Making You Mine

nineteen - the art and the artist

"So when are we going to be meeting my family?" Akshara rolled onto her side, tucking the comforter up to her chest, and tucking the lose ringlets of her frazzled, sex hair behind her ears.

"Your family? Why?" Abhimanyu replied, answering her question with a question. Another one of his defense tactics he used to avoid talking about an issue, as she'd come to gather. Other then the amazing sex, of course. The avoiding of the topic of discussion, she minded, the sex, she enjoyed to her core — pun intended.

"Because they are my family! My Bade Papa, Mimi, Badi Ma, Bhaiyaa, they deserve to know I'm engaged, don't they?"

It has been two days since their return from the Maldives. Two days since Abhimanyu had proposed or rather demanded that Akshara marry him. Two days since he had convinced her that marrying him whilst she had been caught him in the wild throughs of passion feeling Abhimanyu pulsate inside of her. Inside ever fiber of her being.

Two days since their return back to reality and all they'd done is sleep, eat, have crazy, insane, hot sex and repeat. Two days since Abhimanyu hadn't had enough of her and she of him.

And this need of his —to have her —to claim her had been like no other. No, he wasn't using her to keep his demons at bay. But for the first time in their relationship, Akshara felt as though they'd made gentle, soft, caring love. Not hot and heavy sex, but gentle, sweet love. He had been tender, and attentive, peppering her with soft kisses all over her body.

But she missed him. She missed the rough, edgy, controlling, dominant; aggressive Abhimanyu she'd become used to. She enjoyed the gentle and tender Abhimanyu, but she equally craved the aggressive control freak Abhimanyu too.

Abhimanyu rolled out of the bed, shimming himself into a pair of slacks and tucking his unkept shirt back into his pants, smoothening out the wrinkles. He strolled over to his walk in closet, and walked out wearing a pair of black chinos and a matching tie.

Akshara's eyes darted to Abhimanyu's blazer hanging from from the sofa chair near the windowsill of their room. She removed herself from the comfort of their bed and quickly stepped into bright red silky lace thong and donned a babydoll night gown, the same one Abhimanyu had removed from every inch of her body, little by little last night when she'd had one too many glasses of wine.

She may have been tipsy, but that didn't mean she didn't notice when Abhimanyu had left their room in her middle of the night —had disappeared for hours —only to sneak back into bed beside her at the crack of dawn. She noticed everything. But just didn't say anything. Not yet.

She grabbed the blazer off the sofa chair and boldly walked over to Abhimanyu, helping him wear the blazer, one arm at a time.

"Do you have to go?" She asked.

"I have an important meeting with investors. I would have skipped it if I could have." Abhimanyu didn't want to leave Akshara either. Till now, he had only thought of her has his obsession. A toy for him to ruin —ruin her for everyone but him. But now, now she was becoming an addiction.

Before, he didn't want any other man to have her. But now, he'd kill any man for even looking at her.

"When will you be back?" She asked, shyly adjusting his tie.

"As soon as I can be." He replied, honestly,

"Good. Because I am yet to paint you." Akshara announced, smoothening out his blazer as she went on her toes to place a small kiss on the tip of his nose.

"Paint me? I thought we already talked about this, Akshara." Abhimanyu reciprocated Akshara's affection by kissing her on the tip of the nose too.

"We did. And you agreed, remember?"