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Agastya shut his eyes, his neck and shoulders fraught with tension. “Yes.”
Veda’s slim hand slid up his chest and wrapped around the back of his neck. She rose on tiptoe, her lips resting near his ear.
“And now you have me,” she whispered, her breath fluttering over his skin. “What are you going to do about it, Agastya Kodela?
Twenty
VEDA
Agastya stood motionless, his gaze burning through her as she stepped infinitesimally closer, her body brushing against his, the skirts of her bridal lehenga curling around his legs and falling away.
“Veda…”
“Yes?” She turned her face, kissing his cheek, a gentle caress.
Agastya’s eyes fluttered shut, a vein pulsing in his forehead as he clenched his jaw. She thought she could hear it crack.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“No?” she asked. “The Great Agastya Kodela doesn’t want to fuck his bride on their wedding night?”
His eyes flew open, anger darkening them. Oh, he was angry? She was angry too. He’d treated her like a dispensable appendage today. On their fucking wedding day. And he thought that he was going to placate her with a meal?
Fuck that, she thought, her own temper blazing through. Fuck him!
Agastya’s hand snaked round her waist bringing her up against him. “Do. Not. Talk. About. Us. Like. That.”
“Or what?” she taunted, moving her hips a little, rubbing up against the hard length of him, another little taunt.
“Veda.” The warning in his voice held a delicious edge that sent a forbidden thrill through her.
“Agastya,” she mocked, slipping a hand between them and gripping the length of him through his pant. “What are you going to do about it?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw as he stared down at her. “Don’t push me.”
Veda licked her lips, watching his eyes flick to the movement. With one hand, she unbuckled his belt, opened his pant button and slid the zip down. The metallic sound echoed in the room as they stared at each other. Veda held his gaze, watching it darken dangerously as she slid her hand into the front of his pant, the back of it grazing the heated flesh of his waist before going lower.
“Consider yourself pushed,” she whispered, her hand gripped the silken velvet of him, the burning heat of his skin branding itself into her palm.
His mouth came crashing down on hers, his arms banding around her. Teeth clashing, breath coming in short, ragged bursts, they fumbled at each other, desperate movements that did nothing but inflame them further.
Agastya pushed her up against the closed french doors, his hands tangling in her intricate bun and dislodging it. Her hair fell in waves around her shoulders. He buried his face in its fragrant mass, breathing deeply, his big body bowing around hers.
Veda kissed her way down his neck, her mouth worshipping the tightly corded muscles. She pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Agastya tugged at the strings of her choli, loosening them. His nimble fingers found the tiny hooks and unhooked them with a dexterity that amazed her. And then her blouse with its attached innerwear fell away from her, and she stood there, topless, bared to his gaze.
She watched him watch her. This Agastya, with his hair falling over his forehead, his chest heaving under the beautifully tailored shirt, his hard length pushing against the unzipped front of his pant, fingers betraying the faintest tremor…this Agastya was an Agastya no one else got to see. This Agastya was hers, only hers.
Awe mingled with a sense of power as she saw him take a shaky breath. His large, brown hand came up to cup her breast, sensation zinging through her. She moaned as his mouth closed over one nipple, his tongue teasing it even as his other moved to mould the other one, lavishing attention on it.
A feral groan escaped Agastya, the sound making her shiver. She cupped his face tilting him up to look at her.
“I want you.” She smoothed the hair out of his eyes. “Now.”
He straightened, the hand around her waist turning her in one smooth motion until she was facing the glass doors. He pressed her up against it, the cold slide of the glass against her hot flesh making her gasp, the contrast unbearably arousing. He placed her hands, palms out on either side of her, holding them down, a silent message not to move them from there. Veda obeyed.
Fabric rustled as he gathered her heavy skirts in one hand and lifted them. Cool, air-conditioned air wafted over her exposed bottom. One rough hand grasped her underwear sliding it down her legs. Veda closed her eyes, allowing her other heightened senses to take over. She heard the crinkle of foil and then she felt his palm on her hip, holding her steady. One finger slipped through her folds finding her wet and ready for him.
One hand on her hip and the other on her shoulder, he positioned himself behind her, the blunt tip of his manhood probing at her.
