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Newly-weds.

20

Pavia.
Two weeks into marriage.
...

"Jasmine, where are we? I'm getting really impatient," Armaan growled as he sat next to her in the car, blindfolded and frustrated.

It was night and the moon shone down on them, entrancing in its beauty. "Almost there," she said as she increased the speed of her Ferrari. "Just a few more minutes."

"That's what you said an hour ago."

She smiled and her eyes softened as they reached their destination. Killing the engine, she leaned over to remove his blindfold. "Voila."

His smile disappeared as he looked at the house rising majestically in front of them.

"Fuck, no," he whispered and turned to her with a puzzled expression. "You're Emily Weiss?" he questioned in shock.

She nodded. She had bought the house from him under a fake name two days ago. Of course, he had given all the money away to charity but she owned the property now so he could not do anything about it. "It's our home, Armaan," she told him when he still would not stop looking shocked. "It would have been a shame to let someone else live in it after all the love you put into building it. Consider it my wedding gift to you."

He gave her an affectionate look and sighed. "Have I told you lately how crazy I am about you?" he asked huskily and pulled her in for a kiss.

It had taken several days for her ankle to heal and during those days, he had taken such good care of her that her heart had all but melted. She hadn't deserved any of it but for someone like Armaan, Jasmine felt like she could try and be a better person. Try to make him happy for loving her so much even if she herself felt as though she had lost the ability to trust or get close to anyone emotionally after Hamza had broken her heart for the second time and never even looked back to make sure if she was all right.

The pain never left her completely but whenever she looked at Armaan's hopeful face, she tried to laugh it away. At the very least, she could offer this guy her friendship and do her best not to hurt him. As long as he did not expect too much from her, they would be fine.

~~~~

One month into marriage.
...

Armaan's fingers stopped sketching a sexy picture of himself making love to his wife and traced a lazy path along the length of her thigh as she tapped on the keyboard, fierce concentration lining her beautiful face. She paused when he retraced the path back down towards the hem of her tiny shorts where she lay on a sun lounger with propped up knees, balancing her laptop on her tummy.

He loved to draw erotic sketches of them and at first, he had kept it hidden from her but she'd discovered the sketch pad in his drawer one day in the library and had been thrilled to see what his dirty imagination could conjure up. Now, it had made him horny. Hence, the touching.

Wetting her soft crimson lips, Jasmine cleared her throat delicately before resuming her typing. Slowly, he allowed his palm to grip her inner thigh with the slightest application of pressure. He watched her fingers halt in their furious flying over the keyboard and smirked.

"I hope I'm not distracting you," he murmured, admiring the way her thick lashes hid her dark eyes from him.

She took a moment to glance up at him, looking like she had just realised that he was there, lying next to her.

"What?" Her tone was puzzled. Innocent. But Armaan knew better. He knew her.

"My touching, I mean," he elaborated, his hand still resting on her thigh. "I hope it isn't affecting your focus."