Guilty Pleasures

13

"Lust is a lovely word that makes love so much more interesting..."

The following evening, Raghav after another hectic day found himself outside of the cursed Sari shop. He rolled his eyes at it. Somehow this shop, his shop he corrected had become a bad omen in his life and it was all because of her, because of where she stood in his life and what she stood for.

He pushed his feet forward, despite the weight on his heart, and his mind screaming at him to stop seeking her out.

He was a man of victory, and defeat was no longer spelt in his cards the way it was before he succeeded such riches in life.

He was a man of calibre, a man of worth and he only affiliated himself with the best in life.

And yet here he was, stalking towards a middle-class sari shop, that the child of his past had now outgrown.

A sigh escaped his lips, his steps falling short as he watched her, a soft smile playing on the  corner of her face; the rays omitted from the setting sun, encapsulated on her form giving her this almost ethereal aura.

He watched as she stood on top of a wooden ladder, her body fully pressed against it, whilst her waist lay exposed to the beast inside him.

He watched her almost entranced as she sought through a stack of fabric placing them in order before forcing them into the wooden shelves littered around the shop, giving me a clearer view of the waist her pallu would usually caress and cover.

His eyes momentarily turned away from her, searching, finding that like on most occasions she was once again alone.

A breath escaped his lips this time, watching her feminine form work endlessly. He could already read it in her posture, the clear tiredness, and he wanted nothing more to whisk her away from this hell and seat her on a throne next to his own. She was made for something much better than this and he knew that. He could see that.

Her benevolence towards all was her biggest strength, the same caring qualities that he found himself receiving on many occasions despite not being worth it, was what he found himself enthralled by. He was beguiled by her heart. The pureness of it despite the clear storm that clouded her Crystal like eyes.

She in his mind, was heaven on earth, that the devil in him had become prone to tasting every night, drinking her like she was the holy water he needed to quench his own thirst for love, his ever ready desire equally.

Only she could do that.

Any other woman, now paled in front of her, and he knew it spelt doom. He manoeuvred himself expertly, his eyes dancing back over her form, watching the way her breasts seemed to squeeze into the gap above her, the way her straight hair was pulled up into a messy bun at the base of her neck that he had spent many nights marking.

His sharp eyes, could faintly make out his healing mark, a smirk playing on his face, before his eyes travelled further down her, focusing on her milky white back, two threads pulled at the centre of it.

A sudden jealousy awoke in him, watching the way it caressed her back, a want, no a need he corrected manifested to touch her.

He forced his eyes away, a blush quoting his cheeks in a soft almost non-existent way, but he knew. He could feel the heat under his collar, a silent curse slipping through his lips for not leaving his blazer in his car because now his flames of desire were soaring.

He let out a deep cough, one that had masculinity threaded into the nonexistent syllables.

He watched her body jerk in fear, her hands flailing as her foot slipped. He cursed himself for startling her the way he had, whilst simultaneously rushing forward.