Sumanika ~ The Prince's Widowed Bride

85 ~ Intense Pleasure

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Suman POV

I placed my bangle-filled hand over my core with shame, but he gently moved it away and brushed my inner thighs with his fingers.

I felt like a butterfly, shrinking into a cocoon at that moment.

"I have seen you before, love," he muttered slowly, drawing lines over my thighs. "You are beautiful,"

I bit the inside of my lips silently as he shifted in between my legs and pushed my knees closer to my chest to place my henna and Mahavir-inked feet on his chest.

Leaning in closer, he began to kiss my ankles, tickling my anklet bells.

I felt insanely timid with the placement of my feet. He closed his eyes, and I gently pulled my feet back from his chest and stretched my legs long, hooking them around his right side's waist's curve.

He smiled a little and placed his hands on my midriff.

"You are so beautiful in all this gold," he muttered slowly, caressing my belly gently, brushing his fingers featherly.

I gulped and stretched my stomach when he held my waist's side with his hand and pulled me closer to him.

I found it very explicit.

"Are you ready? Love," he asked slowly while massaging my breast a little. I fisted my hands on either side of the bed sheet and nodded.

"Umm-hmm," I hummed, and he slowly pulled his kurta off, and I looked at his muscular body, looking even more dangerous now. His biceps puffed up when he lifted his hands to move it through his head.

My breath hitched, and I trembled weakly before him. A slight smirk appeared on his face, watching me, and I blinked nervously.

He forwarded his hands to ask for mine, and as I moved my hands off the bed sheet to place into his palms, the noise of my bangles clicking together pierced the air, thickening with the unspoken tension between us.

He opened my fists and gently placed my hands on his midriff. Coming into his skin's contact, I felt an ease in myself.

My breath calmed down as he glided my fingers over his abs. I looked at our connected henna-inked hands, reminding me he was my husband. And, as much as it was his responsibility to please me, it was mine to please him.

I gulped silently and lifted myself a little, pulling my hands back from his to support my weight.

He knitted his brows with confusion, and a beautiful, sweet smile appeared on his face when I wrapped my arm around his neck and gently pulled him closer. I could feel my hand tremble with the move.

I was feeling nervous. Pulling him closer to hover over me, I cupped his cheek and neck, careful enough not to make him smell my henna and pressed my lips against his forehead.

"I love you, too, Kunwarsa," I managed to say, and he inhaled a deep breath, pressing his lips against my lips.

"Say that again," he muttered into my mouth.

He quickly moved back to grab my leg and part them before settling him between and pressing his lips to mine again.

"Humne kaha ki hum bhi apse bahut prem karte hai,"

"I said that I love you a lot, too," I whispered in his mouth, and I pushed my toes inside the bed sheet, pulling my knees high when I felt his bulge against my middle body.