Part 4 – Captured

The moonlight streamed in through the open window, stopping just short of the sleeping angel. Her long hair was spread in abandon on the pillow, petal soft lips murmuring secrets to the night. Her eyelids twitched restlessly as she watched a dream, a frown between her eyebrows.

The darkness stirred, a long shadow falling across the angel’s prone form. The bed dipped slightly as a monster sat across from her, an odd light in his black eyes. His hand reached towards her beautiful face,  a finger tracing the fragile bones of her cheek. She sighed, sinking further into her sleep. 

Intrigued, he loomed over her, wanting to feel her soft deep breaths against his skin. She sighed again, her neck arching like she wanted to be closer to him too. The monster’s large hand slipped under her head, his fist closing over her silken tresses. 

His breath rushed out in a deep groan, as she whispered his name. In her mouth, it sounded as sacred as a prayer and heady as wine. He brushed his lips over hers, yearning to capture their innocence to soothe his torment. 

The first sip tantalized him like a potent aphrodisiac, and so he dipped in for another taste…a long lingering one that squeezed his blackened heart. His fingers closed over the nape of her neck, deepening the damning kiss. A throaty hum escaped her, a delicious sound his mouth greedily ensnared.

Her body arched like a temptress’ invitation, turning fully into his arms. He groaned, praying fervently to the devil for restraint. His demons urged him to take her. Spread her legs and drink the nectar within till this ravenous hunger was satiated. Turn her over and possess her like the animal he was. Mark every inch of her with his lips, his tongue, his teeth…

But the monster resisted. He stilled, his mouth joined to hers. When he drew back, the angel’s silver eyes were looking at him like a mirror, a feral need in their slumberous depths. 

“Soon, my love,” he growled thickly. “Soon you will be mine.” He made her a vow, closing those haunting eyes with his palm. The monster waited till her breathing quietened. 

Then he crawled back to his lair, becoming one with the darkness again.

~ 

Pallavi stirred, her hands sliding across the satin bedspread lazily. Remnants of a beautiful dream teased her to wakefulness. She felt languorous, the sultry breeze from an open window enticing her back into the gentle folds of sleep.

As her hand slid across the bed space beside her, she realized it was cold. Her brows creased, slowly becoming aware of an unsettling emptiness. Where was Raghav? She could swear he had been here. His presence had reassured her as she had flitted in and out of hazy dreams the whole night.

Groaning, she sat up slowly, her head feeling heavier than usual.  Crisp morning air caressed her bare shoulders as the blanket slipped down a notch. Sleepy grey eyes blinked blearily at the pristine walls and then, widened in horror.

She was naked.

 Pallavi clutched the blanket to her chest, her mind scrambling to make sense of the night before.

“Namaskaram, madam!”

She jumped at the familiar voice, her gaze darting towards the source. A matronly figure stood near the window, tying the heavy drapes to the sides. She shielded her eyes as the room lightened, feeling disoriented.

Rama, her personal maid, pottered around the room, cleaning and setting the place in order like every day. Pallavi greeted her distractedly, hands fumbling for some water at the bedside table.

“Anna bola bhaang ka liye lemon water dene ko. Aapko hona?”

“Bhaang?!”

It was like the light switched on in her befuddled mind. The Holi party…

She almost threw off the covers to get to her feet, but the cool morning air on her naked torso gave her pause.

“Bhool gaya? Kal dopahar se aisa soya aap jaisa Kumbhkaran ka behen ho.” The old woman chuckled, handing her a beige bathrobe and tactfully turning her back for privacy. “ʼKapda poora geela, colour har jagah. Tumereku maine itna mushkil se change kiya. Ab jaldi karna please. Raghav Anna ko milna hona urgent. Jab se ghar aaya tab se itna worried aapka liye.”

A flood of memories hit her all at once, stilling her hands as she pulled the robe’s belt tightly. The party…Raghav watching her…The dori…The shed…

And then…

She drew in a shaky breath, a warm blush staining her cheeks. Her lips parted, skin tingling in remembrance. His mouth on her neck…Her hand rose towards the smooth skin at her nape wonderingly. She could feel her husband’s finger on her back like a trail of fire, branding his name on her body. His husky demand at her ear.

“Who do you belong to? Tell me, Pallavi.”

Pallavi mouthed his name silently, as if answering his spectre from a place deep within.

“Kal Farhad Anna poora staff ko ghar jaana ko bola,” Rama was saying, her voice echoing from the bathroom as she readied the bath. “Mera family bahargaon hai toh main apna friend ka ghar gaya Holi manane ko. Fir pata chala aap bhaang pi ke so gaya hai-“

She could barely hear the rest over the jumble of her thoughts and the sound of the running water. Brows furrowed, Pallavi moved towards the bathroom. Something in Rama’s words niggled at her, but her mind was too preoccupied to stew over it at the moment.

She slid into the heavenly waters of the tub and sighed in pleasure, her muscles relaxing into the welcoming warmth. Pallavi closed her eyes, deciding to take her time getting ready.

After all, she had a date with her husband this morning. 

~

Raghav looked up from his files as his wife walked into the study, her hands clasped demurely behind her back. She hesitated near the entrance, like a bashful little girl. Her eyes stared at the polished marble floors to avoid looking at him, a faint blush staining her cheeks. But as he studied her more boldly, he realized how wrong his initial assessment of child-like innocence was.

Pallavi, dressed in a mauve floor length dress with her lustrous hair teased into gentle waves, looked more like a seductive goddess; one who had come down to earth to hasten his descent to hell. Heavy sooty lashes cast long shadows on her cheeks, hiding eyes of a striking charcoal grey. Her rosebud mouth was parted slightly, like words rested on their surface. As he watched, he saw her tongue flick over their fullness, leaving a dewy moistness in their wake. Feeling his loins tightening in response, he gritted his teeth.

This was not the time.

Pallavi raised shy eyes to his, a vulnerability in their smokey depths. She licked her lips again, feeling oddly nervous. There was an anticipation in the air, like something significant had changed between them.

She shifted from one foot to the other, wondering if she had gone overboard with the grecian style summer dress. It didn’t help that her husband looked like a fallen angel in casual wear, leaning against the billiards board. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans today, dark locks tousled in casual abandon.

“Farhad nahi hain idhar?” she ventured hesitantly in the ensuing silence. Raghav rested more comfortably against the table, his long legs crossed at the ankles.

“Why, darling?” His voice came as a deep purr. “Tumko mera room uske bina accha nahi lagta? Or do you not feel safe…alone…with me?”

There was a look in his eyes that made her want to pick up her skirts and run. It also made her want to stay. It brought to mind certain disquieting things; things that made her body prickle in awareness in his mere presence.

I lie awake at night, thinking of you…wondering if I should touch you.

She suddenly felt flushed, her thoughts scattering like a flock of birds taking flight. Unable to bear his penetrating gaze, she strolled towards the large French windows, trying to appear poised and self assured.

“I wanted to thank you,” she rasped, then cleared her throat. Her eyes unseeingly fixated on the passing clouds in an azure sky, senses attuned to his every movement. She felt him stir behind her.

“Oh?” he murmured, his deep voice echoing in the huge study. He prowled closer, footsteps measured like those of a jungle cat’s. “What for?”

“For…what you did for me…yesterday.” Her voice sounded breathy to her own ears. “When I was…under the influence…you took care of me. Isliye main tumhe thank karna-”

“What are you even talking about?” She turned just as he stopped behind her, looking mildly curious. Waves of his heat seemed to trap her against the wall, making it hard to focus. “Tumko Farhad ko thank karna chahiye. He made sure you were taken care of in my absence. I only got to know about your deep love for bhaang this morning.”

She frowned. “I am being serious, Raghav.”

“Are you? Well, so am I.”

Pallavi stared at him, wondering if he had sampled some of the bhaang himself yesterday. He held her gaze for a moment, then slowly…deliberately…lowered it from her bemused eyes to the low V of her dress. She blushed, sucking in a sharp breath that unbeknownst to her, accentuated the swells of her bosom.

“I-I don’t like the direction… of this conversation.”

Her flustered choice of words brought a slow wicked smile on his sensuous lips. “Au contraire,” he told her silkily. “I find all of our conversations quite pleasurable these days.”

As Raghav raised his eyes again, she could see the hidden laughter in his obsidian depths. He was doing this on purpose, playing with provocative words to throw her into a muddle. She was sure of it now.

Pallavi inched away from the windows, taking a wide detour around him.

This was too much. She needed some distance.

She needed to be able to think.

He let her go, watching her with an intensity that could burn a hole in her back.

“You were there,” she accused softly, stopping near his prized books collection. Raghav was a voracious reader, devouring huge tomes on business, politics and history at a time. His vast bookshelves reached towards the ceiling, spanning the entire perimeter of the monstrous room. Seeing newly added fiction novels taking up one entire corner gave her pause. Some of them were from her favourite authors, the ones she had mentioned in passing as they bantered over Monopoly. Had he done this for her? He must have. It was the only explanation.

Feeling touched, she turned towards her enigmatic husband. Gentle sunlight was casting a halo around his body, in stark contrast with the devilish beauty of his features. Biting down a tender smile, she spoke, more assertively this time. “Kal tum aaye the party mein. We spoke. You comforted me when I was scared and I thought I would die. We were together in the shed for a long while. I remember…everything. Why are you denying it?”

He shook his head, raising his hands heavenwards. “Saree ka dukaan, tum aur tumhara hallucinations badhta jaa raha hai. I would like to believe I am a liberal man, who doesn’t mind if his wife enjoys her drinks responsibly in social gatherings. But I don’t understand your need to drink if you can’t handle it the next morning.”

Spots of colour danced across her cheeks. “How dare you,” she exhaled in outrage. “I don’t drink! I have never had more than a sip in my entire life! Yesterday, you yourself admitted that people mix bhaang in thandai on Holi as a joke. Main kya karun if you can’t control your own guests?!

Raghav pinched the bridge of his nose, his nostrils flaring. “I only know that such coincidences shouldn’t happen so often and so close together. And tumko main kitna baar bolega ki main kal Bangalore mein tha?! Meeting tha mera! I had to go on Holi because the first one got cancelled; that too, because of you.”

“Nahi the tum! Why are you sticking to this charade?!”

Her voice became high pitched in her frustration. Why was he saying all this? Was he joking?

He levelled her an icy look. “Madam, I don’t believe you are qualified to call me a liar. Were you or were you not inebriated yesterday?”

“I may be inebriated, but I am not an imbecile,” she snapped, her tender feelings dissipating in favour of a more volatile emotion. “I remember everything! You can’t lie and-”

“Just like you remembered seeing your ex husband come to life?”

His words were a low ominous rumble that sounded like a thunderous clap from across the room. Pallavi staggered back, her face drained of colour. “You…” she whispered, a sheen of angry tears in her eyes. “You are trying to call me a lightweight who can’t trust her own mind when intoxicated? Who doesn’t know reality from fiction, just because someone slipped some alcohol into her system? I have a habit of hallucinating my husbands when drunk – is that really what you are trying to say here? Do you even know how ridiculous that sounds?”

“Is this a twisted admission that you do ridiculous things?”

A dozen epithets rose to her tongue. She swallowed them back, hating how he had revealed his judgement of her. With his hands in his pockets, and a shoulder resting against the window frame, Raghav appeared authoritative and unruffled…and supremely bored.

“No,” she bit out, white hot anger pumping down her veins. “It reveals how twisted your mind is, how devoid of logic you can be for your agendas. With every lie you speak, you show me your disrespect, your utter disregard for our relationship. Yes, I saw my ex husband the other night, the one I loved…the one who supposedly died a year ago. And yes, I met you last afternoon. We held each other, shared a beautiful intimate moment. I thought it meant something to you. You-you even told me you want me!” She nearly choked on the words, memories that had thrilled her just this morning, now tasted like ashes in her mouth. “I thought kuch hai humare beech, something more than this sham of a marriage. But I was wrong. Tumne mujhe galat sabit kar diya. Well done, Raghav. I hope that makes you happy.”

Raghav straightened, his jaw clenched. “I think I have had enough.” His face was drawn into tight, lethal lines. Her eyes widened as he strode towards her purposefully. Before she could think to flee, he was beside her. She cried out as he grabbed her arm, abruptly pulling her towards his rosewood desk.

Digging her nails into his arm, she warned him. “You will not like the consequences if you manhandle me, Raghav Rao.”

In one smooth motion, he brought her against him. The breath whooshed out of her at the hard steely contact. Then he lifted and deposited her unceremoniously onto the desk like a grain of sack. She gasped, grabbing onto his broad shoulders for support. Slamming his hands on either side of her body, his coal black eyes bore into hers. “If we are making threats, darling, you won’t like the ones I have for you.”

She gaped at him, unable to believe his audacity. “Raghav, let me go!” She pushed at him ineffectually. Looking unfazed, he gave her a dark infuriating smile. She wanted to scream, so frustrated was she, but instead she schooled her features into one of cool disdain. “What will you do now? Browbeat me into submission?”

“No. I am a patient man. I can wait for you to overcome this childish tantrum and listen to me.”

Speechless with rage, Pallavi tugged on his wrists caging her on either side. It brought her into closer proximity, her head brushing against his jaw. But she persisted, determined to get away before she did something drastic, like murdering her own husband.

He let her struggle for a moment, then in a blinding move caught her hands, capturing both in his large ones and placing them on the desk. More than the action, it was the ease with which he bent her to his will that made her mad. “Let me go,” she repeated, a hint of menace in her soft voice. “Or I will do something that you will sorely regret.”

“More threats, I see,” his smile became wider, more devastating in its beauty. “I guess I will have to take you up on this one, saree ka dukaan.”

That did it. A fog of red hot rage covered her vision, her body shaking with the force of her fury. In a swift motion, she brought a knee up between their bodies and delivered a well aimed kick where it would hurt him the most.

He caught her foot reflexively, pushing it to the side and wedging himself firmly between her legs. She gasped at the intimate contact, squirming against his heavy body.

“So, you want to play, do you?” His voice was a silky whisper, eyes glittering with something dangerous. She could see a savage twist in his handsome features that scared her for the first time since their hasty wedding.

“Raghav, stop-”

He pressed himself against her core, shocking her into silence. “You think I am the one who has no respect for this marriage? What about you, Pallavi?”

“What about-”

He thrust against her again, shutting her crudely mid sentence. Anger and arousal warred within her as she stared mutinously into eyes that were opaque. “I respected your wishes to sleep separately on our wedding night,” he told her, coldness lacing his deep tenor. “I gave you the time to accept me, into your bed, perhaps even your heart…In these couple of months, we shared some good times. Times where I thought I saw a thaw in your perception of me as the villain of your life. I believed we could move ahead and create a marriage that existed in more than just a name. But then you run away from an important social gathering, hallucinate your ex husband, insist that he is actually alive and expect me to deal with it?”

“Raghav, I-”

Her words ended in a throaty sigh, as he gyrated himself deliciously against her. She blushed furiously, seeing him watching her with a dark, mocking smile. Her hands rose of their volition, hovering over his chest, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. In one quick movement, he recaptured her wrists, holding both with one hand above her head. Ignoring her panicked protests, his other hand went to the naked skin of her calves, pushing the folds of her dress up around her knees.

Pallavi had never been so enraged, so fcking turned on in her whole life. His hand on her skin, his hardness resting against her burning core, the wicked promise in the abyss of his eyes…She resisted the primal urge to wrap her legs around his torso, and surrender to his will.

“If you try to speak before I am done talking,” Raghav warned softly, his fingers brushing the silken creases trailing up her ankles. “I will push those flimsy white panties aside and we won’t end up talking at all.”

She choked on her ire, her flashing eyes signalling her contempt for his dirty tactics. He chuckled, his hand caressing her knee in light teasing strokes that sent unwelcome sparks of pure lust shooting down her spine.

“I think…” he squeezed her thigh in warning as she struggled against his hold. “…we should begin this charming conversation by dismantling your dream world, piece by piece, with solid proof.” She stilled, curiosity overtaking her chagrin. “To start with, I really was in Bangalore. No, don’t give me that disbelieving look. Farhad will help you with my boarding pass, flight tickets and hotel details. He keeps them all, for legal purposes. You may also give free reign to the suspicious wife in you, and go through my entire log of business chats at your convenience. You will see the whole conversation with the man I had gone to meet. I could even send you the minutes of the meeting, if you like.” A sardonic smile twisted his lips at this quip.

“Secondly, while you are sifting through those chats, you will find one riveting conversation with Arjun Kapoor, the host of the notorious dinner party where you, supposedly, met your zombie ex-husband. He will be apologizing profusely for a mix up in the soft drinks at his pre Holi bash and pandering to me to reconsider a business deal I flatly refused after this whole fiasco.”

Pallavi lay there stunned. She couldn’t take her eyes off his face, a flaring pit of dread coiling in her stomach. Could any of what he was saying be true? But how was this even possible? How could she trust anything if she couldn’t trust her own mind?

 “Thirdly,” he continued with exaggerated patience, making her itch to attempt another kick to his groin. “We have secured CCTV footage of both the fateful parties. Tumhara aankh kholna zaroori hai mera liye. I will leave you to watch the videos in as much detail as you would like, but first I need a gift for the trouble you put me through…”

Before she could grasp his meaning, his mouth swooped down, taking her lips in a searing hot kiss. Shock paralyzed her for a moment. All her questions, her resistance melted in a glorious blaze of desire. Molten heat surged down her stomach, pooling into wetness between her legs.

He began a rocking motion, the evidence of his arousal rubbing against the throbbing entrance to her womb. Her breasts were pressed tight against his chest, the tips reaching for his touch. He was hurting her, reducing her to a physical plane, where nothing mattered except the promise of pleasure and the man with the power to give it to her.

Their breaths coalesced as he took her apart with his sinful mouth, cajoling and teasing a response. She helplessly tilted her neck, deepening their kiss. He tasted of brandy, and something spicy…an intoxicating taste that reminded her of a pure carnal dance.

He boldly explored the curves of her mouth, his lips warm and insistent on hers. She yearned to make him feel this fiery ache, this driving need to be closer till she only existed as a part of him. She wanted to insist that he take her before she splintered in his arms, but she forced herself to remain perfectly still.

His tongue paused at her lips, demanding entrance…demanding her surrender. She denied him that with the last remaining bit of her resolve. With practiced ease, Raghav bit down on her lower lip as punishment, eliciting a pained whimper. Then he smiled against her lips and soothe the sting with his wicked tongue.

A visible tremor shattered her will, and her mouth opened under his. She felt him invade her, his tongue darting inside and curling around hers in wild, ravenous hunger. Pallavi allowed him this victory, her body melting completely against his. She kissed him back, allowing him to feel the force of her desire, the undeniable burning need for his touch.

In return, he gave her nothing – not a sigh, not a sound…no sign that he was in any way affected by this earth shattering kiss.

 But when he tore his mouth free, the truth was there on the harsh lines of his face. A savage arousal, a possessive gleam in the devil’s black eyes that suddenly frightened her. Her knuckles were almost white as she struggled against his hold, instinctively knowing that she was fighting a losing battle.

He closed his eyes, visibly struggling to hold back his ardour. She watched him fearfully, feeling very much like prey, with her fate trapped in the jaws of a predator. One wrong move, and he would vanquish her.

She held her breath as his eyes snapped open, their dark secrets shuttered this time. He let go of her wrists, the pressure on her chest easing as he lifted himself off her. She lay dazed on the desk, a shivering, hurting, lusting mess of rioting emotions.

To her great surprise, he began to walk away. She stared after him, feeling stung. Then he paused at the doorway. “You saw the truth in your dream,” he whispered huskily. “I do want you. But I am a territorial man, Pallavi. I will not share you, not even with the memories of another man.”

When he looked back at her, she could see the barely restrained longing on his tortured visage. It stole her breath away. “Come to me when you are wholly mine, when every single part of your being bears my name. Not a moment before that. The proof you seek is in my laptop, in a folder titled with your initials.”

With that, he strode away, leaving a cold empty space in his wake that forewarned her of a life without him.

***