DISCLAIMER: I'd say it's 18+ on the mature part. It's vanilla, not kinky, but detailed. I've marked where the mature part starts off with a row of *** for anyone who wishes to skip it. To me, this is mature fluff.

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3 months later

Raavi wondered at how much life had changed in the past months even as she got her Anita di ready. Why, you ask? Well, her di was finally getting married, and to Hardik bhaiyya of all people. Although her di had chosen the wrong path in the days post Raavi's wedding, the way everyone had pitied Prafulla's two laadli daughters having reopened the unhealed wound of her loss to Dhara di, Raavi's marriage almost breaking apart had frightened her Maasi into putting her foot down. 

Her di had stopped attempting to make a place for herself in Pandya Niwas, and instead had become as withdrawn as she had been after Dhara di and Gaumbi's wedding all those years ago. They had all tried to talk to her, her Maasi had even set a deadline for her Di's wedding, threatening to get her married off to whoever asked for her hand first. Her di's only response had been silence. Until she'd bumped into Hardik bhaiyya at the temple one day, and the concern from a man who had every reason to hate her had finally pushed her over the edge. She'd broken down in bhaiyya's arms, crying about how she didn't want to be married off to some stranger, about how she felt like a burden on the world. And the rest, as they say, is history. 

On the other hand, Raavi's own story had moved forwards in leaps and bounds. In fact, if she played Shiva's little game right today, she should be moving forward by a whole chapter, she thought as a hot blush rose to her cheeks. 

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That night

Raavi sat in front of the vanity, waiting for Shiva. He really should have been here by now, she thought petulantly. Here she was, his wife, somnath ki sabse sundar ladki, waiting with the best surprise ever for him, and the bandar was probably in the kitchen, chatting with Dhara di and munching on the wedding sweets before di managed to put them all away. 

As Raavi waited on her bhootnath, her thoughts strayed to the past months. She still remembered how when Suman kaki and Maasi had refused to let her move back in to Pandya Niwas, Shiva had threatened to move into her Maasi's house, forcing both of them to give in. They had begun a new journey from there. She had begun the process of understanding Shiva, and Shiva had learnt to open his heart to her. And they had fallen in love. Fast and hard and so, so deep. They'd both known it, but neither had confessed. 

It had been exactly 28 days ago that Raavi had blurted it out in the heat of the moment. He laughed at her blushing face, rubbing his cheeks against hers as he backed her into their almari door, his amusement at her complaints making his eyes glitter. "Par Shiva, teri dhaadi sach main chubti hain!! Main yeh nahin keh rahin hoon ki kaat le, bas aise rub math karo na!"

Still grinning, and still rubbing, the annoying bhootnath had asked her "Ay chipkali, kabhi kabhi mujhe shak ho jaata hain ki tune mujh se shaadi ki hain ya meri dhaadi se? Abh to main kaat ke hi rahungi isse. Agar main bandar jaise dhika na, tho bhi mujhe farak nahin padega."

In shock and outrage that he would even consider doing such a thing, she had grabbed onto his vest, "Dekh bhootnath, maine shaadi bhi tujhse ki hain, aur pyaar bhi, pan tera yeh dhaadi bhi mere liye bohot pyaari cheez hain. Tho isse kaatne ke baare main sochna bhi mat!" He had frozen, and a moment later she had too, her eyes wide and cheeks blazing. He had taken his own sweet time to confess though. 

Raavi had almost had an anxiety attack because of his silence. In the quite moments of the night, when it was just her and him and their hands holding on to each other, she had felt his love deep down in her bones. But she had believed one man's silence to be acceptance and been broken for it. She hadn't been willing to make the same mistake again. Thankfully, she hadn't needed to. 

21 days ago, she'd walked into their room to call Shiva for dinner, only to find it in complete darkness. Before she knew it, she had heard the door locking, had been cornered against the wall, and the night lamp had been turned on. He had confessed, finally.

"Jaanta hoon, ki meri khaamoshi ne tujhe bohot sataaya hoga, par mujhe thoda vakt ki zaroorat tha Raavi. Varna mujhe khud nahin bata ki main apni khushi main aake kya kar baith thi." He had cupped her cheeks in his hands, pushing away the stray strands of her hair, "Pan aaj ye Shiva tumse keh raha hain Raavi, main tumse pyaar karta hoon, poore dil se. Main kab ka tumhara ho gaya tha, bas tumhari issi level pe aane ka intezaar tha mujhe."

Later, as they lay in each other's arms that night, and he narrated the tale of his love for her, he had made two promises to her. The first, that she would have complete control of the pace of their physical relationship. The second, that whenever she agreed to go all the way, he would leave such a deep impression on her that it would be as if he had painted his name on her. It had been sweet at the moment, but it had quickly become irritating. She had really underestimated her husband's inability to take a hint. Paint his name on her, will he? Him and his tall tales...

So, Raavi had taken things into her own hands. And it so happened that Shiva's little game had played right into her hands as well. What game, you ask? Well, it had all started with her Maasi, like all troublesome things did. Two weeks ago, her Maasi had come over to Pandya Niwas when Shiva was at the store and claimed that since it was Raavi's sister's wedding, she was technically a part of the bride's family, and so should stay with the bride for the duration of the wedding. Suman Kaki had reached out for her danda almost immediately.

After nearly an hour of everyone but her giving their ten cents, the elders had unanimously voted. Raavi was to leave immediately with her Maasi, and come back home as soon as the bidaai was done with. She hadn't wanted to go, and she had tried calling Shiva multiple times as she packed her things as slowly as she possibly could. He hadn't picked up her calls. Raavi had been pissed off. She had asked Dhara di to inform him of her whereabouts and left. She still blushed when she remembered kaaki's whispered advice as she bent to take her blessings. "Tujhe kya lagta hain, ki ye budhiya ko kuch samajh nahi aata hain? Sab bata hain mujhe. Tumhari aankhon main saaf saaf dikhti hain ki tu jaana nahi chahti hain. Par dooriyan kabhi kabhi pyaar ko badati hain. Kab tak aise sharma ke bhagenge ek dusre se?" Raavi had choked in surprise, and had simply nodded at kaaki before leaving.

Well, kaaki had been right. Shiva hadn't called her at all during the first week, and Dhara di had let her know that he was angry she'd left without telling him. Well, she'd tried, hadn't she? Raavi hadn't called him either. Instead she'd gotten his little surprise done so that it would be ready by the time she got back home.

The day of the haldi function, though? He'd been the first person to come over, purportedly with the haldi for the rasam. And, had stayed back claiming that someone needed to help, since his poor Mama couldn't be expected to handle the crowd of women all alone. Raavi hadn't spared a glance for him beyond the initial moment of shock when she'd opened the door to invite them in. She had gone straight to shower once all the guests had left. She had to go make lunch for just the four of them still, but the haldi Anita di has smeared all over her face had begun to dry out. Having forgotten her clothes outside, Raavi had instead walked out with the petticoat to her saree tied above her chest and her hair in a knot at the top of her head. She had been pulling her clothes out of her almari when she had felt his eyes on her. She had turned around abruptly, only to find Shiva standing so close that her nose brushed against his chin.

"Shiva? Lekin mujhe laga tu ghar chala gaya tha", Raavi whispered to him. " Shhh...", he had whispered as he'd pulled his hands out from behind his back, showing her the bowl of haldi in his hands. He placed the bowl on the dresser besides them, gathering some of the paste in his hands before placing them on her shoulders. Raavi closed her eyes, the coolness of the paste, the warmth wherever his skin touched hers, the vulnerability of letting Shiva see her in such a compromised position for the first time, all overwhelming her. He had ran his hands along her shoulders, down her arms. He had intertwined their fingers and smeared some of the paste on her palms before following the same path back up to the junction  between her neck and shoulder. He had then gently grabbed her wrists and used her own hands to spread the haldi on her cheeks as she watched him without even daring to blink. Her eyes had fluttered close when he had rubbed his cheeks against her own though, the haldi transferring to his own. She waited, holding her breath, for his next move, only to feel the warmth move away from her.... By the time Raavi opened her eyes, Shiva had climbed off her balcony and was moving down the ladder. As she turned, she saw a piece of nearly folded paper underneath the bowl of haldi. Written on it in his handwriting were the words, 'Meri shaadi ki haldi ki shuruwat agar tujhse nahi huin, tho phir meri haldi kaisi?'. The words seemed familiar, but part of one of their numerous memories that she couldn't recall spontaneously.

The next day morning, something similar had happened during the mehendi rasam as well. She had been in the kitchen making another batch of chai and kachoris for the ladies when he'd walked into the kitchen with one of the neighborhood girls, who promptly took over the cooking. He'd held her by the forearm and pulled her along with him even as she'd quietly protested. He had only stopped once he'd reached her room's balcony, where a mehendi artist was waiting, and he had sat her down in front of the lady. "Aap iski donon haathon main mehendi lagaaiye. Iss chipkali ki koi baat sunne ki jaroorat nahin hain. Aur haan, dulhan ko kaise lagaate hain, vaise lagaani chaahiye." The lady had got to work immediately, sketching a design up to her elbows.

She had watched in silent shock before resuming her protests with renewed josh. How was she supposed to work around the house with mehendi on her hands? And what was the need for such an elaborate design? He had stayed annoyingly silent till she'd threatened to wipe the mehendi off. He had promised to tell her later, had pulled up a stool, and sat and watched her hands with a focus he had once reserved for watching his maa's kangans on her maasi's hands. He had run out the room and locked it from the outside before she could force him to answer her questions though. Damn that gadheda for being smart enough to know that Raavi simply wouldn't risk smudging the mehendi on her hands by chasing after him.

That night, she had been thankful that he hadn't tried to sneak her away. He had simply danced with her in front of everyone. And had monopolised her for most of the night, so much so that people had been teasing them left, right, and center. But the glint in his eyes had let her know that whatever he had been doing, he had been doing with a purpose. He still hadn't said anything though, and she had maintained her silence beyond the basics as well.

But as Raavi finally recalled in complete detail what had happened this evening before the wedding, she felt the blush on her cheeks intensify and turned away from the mirror finally. She had just turned towards the door when Shiva opened it to walk in. Her heart stopped beating for a moment, a thrill of possessiveness running through her. This man, with his handsome face, his beautiful heart, that heartstopping smile on his face? This man was hers. Shiva locked the door and walked up to her, his eyes locked on hers. Placing his hands at the ends of her shoulders, he turned her towards the mirror, placing himself behind her.

"Kapde badalna nahi hain kya?", he asked after a moment as he moved his thumbs in circles against the skin of her shoulders. "Meri madad nahi karoge tu?", she asked him instead, staring at him through the mirror, they're eyes still not straying. He gave her another of those heartstopping smiles before he began to pull out the multiple hairpins she had stuck through her hair that evening. Raavi's mind wandered again to thoughts of that evening, his soothing hands ridding her of all the tiredness from the hectic day. She had been sitting in front of the mirror of her dresser, struggling to get the gajra to stay in place when she had seen Shiva quietly jump into her balcony. She had been expecting him, the words from his cryptic note having made a reappearance in her dreams yesterday night. She had said those words to him before playfully applying haldi to him, before her own wedding. Her cancelled wedding to Dev, to Shiva's elder brother. Raavi blocked the memories of those days as much as she could, choosing to see them as rituals another girl had happily celebrated. But the irony of it all, was that she had competed all those rituals with Shiva much more honestly in enmity than she had with Dev in love.

He walked in, taking over with the gajra as she wondered if her suspicions were right or not. Her heart said he was making sure that they completed all the rituals of their wedding, in love, this time around. Shiva never did things halfway, and their wedding had been incomplete. Not literally, but in the sense that Raavi hadn't mentally accepted that she was marrying Shiva until the sindoor had fallen on her face. She wanted him to admit to it though. Having affixed the gajra, he looked up to meet her eyes in the mirror. "Samajh main aayi ya nahin, gadhedi?", he whispered to her, and she whispered back her question. "Par kyun?". She watched as his eyes showed understanding of her question. Why do all this? Was this really still necessary?

"Afsos badi hi kutti cheez hoti hain Raavi. Shahad aaj tujhe iss baath se koi dikkat nahin hain ki hum donon ne kabhi ye saare rasmein ek dusre ke saath nahi ki hain. Par kal jab humare bacche, ya koi bhi ayre gayre insaan tumse humari shaadi ke baare main pooche, tho? Naa tum jhoot bhol paaoge, aur naa hi sach. Jab hum donon apne rishte ko sudhaar rahe hain, tho shaadi bhi kyun nahi?" She had just nodded at him and picked up her mangalsutra from the dresser to hand over to him. He had clasped it around her neck and taken a pinch of sindoor from her dibbi, holding his fingers above the part in her hair, waiting. Waiting for permission, she realised with a jolt. He hadn't asked on the day of their wedding, or that once at the haveli, and he'd never even tried to do it after that.

Her eyes teared up as she remembered how she'd longed for this at times, for Shiva to fill her parting as he would have if they had been married under different circumstances. She hadn't realised just how much those memories still hurt. She nodded again, and he filled her parting, a neat red line left in the wake of his fingers. She smiled at him as he pecked her temple before walking backwards towards her balcony, sneaking out just as quietly as he had sneaked in.

"Aye chipkali, kaun si khayali duniya main kho gayi hain tu?", he asked her, pulling her back to the now to see the tender look on his face, curiosity causing his eyebrows to furrow. She shook her head sideways with a smile before closing her eyes, reveling in the feel of him simply running his hands through her now loose hair, the scent of the mogra from her gajra stronger in the air from when he had crushed it while trying to remove it. He took her earrings off, then her necklace and bangles, before saying "Gadhedi, saara kaam main hi karun kya? Chal, jaake kapde tho badal", and moving away. She turned quickly, holding onto his wrist and stopping him, standing up as she acknowledged the questioning look he was throwing her way. "Shiva, bas ye ek pin nikaal do na?", she said, indicating the pin holding her pallu in place behind her shoulder even as she removed the one in the front. Dutiful husband that he was, he gathered her hair over her right shoulder and did it, only for her pallu to slide down and to the side, exposing her back completely. Just as she had expected. She waited as he just stood there for a moment before sucking a sharp breath in. He pushed the stool of the dresser to the side and kneeled behind her, his large hands coming up to cup her hips.

"Raavi... Yeh... Kya? Matlab, kyun?" There, at the curve of her lower back, lay a tattoo. A tattoo of a trishool, a damru tied to it, jasmine vines curling around and away from it, and the word Shiva curving around the pointed ends at the top of it all. She twisted her upper body around to face him, only to see him staring at the tattoo with a look of wonder on his face. "Kyun ki tune mujhse vaada kiya tha Shiva. Ki jab bhi main ready ho jaoon poori tarah se tumhari hone ke liye, tu mujhe aise apnayega ki tumhari naam ka tag mujhpe humesha ke liye chipak jaayega. Par main kaafi dinon se ready hoon, aur tu tho kuch karne se raha." He looked up at her so fast she was worried he would twist his neck for a moment, but then she continued on. "Isiliye maine ye ki hain. Tumhara naam to maine khud chipak li, ab tho apnaa lo na mujhe".

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The look of wonder on his face deepened, before transforming as he glanced at her tattoo again. His pupils dilating, possessiveness and desire and so much more all jumbling together. The only warning Raavi had before he stood up in a flash had been the tightening of his hands on her hips. He turned her around slowly, her chest brushing against his every time she inhaled, her nose brushing against his collarbone. Jasmine and cinnamon blooming away in her little world. She looked up as he looked down, their noses softly bumping against each other. "Pakka? Phir yeh mat kehna ki junglee bhaloo ne noch khaa liya", he whispered to her. "Pakka. Aur vaise bhi, main kaun si sehmi si, khoyi si, maasoom ladki hoon?", she whispered back with a challenge in her voice. He moved closer, his lips just brushing against hers and stopped. Her call it was then, she thought as she pressed her lips against his. Once, twice, thrice. Simply pecking him. She stopped then, her lips still against his, to place her hands on his forearms and run them up his arms, to his shoulders.

He moved his hands, one going to gently trace the tattoo, the other running up her spine to the nape of her neck. He tilted her head up and moved forward to claim her lips in the same move. Returning the three pecks she had given him first before pulling her lower lip into his mouth. He ran his tongue along the length of it, and she moved her hands around his neck as her knees buckled. He tugged at it gently with his teeth before letting go, repeating the same with her upper lip. Except, she nipped at his lower lip as well. And then he growled. She felt it more than she heard it, but, junglee bhaloo indeed. He tightened his hold on her as he kissed her again, the pressure insistent enough that she parted her lips for him and he ran his tongue along her teeth. His arm wound around her waist, his fingers long enough that they rested halfway to her navel. And then he sweeped in, teeth and tongue and lips invading her, her a welcoming host. Slowly, she learnt, reciprocating hesitantly at first, and then boldly.

She ran her hands over him. His shoulders. So broad. Up into his hair. So, so, soft. She ran them down his back, feeling the muscles in his back tense before flexing as he pulled her hard against him. Not even air between them. His sherwani needed to disappear. Now, she decided. She pulled back from their kiss, her first kiss, she realised with a jolt. He watched her patiently, his hands circling on her skin as she slid her hands up his torso, unbuttoning his top slowly, steadily. No chest hair, thank god. He'd bothered her enough with his beard once he realised how much it affected her. And she'd never been a fan anyways. She finished unbuttoning, then slowly pushed it off his shoulders, still not daring to touch his skin, and she sucked in a sharp breath. Magnificent. That's what he was. A Greek statue manufactured by Lord Brahma just for her. Custom made, she thought as a giggle burst out.

"Tujhe badi hasi aa rahi hain?", he asked her as she looked up at him to see him smiling crookedly at her, a twinkle in his eyes. So beautiful. "Nahi, voh tho bas aise hi." She wasn't willing to be teased by him right now. She placed her hands on his shoulders, running them down his torso, across his abs as they tensed, his skin soft like the smoothest ice cream. Up again until they stopped suddenly. Her eyes flashed up to his eyes again.

Lub dub, lub dub.... His heart thudded so loudly under her hands. For her. This was all for her, she realised as she saw a vulnerability in his eyes he never let anyone else see. As if he thought she would crush his heart under her feet. She didn't break their connection as she placed her lips over his heart, placing an open mouthed kiss there, swallowing hard. And then she took hold of his arms, pulling them away, holding his hands and placing them on her midriff. "Please, Shiva", she said. Touch me, her eyes said. His hands tightened in response before smoothing over her belly, her waist. His fingers running along where her saree was tucked in as he quirked an eye browin question. She nodded at him, and then gasped as he pulled her pleats out in one smooth move. He walked around her, pulling her saree out with one hand, the other running along her midriff with a feather light touch until he was behind her.

He fingered the multiple doris of her blouse, slightly tugging on them in another silent question. She nodded, and he tugged them loose, the hooks next. Swiftly and quickly and surely. 3 doris, two hooks only, no bra. Her cheeks flamed as he sucked a breath in upon realising the same. Well, why did he think she'd gone for such a modest drape today? He smoothed his hands over her back like an artist would with a canvas, pushing her blouse to the edges of her shoulders but stopping before it fell off. Wrapping her hair around his right hand, left curving around her waist possessively, he tugged, a warm wetness pooling down there as the tip of his nose came to rest against the side of her neck he'd exposed, just breathing her in. She understood, really. Wasn't she intoxicated by the very scent of him as well? But she wanted more, so she stepped back into the heat of him until they were touching everywhere.

He began kissing up her neck, open mouthed kisses, nipping at her skin, then soothing them with his tongue. She reached back with her hands for his hair as he kissed that spot, right behind her ear, and she moaned. Shiva chuckled, his breath breezing against her skin before he pecked her there once more and continued. Down her neck, across her shoulder. He twisted her around, head lowering to lick a stripe along the length of her collar bone. She clutched at his back for support. And her blouse slipped off of one shoulder. Shiva froze, before he almost instinctively nuzzled his face into the valley between her breasts. He froze again as she moaned, then giggled as his hair tickled her. She was just so sensitive. He kissed against the curve of her breast that was visible now before lifting his head up to meet her eyes, his hands coming around to the drawstrings of her petticoat. Waiting again, this was starting to get a little annoying, really. She nodded hastily, gasping out a "Poochna zaroori hai kya?", in between their languid kisses. As her petticoat fell to the floor, he laughed. "Tho nahi puchungi", he said, then swung her legs up into the air, catching ahold of them as she yelped at the suddenness of it.

The heat rose to her cheeks again as she realised his hand was against her thigh. Her very much bare thigh. Wondering if she finally resembled the tomato the family always teased her about being, she turned her face into his neck. She cradled his other cheek with her hand as she kissed up his neck, along his sharp jaw line, on his cheeks. He chuckled as he reached the bed, gently laying her down. She reached for him as he rose away, holding onto the arm closest to her. He looked up at her as she raised her hands up. "Shiva, meri blouse utaar do," she said in a clear voice. He waited a moment before nodding, slipping it off her shoulders, his fingers grazing against the skin of her arms, her forearms, the backs of her hands. He fisted it in his hands as his eyes wandered downwards, before throwing it across the room. "Shiva!", she yelled. That was one of her favorite blouses!!!

He simply kneeled on the bed beside her, watching her with an intensity he had let even her get only glimpses off before. And although she knew there was nothing to be shy about, she couldn't help but feel the overwhelming urge to cover herself up. He reached across her and placed the knuckles of one hand at the tip of her biggest toe, running it up, up, up, until he reached just below her breasts before looking up into her eyes. Hunger. This Shiva was a true junglee bhaloo, and she was his prey. This time when he kissed her, it wasn't soft or slow. It was fast and hot and more and more and more. His hands squeezed her breast firmly and, well, her underwear was ruined already. She might as well bid farewell to the black lace number.

He moved away from her lips, moving downwards, her jaw, her neck, until he stopped above her breast and gently blew against the tip. "Shiva", she gasped, her hands gathering the sheets of their bed on her fists. His hands moved to hers, freeing them before he moved a leg between hers, his thigh pressing up right there. "Aah!", she moaned wordlessly, as she clutched his back, scoring him with her nails. He chuckled at her before kissing the same tip gently, one hand moving to the waistband of her underwear, just the tips of his fingers venturing beneath. She needed more, more, more. She slid her hands up his back as he kissed the flesh of her breast, pulling his head up by the hair so he looked at her. She wet her lips, finding her voice, before, "Aur", she requested. "Aur kya, Raavi?", he asked her, a playful challenge clear in his eyes. Well, if he was Shiva Pandya, then she was Raavi Shiva Pandya, wasn't she? 

She placed her hand over his, guiding it down beneath to where she wanted him, needed him. Down, down, down, before she left his hand there, pulling her own out and moving it to his shoulder. "Aur, Shiva", she whispered. He drew her underwear off, throwing it away before running a finger along her slit, humming in satisfaction at what he found. And as he pressed her nub and she gasped for breath, she wondered if perhaps she should have been embarrassed, shying away like all those heroines she'd seen on TV and in films and used as references for as long as she remembered. He kissed her breasts in turns, nipping and sucking and licking, his fingers circling at her entrance and back up to her nub repeatedly. She bucked her hips up towards his hand as he repeated it again, and he chuckled again. And then she knew, he was Shiva, and her filmy heroes had nothing on her husband. He really was so much better. 

His finger entered her and she tensed for a moment before relaxing again, pulling him up and kissing him, running her hands over every inch of available skin. As he began to slowly pump his finger in her, Raavi's hands reached the waistband of his pants. Why, oh why was he still in his pants?, she wondered, quickly reaching for the buttons and zip, undoing them. And then her knuckles brushed against him accidentally and Shiva froze. Froze before he pulled her hand away and pinned it to the bed, leaving just one hand to anchor herself with him. He pushed another finger in her, and scissored them in her and oh god, oh god, oh god! She was flying and floating and where was she, who was she, what was she?! Shiva's lips on hers swallowing the last of her breath was all she was aware of. But as she came down from her high, she felt a hollow ache settle into the bottom of her stomach. It was most definitely better before. Or perhaps it will be after. 

She lay there boneless as Shiva moved down her torso, his lips lightly grazing her skin, pecking her over her navel, before he reached her curls and he nuzzled her. There. Taking the scent of her arousal in. And then she was burning again, wondering if this purgatory would ever end. She managed to grab onto his hair to pull him up to her. "Please Shiva. Aur intezaar mat karvao", and perhaps he understood just how much she truly needed him in that moment because he just nodded and got up to take his remaining clothes off. He turned around and Raavi felt her eyes widen almost comically as nervousness took over for a minute. Would he even fit? She'd never considered that issue before. Shiva lay down sideways beside her, draping a, hand over her middle and supporting his head with the other. "Fit ho jaayega Raavi", he said in his no nonsense voice, and she tried to believe him. "Par agar tujhe nahi karna hain tho hum abhi bhi....".She didn't let him finish, kissing him instead, one hand hesitantly reaching out for his length and wrapping around it lightly. Velvet covered steel. That's what it felt like. She pulled him above her, nodding at him, assuring him that yes, she still wanted to do this. 

He nodded before pushing into her, bit by bit in rocking motions until he broke through her barrier with one fast push. Pain, yes. But so full. He waited, still as a statue for her to adjust, and as she pushed her hips up, taking him in deeper, he began moving. Slowly and surely at first, and then after a while as she moaned and pleaded for more between breathing and pushing and pulling, it was hard and fast and sure. Her pale skin against his beautiful bronze. Cinnamon and jasmine and her and him all making her dizzy with want. She ran her hands down his back, down the curve of his ass, and pulled. He growled, one hand curving around her waist and lifting her hip and gold. He'd struck gold. And like a master miner would, Shiva knew. He struck her there again and again and again. And then his other hand smoothed her hair away from her face, "Raavi", he gasped out. "Raavi aankhen khol", and she did because anything for him. And in his eyes, so much love must be a health hazard to him.

This wasn't just beyond words. This was beyond music and dance and art and the millions of words this world had seen. His movements lost rhythm, their dance no longer needing a beat to be made sense off, and then he came and it was warm inside and his weight on her grounding her. Pulling her back into the land of mortals. They lay there in silence for a moment, just catching their breath, before he pulled out and oh well, the sheets needed to probably go as well. 

A couple minutes later, once she'd started to become conscious of things other than his skin against hers, like sweat and stickiness, she whispered hoarsely, "Shiva, mujhe nahana hain". He groaned against her neck before nodding and getting up, lifting her off of the bed and carrying her to the ,thankfully, attached bathroom. He set her down, pecking her forehead before leaving, closing the door after him. When she walked out in a towel after a quarter hour, the sheets had been changed and he was waiting for her to come out with a towel wrapped around his waist. He walked in, leaving her to survey their room. Their clothes were strewn about haphazardly, the old sheets lying in a bundle in a corner. She blushed, walking towards their almari, figuring she'd clear things up first thing in the morning. She opened the almari, only for one of his shirts to fall out. It was one of her favorites on him, red checked cotton, soft and worn and smelling of him. What was his was hers, wasn't it? She pulled it on quickly, grabbing just a pair of clean underwear before she got under the sheets. A couple minutes later, Shiva joined her in bed, no vest, just tracks, and pulled her on top of him to cuddle. She let him do it. 

Later though, she would just blame it on the fact that it was cold, she was mostly naked, and he was a veritable furnace. 

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The next morning

Shiva had gotten up ages ago. He had gotten up ages ago and done nothing particularly important in the eyes of the world. If only the world knew what a fascinating creature his wife was. Or if they paid him to stare at her? He would be the richest man ever, pfft the Ambanis. Shy and nervous and dobi creature that she was when it came to the physical aspect of their relationship, she held an allure unmatched by none in his eyes. He had known deep down, that one kiss and he would be gone. He wouldn't have been able to stop. So he had waited despite her cute dobi hints at wanting to move forward with him. Until she was sure that she wanted everything. But the tattoo had been a, surprise, to put it lightly. He felt another thrill of possessiveness run through him at the thought that she had willingly marked herself as his. 

Her eyelashes fluttered softly and he held his breath. She was as beautiful as every other day, but there seemed to be something more to her today. Her cheeks rosier, lips more plump, skin and hair glowing, a calmness in her eyes. A calmness in her eyes? She was awake. Awake and staring at him. "Good morning", he murmured, his voice slightly husky after the good night's sleep. She smiled widely, and the sun finally rose in his sky. "Good morning", she murmured back, voice hoarse and practically gone. A smug satisfaction settled in his stomach, and it must have shown on his face, because she muttered a quick "Shuru bhi mat karna", before shifting, settling less against his side and more on him. Her shirt, his shirt, shifted slightly to reveal one shoulder. One shoulder and a number of red marks. What was it she had said last night? 

Par main kaafi dinon se ready hoon, aur tu tho kuch karne se raha. His wife, his dobi wife, had no idea what was coming for her. There was more than one way to paint someone yours. Her Maasi had always called him a raakshas, hadn't she? Raavi was too Raavi to be a monster with, but he was sure he could do the kiss monster. And if Maami suffered from a heart attack? All the better for him he thought, as he started off again, darkening yesterday's marks as she laughingly complained. 

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Note: This was my first mature work! And it's a wrap on this TS people....