His Captive Indian Princess

by Tanu Jain

  ‘You became a lawyer just to help others? And I accused you of lying and dealing in falsehoods. I’m so sorry,’ Vikram rasped through the huge lump lodged in his throat.

  Gauri flushed and averted her eyes, unsure how to respond to Vikram’s apology. She still had difficulty in adjusting to his tender attitude after so many years of hostilities.

  Silence descended on them, and gradually Gauri’s eyes closed and she nodded off.

  Vikram looked in silent amusement when her head slid sideways and came to rest on his shoulder. He gently adjusted his shoulder so that she would sleep comfortably and lightly placed his arm around her. Ignoring the flames of awareness shooting up his body, he, too, dozed off.

  When they reached the temple, Vikram gently shook Gauri. She awoke and gave a slight shiver. It had grown cold. The sky was overcast with grey clouds, and rain seemed imminent. There were some devotees, but for the most part the temple was not so crowded. As was customary, they bought some incense sticks and sweets and went inside. They bowed low in front of the statue of Lord Hanuman and Vikram gave their offerings to the priest, who took out a small piece and offered it at the statue’s feet. He then returned the rest to Vikram and blessed them both and applied vermillion on their foreheads. Gauri sat down on the floor to pray.

  Vikram looked at her sitting cross legged with folded hands, her head covered by the dupatta, eyes closed praying with intense concentration. The vermillion dot on her forehead glowed and gave her an ethereal look.

  It brought back memories of his mother. As a child, he had often sat in her room and watched her, bangles clinking melodiously, apply a vermillion dot called a bindi on her forehead. She would then look at herself in the mirror, turning her face up and down to see whether or not the bindi was in the centre. After this she would apply some vermillion powder called sindoor in the parting in her hair. Then she would step back and give her sari a final tug. And she would be ready.

  ‘Why do you put this bindi, Maa?’ he remembered asking her.

  ‘My son, after marriage, an Indian woman is supposed to be always adorned by bindi, bangles and sindoor because it is considered auspicious and shows a wife’s love for her husband.’

  ‘But, Maa, how can you love Baba? He is so bad to you and even beats you!’ Vikram had protested angrily.

  ‘Hush, beta! Don’t let anyone hear you. It is a wife’s duty to love her husband, otherwise she will be cursed in her next life. I, too, love your Baba and wish and pray to God that he is my husband in all my next births, too,’ his mother had affirmed softly.

  Vikram remembered himself asking innocently, ‘Maa, why can’t you pray to God to make him good so that he doesn’t beat us?’

  His mother had hugged him with brimming eyes and said, ‘I’m sure one day he will change. We just have to be patient.’

  Vikram had hated seeing tears in his mother’s eyes and had hugged her back tightly, saying, ‘I hate him, Maa! Once I grow up I won’t let him beat us.’

  ‘Yes, beta, I know that you will take care of me. And I will get you married to a nice girl and both of you can take care of me.’ His mother had smiled through her tears.

  ‘I will not marry!’ Vikram had said with the fierceness of a seven-year-old.

  ‘Don’t say that! I will find a beautiful girl for you who will love you and you will love her, too.’ His mother had hugged him.

  But that wasn’t to be. Soon afterwards, he had found her lying on the ground, a gun beside her, eyes staring vacantly and bleeding from the head.

  As he had held his dead mother in his arms a numbing coldness had enveloped him. Holding her and seeing the blood dripping from her forehead had gouged out something vital from his soul. Seeing her being cremated had turned him to stone and he had been unable to shed even a tear.

  Soon after, when he had been banished to boarding school, the image of his mother had haunted him, making him unable to sleep for months on end. Gradually, he had willed this image of his mother away and superimposed the image of her dressed in her finery, adorned by bangles, bindi and sindoor, smiling and beckoning to him.

  His childhood ache to be enveloped in his mother’s doting arms once more returned with force. He willed away the ache and looked at Gauri, sitting there, her eyes still closed. She would make a beautiful bride. Suddenly, he wanted to lean on her, to be enveloped in her arms and feel cherished. The next moment he berated himself for his emotional weakness. His breath felt constricted, and he got up, desperate for some fresh air.

  Gauri finished her prayers and opened her eyes. She looked around and, failing to locate Vikram, got up and went out. He couldn’t be found in the temple precincts.

  She espied him in the garden adjacent to the temple, leaning against a stone balustrade. His head was bent and his face looked bleak and tragic. His shoulders sagged as if under a heavy burden. She had never seen Vikram like this. He always seemed so forceful, dynamic and full of life. It seemed inconceivable that he could also feel stressed or under pressure.

  Suddenly, she wanted to hug him, hold him close, comfort him and chase away the shadows troubling him. She went behind him and touched his shoulder lightly, her hand trembling with uncertainty. Vikram looked up with a start and his eyes widened, an undefined emotion clouding them.

  Gauri’s hand remained still for a moment and she stared at him wordlessly, willing away the sadness she could sense. She gently squeezed his lean shoulder, and Vikram felt his control burst. He jerked her into his arms and held her tight as if he would never let her go. He stood still, savouring the feel of her slender body which fitted perfectly in his arms, drawing strength from her nearness. The weakness which had flooded him melted away and he felt strong and invincible. His heart heaved.

  Gauri could feel her heart racing uncontrollably. It was heaven being held in Vikram’s arms. Her body felt fused to his and she hugged him back, a curious feeling in her heart, wanting to banish the demons plaguing him. His hold tightened and he nuzzled into her neck. Her heart melted.

  She loved him. She had always loved him. She felt curiously light-headed and closed her eyes. She felt a bright radiance lighting her up from inside and inundating her completely. They stood like this for countless moments.

  With difficulty, Vikram put her away from him. This was not the right moment to lose his head.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he said softly.

  Gauri stumbled a bit and he clasped her hand strongly and they went back into the temple. She felt afraid to look at him after the momentous discovery she had made; he would see the love shining out from her eyes and she didn’t want him to know. She took deep breaths and calmed herself.

  They stood in front of the priest, and Gauri folded her hands and asked him in a low tone, ‘Panditji, my father is ill. What can I do to make him all right?’

  The priest looked at Gauri with a piercing gaze, nodded slowly and picked up some flowers lying at the idol’s feet and intoned, ‘Go and offer these flowers at the shrine behind this temple. He will be well soon. May happiness be yours.’

  He then turned to Vikram and stared piercingly at him, too, and said, ‘You will find your heart’s desire very shortly.’

  He then blessed them both and sprinkled sacred water called Gangajal on them.

  They went behind the temple. There was a small locked gate and a gatekeeper was sitting at the entrance. Seeing the flowers in Gauri’s hands, he opened the gate and let them go through. It was a small secluded path covered by overgrown bushes and trees. Not many people were allowed to come here, it seemed.

  Above them, the clouds rumbled angrily. Vikram put his arm around Gauri and hurried her along. There would be no shelter if they were caught in a downpour.

  They reached the shrine in a few minutes and stood, entranced. The statue on the ground was stupendously arresting. One hand was held up in blessing and the look on the idol’s face was full of smiling eloquence. The eyes seemed to be vibrant and alive and Gauri felt as if they were delving right into her
being and detecting the pain and sadness that lay inside her. Tears filled her eyes and she bowed her head and, with folded hands, offered the flowers at the idol’s feet.

  She stood in this pose for a couple of minutes, Vikram’s arm around her, and felt benediction flowing over her. Her Baba would be fine now. Madhav Dada would be found, too.

  Gazing at the idol, Vikram was similarly overcome with intense emotion. He closed his eyes and the restlessness plaguing him for years seemed to abate. The rushing, frantic pace of life fell still and silent. It was as if he had reached the end of a marathon journey. In repose, the void inside him dissolved into nothingness and he felt peace stealing into his soul. He realised the innate power at the centre of his being and felt complete, as if an important missing piece of his soul had finally fitted in. The arm holding Gauri tightened and, with an air of resoluteness, he vowed to marry her soon.

  This would right the wrong he had committed and his friend’s memory, too, would not be tarnished. She would be his and he would protect her and cherish her. He would make her happy and make sure that she never lacked for anything. He wryly accepted that his happiness was entwined with hers.

  The clouds above them broke and rain poured over them in torrents. They looked at each other in dismay, soaked to the skin in seconds. Gauri burst out laughing at the comical look on Vikram’s face. After a moment Vikram, too, joined in. They ran back to the car.

  Vikram debated what to do. They hadn’t brought any clothes and he could see Gauri beginning to shiver. He was feeling cold, too.

  He asked his driver to drive around and look for somewhere suitable to rest awhile. After driving for about twenty minutes, they located a motel and went in. It was a small motel and had only about five rooms and one suite.

  Mindful of propriety, Vikram booked the suite and a double room. He left Gauri in the suite and told her to take a hot shower and change out of her wet clothes while he did the same. He had a shower but couldn’t find anything to change into. Wrapping a towel around himself and arranging another one over his shoulders, he went to see how Gauri was faring. She was still in the bathroom.

  He banged on the door, ‘Come out—you’ll catch a cold in there.’

  ‘I can’t come out. I don’t have anything to wear,’ she wailed from inside.

  ‘Wrap a towel or two around you,’ Vikram suggested.

  ‘They are too small. They don’t cover me properly,’ Gauri answered without opening the door.

  Vikram looked behind him and yanked the sheet off the bed. ‘Here, take this,’ he said.

  Gauri opened the door slightly and took the sheet.

  Vikram glanced around. The suite was not very large but at least it was clean. He called Reception and asked for some snacks and hot milk to be sent up. They hadn’t had dinner and his stomach was growling with hunger.

  Gauri came out hesitantly and Vikram bit back an amused smile when he saw how she had enveloped herself in the bed sheet. She looked like a small tent. She was shivering intermittently.

  ‘Get into bed and warm yourself,’ he ordered her.

  There was a knock at the door and a waiter appeared with a tray. Gauri squealed with dismay and hid under the blanket on the bed. Vikram took the tray at the door to spare her further embarrassment.

  ‘I thought you didn’t fear anyone and here you are scurrying like a mouse,’ he said in amusement.

  ‘Shut up—I’m glad you find it so amusing!’ she retorted, her voice muffled from beneath the covers.

  ‘You can come up to the surface now. The waiter has gone,’ he said with a chuckle.

  He pulled off the blanket and Gauri desperately clutched at the sheet, which had entangled in the blanket and left her body exposed. Colour flooded her face, and she was unable to meet his eyes. Vikram felt a punch in his gut as he glimpsed her voluptuous breasts and enticing navel before she covered it all up again. He could feel his arousal turning rock-hard. He ached so badly for her. Stifling his ache, he bent and handed the glass of milk to her.

  ‘Drink up,’ he said softly. Gauri looked at the glass and made a face. She hated drinking warm milk.

  But Vikram stood over her until she had finished it to the last drop. As she finished, a tiny moustache formed above her lips and, before he could control himself, Vikram leaned over and licked it off. Gauri gave a sudden start and her breath fluttered out, warm and drugging. Vikram inhaled her breath and wove his fingers through her gloriously loose hair and caught her upturned lips in his. The kiss started gently and he nipped at her lips with butterfly touches. She tasted of milk and sugar, and Vikram drank thirstily of her sweetness.

  Soon passion flared hotly between them and their kisses became more and more intense until they kissed with furious abandon. Vikram threw off the bedclothes and slid his arms down her back and cupped her bottom intimately to his arousal.

  Gauri melted into him, and he buried his mouth in the hollow below her collarbone and inhaled her scent. She smelt of dewy wet roses, and he licked her velvety skin. The blanket had fallen away, baring her luscious breasts. Vikram gently nipped her throbbing breasts. They tasted as sweet as the mangoes he loved to eat.

  A heated gasp broke out of Gauri and she trembled. He rained tender kisses in circles and finally captured her distended nipple in his mouth. He suckled hard and then gently nipped, and she whimpered and thrashed her head from side to side. His towels, too, had fallen off and his hair-roughened chest crushed her lush creamy breasts, and Gauri shuddered with pleasure. Her arms went around him, and she hesitantly caressed his back and when her fingers splayed over his taut buttocks he felt the air whooshing out of his lungs. He was mere seconds away from losing control.

  He dragged air into his lungs and forced himself to breathe deeply. He looked at her face and saw that her eyes were tightly shut and her lips were trembling and a feeling of tenderness engulfed him. She was an innocent and he had hurt her once. The next time he took her she would be his legally wedded wife.

  He reined in his passion and subdued his inner craving, which wanted him to take her there and then.

  Gently, he kissed her closed eyes. She opened them and whispered, ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘No. I don’t think we should be doing this. I want to wait for our wedding night,’ he told her sombrely.

  ‘Wedding night! Whose wedding night?’ Gauri was incoherent with confusion.

  ‘Ours! You will marry me! And don’t argue. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you!’ Vikram said arrogantly.

  Gauri stared at Vikram as if he had taken leave of his senses. ‘Have you gone mad? Why would I marry you?’

  ‘Because I say so! I have wronged you and I will never forgive myself if I don’t make it all right for you,’ Vikram said.

  ‘Just because you … I … we made love doesn’t mean you have wronged me! And everything is all right. You don’t have to do anything. I’m quite capable of looking after myself.’ Gauri was vehement in her protest. She wasn’t worthy of him. Her birth and parentage was … well, if he came to know the truth, he would hate her. Cold tentacles of fear gripped her.

  ‘Why do you argue so much? Can’t you just do as you’re told?’ Vikram asked furiously.

  ‘No, I can’t! Who are you to order me?’ she lashed out, hiding her fear.

  ‘I am the person who will look after you! You will do as you are told!’ Vikram lashed back, infuriated, seething with unrelieved sexual frustration and fear that she would reject his proposal.

  Gauri was almost speechless with rage. The male chauvinist pig!

  ‘I am not a puppet to obey you blindly,’ she flared, her eyes shooting daggers.

  Vikram’s control snapped. The only way to shut her up was to kiss her. He caught her chin and his mouth claimed hers punishingly. He would bend her to his will. But as soon as their lips met he forgot everything but the passion which flared like an inferno.

  A force field of vibrating electricity enclosed them, and desire quivered violently as their lip
s met and meshed and their tongues tangled and danced with abandon. The potent kiss sent tremors of longing through his already aching body, and he felt he would explode right away. His taut body seemed to be sending off heat in waves, and her body was vibrating in response.

  He pushed her back on to the bed and her luscious body was bared to his view. He urgently caressed her unfettered breasts, kneading and moulding them, and fire streaked all over her body, and an ache began building in her lower body. He lowered his mouth to her pouting nipples and laved them lovingly. She clutched his broad shoulders desperately and almost screamed when he began urgently suckling the coral tips one by one. Then he teased her mercilessly by biting her tight nipples gently and the pleasure was so intense that she screamed. He took her mouth in his and swallowed her scream of pleasure.

  Gauri felt his erection throbbing against her pelvis, and wetness pooled between her thighs. She brought her hands between their bodies to touch him shyly but he held her hands and moved down between her thighs. Before Gauri could grasp anything, Vikram parted her thighs and inhaled her sweet, damp fragrance. His tongue darted out between the folds of her desire at first teasingly and then insistently with rhythmic strokes.

  Gauri was incandescent with sensation and felt as if she would go up in flames. Her fingers clutched his silky hair in desperation and she tried to tug him away.

  He stopped and, before Gauri could guess his intention he lifted her hips up and stretched her thighs wide open and plunged his tongue inside to the very centre of her being. His tongue flirted and stroked and drove her faster and faster, higher and higher until she felt she would explode. And then suddenly the insistent pressure building inside her burst and her body convulsed with mind-numbing pleasure and with a hoarse cry of delight she scattered into a million fragments.

  She lay there, pleasure coursing through her in waves, and then opened her eyes and looked at him shyly and wonderingly. Vikram gathered her to him and tenderly kissed her on the forehead. She reached out and touched his face and kissed him sweetly. He hugged her to him and she felt his hard shaft throbbing against her. She reached out to touch him but he stopped her.