The Unwholesome Adventures of Harita Page 2

  He stepped closer, his eyes sparkling and his words coming fast, almost tripping over themselves. “I want you to trust me, hand over your body and your pleasure entirely to me. Believe that I will make you happy and keep you satisfied.”

  “But of course I will trust you, we are married.”

  He shook his head, and a lock of his dark hair fell forwards. “What I am asking for is so much more than that. Perhaps I should have waited before I brought up the subject of domination, but part of me finds it so sexy, such a turn-on, that to think it could be like that for us right from the first time… It is the most exciting thing I can think of.”

  Domination.

  Suddenly my pussy tightened like a clamp, and my panties became so wet I felt sure my juice would actually run down my leg. Domination scenes were my very favourite to dream up when it came to Harita. I adored her being ordered about, forced to surrender to Madan’s desires and allowing him to take her whenever and wherever he wanted. Sometimes I had her tied up and spanked until she came. On other occasions she would be teased until she begged for release. Yes, domination and submission was an obsession when it came to my writing. It was the basis for my characters’ relationship, and now, here on my wedding night, my new husband was suggesting that very thing. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

  “Well, you haven’t refused, so I am guessing that’s a good thing.” He smiled, almost shyly.

  “Damon.” I reached for his hand, feeling bold in the move to touch him first. “I, as you said, am a modern girl. I wish to please you, and I also have an idea of what will please me, even though tonight will be my first time.”

  He inclined his head in acknowledgement of my final statement.

  I went on, “If you want me to obey you in our marital bed, then that’s what will happen, and I have a feeling I will like it. Very much.”

  “Siyàra,” he said. His anxious eyes had softened. “Your eagerness to obey me is sweet, but do you truly understand what I’m asking of you?”

  I nodded and pressed up close to him. “Yes, I understand the word obey very well.” His hard pectoral muscles pressed just above my breasts, and his sweet breath breezed over my face. “I understand that I will obey without question when you order me into position and do what you want with my body.” I lowered my voice and was surprised by how husky and deep it came out. “I will obey even when you tie me up and tease me, spank my bottom and order me not to find release until you give me permission. I will also obey when you order me to put your manhood in my mouth, suck it until you can take no more and your sticky seed floods my throat. Then, if you order me to swallow, I will swallow, every…last…drop.”

  His eyes widened, and his jaw clenched. “You have no idea what those dirty words coming out of your sweet mouth have just done to me.” His voice was strained and breathless.

  I grinned and slipped a hand into the small of his back, tightening our bodies together. “I think I do,” I whispered, delighting in the hard evidence of his arousal butting into my stomach.

  He groaned and lowered his head, his lips a hair’s breadth from mine.

  “I think, Damon, as our parents said, we are indeed a match made in heaven.” I grinned wickedly. “Though they probably never took this into account.” Initiating our first kiss, I touched my lips to his, softly and sweetly, understanding that beneath Damon’s smooth, civilised veneer there was a raw and primitive passion waiting to be unleashed. And I wanted it, I wanted it all. Now.

  Chapter Two

  “So you completely understand that in the bedroom I am the one in control,” Damon said, suddenly stepping away and gripping the base of his kafni.

  I nodded.

  “But if at any time you wish the arrangement to change, it will, but you must use the word Murshidabad so I know you’re serious about stopping.”

  “Why Murshidabad?”

  “I visited there once. The silk they produce is as soft and delicate as your skin, Siyàra.”

  I smiled at the compliment and slipped my sari from my head, letting the smooth material fall down my back like a hood. “Damon,” I said softly. “Let us not talk of it ending before it has begun.”

  His jaw tensed, and he pulled his kafni up and over his head, exposing a broad chest sprinkled with a dark layer of hair. His nipples were small and erect and the hair swirled down his sternum. When it reached his flat belly and the indent of his naval, it thickened once more and feathered outwards before disappearing into the waistband of his ceremonial pijamo.

  I licked my lips, my mouth already watering to taste him. I removed the gold bangles from my wrists and laid them on the table. The sound of metal on wood was loud in the room which otherwise held only the ragged sounds of our breathing.

  He watched me closely as I unhooked the delicate link attaching the gold chain hanging between my earring and new nose ring. I laid it next to my bracelets, pulled in a deep, fortifying breath and hoped nerves wouldn’t get in the way of the pleasure I’d been dreaming of for so long.

  “What do you wish me to do now?” I asked quietly.

  He tipped his head, studying my face. “I want you to go willingly into the bedroom, knowing all that it means.”

  I nodded. “I am happy to go, and very willingly.”

  He turned, and I followed on legs that didn’t quite feel like my own. Our bedroom, like all the rooms in the house, was on the ground floor, so within seconds we stood before a door frame that was going to hold more significance than I ever would have believed possible.

  Inside, I knew the room to be very nicely decorated. My mother-in-law had shown me, my mother and my two sisters around my new home two weeks previously. There was a large bed, draped in burgundy covers with a sequin trim, which had a slatted headboard made of highly polished, dark wood. The walls were a mixture of fuchsia and purple, and the window had lavish, gold-threaded curtains embroidered with peacocks. There was a table for my jewels and makeup and next to it a wide, full-length mirror embossed around the edge with tiny carvings of dancing elephants. I was pleased with the room, it had a seductive, sexy feel to it, and as I’d been shown around, I couldn’t help but get turned on as I’d looked at the bed and imagined the stack of silk cushions and bolsters being tossed aside in our passion, landing in a tousled heap on the floor as we tore at each other’s clothes and wound our naked limbs together, panting and desperate to complete our consummation.

  “Kamini,” Damon said, holding the handle. “I love you.”

  “And I love you.” It was what we were expected to say to one another on our wedding night, though of course it might be many months before we truly loved each other, knew enough of the other’s heart to confess never-ending love. But if the feeling in my chest was just the seed of what I suspected would grow for Damon, then already it was healthy and strong and glowing like the brightest star in the sky.

  He opened the door. The room was dimly lit by a seductive, ruby glow.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked.

  I glanced at the thin, brass bar separating the tiled hallway from the thick-pile carpet of the bedroom. Once I stepped over it, I would be at his mercy, at his command, it was what I’d agreed to. Anything he wanted of me he could take without my permission, without my consent. The thought was so thrilling, so unexpected and wicked, that I had to give my arm a pinch to make sure I wasn’t having another one of my erotic dreams.

  “Kamini,” he said again, a worried frown marring his usually smooth forehead.

  “I am yours.” I stepped onto the deep carpet, and it curled around my toes. “And I will obey.”

  His eyes flashed. The muscle in his cheek flexed and unflexed. “Siyàra, you will not regret this.” A devilish tilt tugged the right side of his mouth upwards.

  I stepped farther into the warm room. Fresh flowers, red and white, had been placed next to the bed, and the scent of incense, cassia and aloes wood filled the air.

  The door shut behind me with a quiet clic
k.

  “Go and stand by the mirror,” Damon ordered, his voice firmer than when we’d been outside the room.

  An excited shiver snaked up my spine, and my pussy clenched around the balls. His commanding tone was deep and distinct and held an air of authority—he expected his wish to be complied with, there was no mistaking that.

  Stepping obediently up to the mirror, I stared at my own reflection. There was a rise of colour on my cheeks, but the kohl around my eyes was still in place and the scarlet lipstick I wore was lustrous and un-smudged. Damon’s face appeared over my shoulder. He took a lock of my shiny hair between two fingers and smoothed it down to the end that curled just at the level of my breast. As he smoothed his knuckles over the silk, my nipple tightened, protruding against the cup of my bra.

  I gasped. My breath hitched, and my chest expanded.

  “Mmm, you are indeed a very sexual woman, just as I suspected on our first meeting,” he murmured. “Which is just as well since you are now going to have to deliver what your sweet, dirty mouth talked about in the kitchen, but…” His gaze harnessed mine, and his thick brows pulled low. “Just so we are clear, you will never, ever, use words like that again outside of the bedroom.” He caught my chin and lifted it upwards. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Damon, I understand.”

  “Sir. In here you will only call me Sir. Once you step through this door, I am your master, you are here to please me.”

  The change in his polite, restrained demeanour was startling and thrilled me all the more.

  “Yes, Sir, yes, I understand.” An image of Harita, handcuffed to the bed and being thrashed with a crop sprang to mind. She always called Madan Sir when he was dominating her. Even when he had her in tears, begging for it to stop, she still called him Sir. That scene had hit my column three months ago and received delighted responses from fans.

  “Good, now turn around.”

  I turned and rested my back against the cool glass of the mirror.

  “Do you remember your words?”

  I nodded.

  “So put them into action.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and applied pressure—enough pressure to make my knees fold and my back slide downwards until I was face level with his groin. The metal balls inside me shifted, and I gripped them tight, wishing I could get more stimulation from them, enough to tip me into the climax that had been hovering all day.

  “Unzip me,” he growled. “Take my lavDa into your sweet mouth. Don’t stop sucking until I tell you to.”

  I risked a glance up as he leant forwards and placed his palms on the mirror above my head. His tense face had a pained, desperate look to it as he stared down at me. “Suck it, make love to it until I tell you to stop.”

  I tugged down at the waistband of his pijamo, and he groaned as his cock, thick and erect, was released. My mouth watered as I looked at the heavily veined shaft and the smooth, mushroomed head. He had a wide slit, which was a darker rose colour than the flesh around it, and a tiny, silvery drop sat at the centre.

  He was much bigger than I’d ever imagined he would be.

  “Your hands, quickly,” he said in a strained voice. “Or you will be punished for disobeying me.”

  Immediately I curled my fingers around the hot stalk, delighting in the satin-soft skin covering a rod as hard as marble. I pulled upwards and felt it bob, smoothed over the head, dipped my fingertip into the slit and spread the warm globule of viscous fluid around and back down the shaft.

  “Ahh, yes, yes,” he panted. “That is good, but remember your words, you will take me into your mouth. Open up, Siyàra.”

  I stretched my mouth wide. On some very basic level I knew that after doing this I would never be the same again. Taking Damon into my mouth, an act that was so rude and submissive, would change something between us. It would make my mouth his, an orifice he would use to take his pleasure whenever we were in this room and the mood took him.

  He wasted no time in jerking his hips forwards, and his crown entered my mouth fast. The taste of citrus and bergamot laced my tongue, but now there was also a deep, musky essence. The flavour of man with heated desire and virility mixed in. It was sumptuous, and I was greedy for more.

  Smoothing a hand around his hip, I gripped his tense bum cheek, urged him to press farther into me.

  He needed little encouragement and thrust all the way to the back of my throat. “Kamini, yes, that’s it, take me, take all of me.” He began to pump in and out, fucking my mouth in a rapid, needy rhythm. His balls slapped against my chin, and the wiry, black hair that surrounded his cock tickled my nose.

  Dragging in short, sharp gasps of air, I sucked him in farther, wrapping my tongue around his thick shaft and caressing it, laving at the bulging veins. My pussy was quivering, holding the tormenting balls in place despite my squatted position.

  Damon was unleashing his desires, and I sensed his civility was a distant memory. This was all about his satisfaction, taking what he wanted, needed, from me, his wife. His carnal abandon was a total turn-on, and, if I hadn’t been using my hands to pleasure him, I knew that one quick flick across my clit would have given me a longed for orgasm.

  Suddenly his pace picked up. He tangled his hand in my hair, holding my head firm and in position. Drips of salty fluid coated my tongue, and I gave a whimper of anticipation at what was to come.

  “Swallow me, swallow all of me, everything I’ve been saving up for you,” he snarled, tightening his fingers and pulling the roots at my nape.

  So turned on I thought I might combust, I stretched my mouth wider and took him right to the base of his shaft. As the head of his cock lodged in my throat I swallowed, tugging at the skin on his crown with deep, gulping movements.

  He cried out, and the jerking of his hips became erratic, jolting into my mouth fast then slow. His cock swelled. Then it was there, hot spurts of semen shooting into my mouth and down my throat.

  Swallowing rapidly and barely able to concentrate on the essence bombarding my taste buds, I heard him shout a string of curses and praises. My jaw ached, my head was dizzy from hardly being able to breathe, but still I sucked and caressed him, drawing every last seed as I’d promised I would.

  Damon had taken me roughly, dominated me, used me as his method of sexual relief without any thought to mine. I was both thrilled and shocked at our first sexual encounter and by the fact he’d clearly enjoyed it. But I’d been right, there was no going back. Damon had unlocked something in me that had been lurking, captive, for too many years, its only release Harita’s unwholesome adventures. And now, now it was about to be set free in real life, not just harnessed in my imagination. For reality, as Damon had just proven, was so much more fun than a life lived inside a fictitious world.

  Eventually, when Damon’s cock had softened and his breathing recovered, he pulled out and stepped away from the mirror, kicking off his pijamo now bunched at his ankles. “Get up,” he said, sternly. “Get up, take off your clothes and lie on the bed.”

  Clenching the love balls, I stood and began to undress. I risked a glance at him and let my sari fall away. His eyes flashed with approval as he looked, for the first time, at my slender curves.

  I lay on the bed, my back dipping into the soft mattress, my white underwear stark against the deep burgundy covers. All my senses were heightened, my nipples tight and my mouth stretched. What I needed most was an orgasm. My pussy was crying out for it. If he didn’t give me stimulation soon, I would go crazy. The balls had been a double-edged sword, they’d had me hovering and aroused all day but hadn’t actually tipped me over the edge. When I was alone at home, in bed late at night, I was very efficient at drawing swift orgasms from my clit. My fingers knew the exact pressure, the perfect speed of rotations.

  If only he would do that for me now.

  He sat, gloriously naked, on the bed next to me. “Take off your bra.”

  I flicked the clasp at the front and did as he asked.

  His eyes widened and
he licked his lips, coating them in soft, glistening moisture. “You are exquisite,” he murmured, dipping his head and touching the tip of his tongue to my right nipple.

  It hardened almost to the point of pain. “Oh, yes, yes, Damon…”

  He jerked his neck up and pulled his brows low.

  “I mean Sir, yes, yes, Sir, please. That feels so good.”

  “I’m not doing it for your pleasure, I am doing it because I want to. You are mine.”

  I felt suitably scolded and slipped back into role. “Yes, Sir, I am yours, please, do to me whatever you want.”

  He grinned, and his face softened. Next thing I knew, his entire mouth surrounded my nipple and he was feeding the flesh of my breast in deeper with his hand. I arched my back at the extreme pleasure, and my breath froze in my chest. He’d barely kissed my lips, and here he was suckling on my breast. It felt amazing, hot and wet, tight and sexy.

  “Ah, your skin is like honey,” he whispered, pressing his weight over me.

  I murmured encouragement and ran my hands through his silken hair. He switched breasts and the other was treated to the same, luscious caress.

  Just as I thought I would climax from the stimulation of his tongue alone on my nipples, he kissed his way down my belly.

  “Lose these,” he said, touching the elastic at the waist of my panties. “I want you as naked as the day you were born. You cannot hide any part of yourself from me, Siyàra.”

  I was so beyond feeling embarrassed about being naked in front of a man that the notion was like some distant galaxy in the universe, the light so far away its distance was inconceivable. Panting, I wriggled from panties so carefully chosen for the day and kicked them aside, instantly forgotten.

  Damon smiled and rubbed his chin, studying my dark, feminine hair as if considering the situation. “Now if I was a gambling man, which I’m not, I would bet that you knew exactly what the gift I sent last night was for.” He looked at me expectantly.