her boldness. It had been around 4 am when she woke up in his arms, her bare back against his naked chest, his arm around her waist even as a large hand curled around a breast. She felt so cherished and all woman, revelling in her femininity.
She turned her head to kiss him on his arm, her tongue peeping out to touch the satiny skin. He moved, his eyes opening a slit, a smile on his handsome face. “Is it morning already?”
She shook her head, “Not really.”
He turned her to him, kissing her on her forehead. His lips lazily traced her features, moving on to her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks and then her chin.
Frustrated, Dia protested, holding his head in her hands and taking a bite of his lower lip, making him laugh softly. “Kiss me,” she ordered, keen to feel his mouth on hers.
Bharat obliged her, taking a taste of her lips. The kiss grew deeper as their limbs tangled, his shaft growing thicker and harder against her stomach.
Dia moved a hand down his waist to reach out to his manhood, caressing him lightly, making him growl deeply in his throat.
He, in turn, trailed his lips down her body, his tongue playing havoc with her nerves as he slowly reached the core of her femininity.
Dia moaned, her ha
nds holding on to his head tightly as he pleasured her vagina with his tongue. His hands held her thighs down as she thrashed her legs restlessly, a roaring filling her ears even as a climax built within her womb. “Bharat…” she groaned, reaching out for she knew not what as she felt the surge of an orgasm splitting her in two. She fell back on the bed, his head between her thighs, her breath coming in gasps. That had been explosive!
It took her more than a couple of minutes to feel the blood flow back into her veins. Her breathing got back to normal and she found the strength to lift her hands to caress the silky soft curls on her lover’s head. She hugged him close, whispering in his ear, “That was simply awesome. Show me how to love you, please. I don’t know.”
Bharat smiled adoringly at the woman in his arms. What an innocent! He took her hand and placed it against his erection. “You’re a natural,” he complimented her, kissing her deeply.
She caressed him with both hands, loving the velvety texture, her silver gaze seeking his eyes. His brown eyes were glazed with passion as he pulled her close. He gently shifted her hands to his shoulders and pressed his manhood against her vagina, seeking entry.
She was all wet and inviting, welcoming his hardness into her as she could feel him right within her womb. Then he rode her, and how! She held on to him for dear life, her face pressed into his chest, her lips tracing a flat male nipple while her slim legs wrapped around his waist. The tremors from within her core shook her up as Dia felt another orgasm building within her.
Bharat groaned as he climaxed, burying his face against her neck, his heart thundering. That had been mind blowing. He pulled out of her and moved to his side, drawing her close. He’d never felt the need to hug his sexual partner before now. He went to sleep, his head against her breasts, revelling in her gentle hold.
Dia opened her eyes to notice that she was sitting on the single sofa in her apartment, day dreaming. She got up to make herself a cup of coffee, a wide smile on her face. No, she didn’t need to sleep. She felt completely energised after all the wild lovemaking.
Flaming Sun Collection 2: Marriages Made in India (Box Set with 5 novellas) Page 25