Meow's Shivi OS/TS Book

Journey To The Centre Of My Earth - part 2

Warning: The first half includes 18+ portions, details but nothing kinky. It will be marked by **** at the beginning and end. Do skip it if you're not comfortable with reading such content. There's fluff before, and even between the **** though. Lots of fluff. 

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Two weeks later.... 

Shiva sighed as he tucked Raavi's hair behind her ear again. It kept blocking his view of her face, despite the fact that she was sitting in the vee of his legs. "Shiva!", she muttered when he quickly snuck his hands beneath her dupatta and against her bare midriff, just as she shifted closer to his chest, curling up a bit more. "Kya?! Thand lag raha hain...", he replied, taking care to not break the silence around them. She continued reading without bothering to reply, and he continued to stare at her.

He hadn't known, really. 

That she loved books so much. No wonder that Maami had always made such a fuss about Raavi being so much more educated than him. But, clearly, Maami hadn't known exactly what her laadli had been reading. Or she would've forced Raavi into a Bachelor's in Literature instead of the B. Com she'd taken up to impress his family. And farther away from him. Bholenath might have given them a path full of twists and turns on their way to each other, but he'd still given them a path. 

He looked around the room, their room. Her parents old bedroom. The broad set of wooden doors leading out to the patio wide open, diyas set along the bottom of the railing outside and by the doors themselves with betel leaves under them to keep the wood from staining. A huge floor to ceiling bookshelf along one wall, filled with books. Novels in both Hindi and English, Classics, dictionaries, encyclopedias, her papa's textbooks from business school.... And the Queen size against the wall opposite it, large enough that they weren't uncomfortable with his tendency to sprawl all over, but small enough that there wasn't a moment in the night when they weren't touching each other.

They were sat on the diwan on the floor, between the door leading to the Hall and the bookshelves. Close enough to the cold wood of the floor that she could never object to the way he had wrapped himself all around her.... Well, he did need her for warmth. Just not for the physical concept of it. She needed that more than him, though she wouldn't ever accept it. 

In the light from the amber lamp beside them and the multiple diyas she'd lit around the room, with the sound of waves crashing against the beach nearby and the distant toll of temple bells, Shiva continued to watch her. His Raavi. His wife. And all of a sudden, it wasn't enough to watch. It was Diwali. And if his shechu, fake green Diwali celebrating wife wouldn't let him burst actual crackers, then he'd just have to find a way around it to his much beloved pataka moments... 

He looked over her shoulder at her book, making a note of the page number so that she couldn't grouch about having lost her place. As he gently blew into her ear, he was reminded of the morning after their first time.... Of how she'd been so sore she had had to keep shifting around uncomfortably, and the guilt of having caused her pain despite having tried being gentle hadn't let him touch her in peace until she said that it was, in her own words, "less pain and more of a satisfied soreness that comes with sudden yet fruitful exercise, gadheda!"

Now, he felt her breath catch on its way in before she let it out. Not a single change in her face. Well, they were going to play it that way, were they? He let the hands he'd settled on her midriff pull away slowly, hovering instead, and he let just his fingertips touch her skin. And then he moved them. In a barely there touch that he'd learnt by now would raise goosebumps on her skin yet leave her wanting for more. Her breath hitched audibly this time, her belly tightening under his hands and he had to hold in a chuckle.