Pallavi felt her face inflame into an inferno yet a shy smile spread her pink lips till the light hit her beautiful grey brown eyes. She felt his muscles moving and flexing powerfully and his heart beat a soothing tattoo against her soft cheek. She looked up from where she was nestled in his chest to observe his sharply carved features.

She saw him look down as if feeling her unabashed scrutiny and the blinding smile which she got as a reward made him look so heart warming-ly handsome that it almost unbalanced her. She felt his fingers trace her bare skin on a purplish mark he had left on her waist.

Prior activities passed through her brain like a kaleidoscope of memories in a pleasure filled daze which made something ache strongly in the cradle of her hips. Pallavi chided herself mentally. She had started to become such a wanton woman from the past few months. But in retrospect who could fault her when a man like him looked at her like that - all the bloody time. Like she was some exquisite desert and he had been left starving for days.

But not that she could fault him as well, she took her retribution in equal measure. He had to go on buttoning up his shirt at the collar most of the days. Not that he had any shame but the teasing and knowing looks they have been receiving from the staff had started to become unbearable. But as she had told her husband it wasn't her fault.

She had recently discovered and that also taught by him, that the art of making love included not only giving and receiving pleasure but also one of power play.

Raghav Rao was a power addict. That was no secret. He loved playing situations in his favour and making people dance to his tune. He was the king in his business and he left no stone unturned to make people aware of that fact. But a powerful man seated too long at the throne tends to get bored of the unquestioned authority he wields soon enough, if there is no suitable rival to counter his moves. And in her, as he had revealed he had found that. A suitable rival, a woman who would for the lack of a better word will take no sh*t from him.

That was probably one of the primary reasons which had attracted him to her. But unfortunately or fortunately (in whichever way you deem to see the situation) though he had seen her measure up to his each blow he had been seemingly confident about his supremacy in their bed and in turn in their lovemaking. In retrospect Raghav really shouldn't have underestimated her. Agreed that she was hopelessly naïve initially but as he had later found out, much to his delight and dismay both - Pallavi was a rather quick study. She had gone from being a blushing, stuttering and needy mess to a hungry lioness within a night or two.

So what had been his undefeated battleground at one point in his marriage ( cause lets face it, he usually lost in all the other spheres from her) became a fight for dominance and control over the sweaty sheets. And to his slight embarrassment he had discovered that he did like losing to her in this game, more often than not. Though that didn't mean he would admit his defeat. He liked claiming that he indulged her and she knew a little ego stroking wouldn't hurt. He is a man after all.

Raghav was physically much stronger than her. Though he never appeared as stocky and used brute force on her but he was rather like a feline beast, all lean and wiry rippled with muscle and surprisingly agile and quick. She had to catch him first long enough to extend her control and had to make sure he didn't get to her nerves before that. If he got to play with her for too long then she would lose control and her senses and become putty in his hands. But now that she was well versed in his tricks having been on the receiving end several times she knew exactly what to do to undo him.

She would flip him around to straddle his hips tightly between her legs and enjoy the pleasantly bemused look on his handsome face. But she would not give him the pleasure of catching her swollen lips first and descended to brand him slowly from neck down. He would grip her hips and squeeze them fondly trying hard not to moan or make any other noise which could betray his acquiescence but she knew it very well by the desperate motions of his hands on her. He would try to move her to gain the upper hand but she would use her tongue and her little sharp teeth next and he usually gave up when she reached his abs.

But what Pallavi loved the most was what followed next. She would hold his hips and see his molten irises blow wide apart in shock and want and she would lick between his legs. She would dig her nails into his hips refraining him from squirming which he would helplessly and she would explore each and every nook and cranny of him taking her own sweet time driving her husband half mad with want. Its not that he couldn't flip her back as if she weighed nothing. He could with a single move. But usually he couldn't even think straight at this point let alone doing anything.

He would usually try to play it off with swears but then he just wouldn't be able to hold back the husky moans and desperate groans arching under her like a big cat, which turned her wetter with each second.

She would wait till he is reduced to a state where he kind of forgets who he is and starts pleading. And at the moment Pallavi Rao feels invincible. She feels like she is a goddess and like none could ever refute her and feels an explosion of pride which almost feels like arrogance as she manages to make the most dangerous man in Hyderabad beg and whimper for her, a glorious mess at her mercy. But it is usually followed by a sweet ache in her chest which tends to blow her heart two sizes bigger when she is humbled by the power she holds over such a powerful man. And that he is hers, heart, body, mind and soul, that good old her could conquer him ends up, her giving him what he wants almost immediately.

And then she would surrender to his swift retribution as he takes her to every peak of pleasure known to man and makes her fall into an unfathomable depth of ecstasy riding it with her all the way. Their furious coupling is followed by what feels like hours of silence and tired smooches and soft declarations of the love which is abundantly present in his eyes and her smiles.

She feels him press his lips on her forehead and instinctively closes her eyes. She turns around and drapes her naked body lazily over him tucking her head neatly beneath his chin and yawns. She feels him rumble with restrained mirth and his arms go round her bare back and she hikes a leg around his thigh like she is side hugging a pillow which isn't much farther from the truth because he is in fact her personal pillow.

"Good night my picchi ammayi... dream about me."

She grins tiredly, her eyes still closed and kisses his chest, directly above his heart as he nuzzles her head with his nose lovingly.

"Good night my veda manus.... don't tire me out next time and I might."

She falls asleep smiling against his skin hearing his deep chuckles and the last thought swirling in her foggy sleep hazed brain being that she has indeed mastered the art of making love.