KATHA

21 KATHA - PUNISHMENT

"What did you just say ?"

His fingers brushed against my cheek, a silent request that held a promise of something unspoken yet deeply understood. The tension seemed to thicken, charged with an undeniable temptation that enveloped us like a cocoon.

"Go on, Kalki." Our lips met in a gentle collision, a tender meeting that sent my senses dancing on the precipice of madness. I began turning into a mess. Electric jolts surged through my veins, rushing to my heart and kickstarting it into a frenzied rhythm that overwhelmed me and set ablaze everything around me.

Time seemed to stand still as his lips moved against mine in a delicate balance of urgency and restraint, a symphony of desire and longing that resonated within my depths. His hands cradled my face, his touch both possessive and gentle, as if he thought I'd break if he let go. When he plunged his tongue in my mouth, I gripped his hair and sucked on it eliciting a feral groan and a moment later, I found myself with my back to the ground and his muscular body hovering over mine. Not once did he break the kiss, not caring about the cutlery crashing beside us. It was a heady concoction of passion, vulnerability, and a yearning that had been brewing like a storm between us. Churning. Crashing against the edges of our restraint. I ran my fingers down his face, committing every touch to my memory. Each glide of tongue, each stroke of his lips against mine felt like an unspoken promise, a silent declaration of the emotions that words could never truly capture.

When we pulled away for air, I was panting and when he leaned in for the second time, I picked a brownie and stuffed his mouth. He just laughed and cleaned the choclate off his lips with his thumb, smiling warmly with his eyes on me.

Then he slumped on his back, resting his head on his forearm as he watched the stars starting to appear.

I got up to straighten my saree and hair. Then I threw a pillow at his beautiful face. Laughing, he placed it under his head and fixed his mismatched gaze on the sky.

Since it was getting cold, I pulled a blanket over us and settled beside him.

Soft music escaped the radio, sweetness danced on my tongue, my heart was on seventh heaven and an infinite number of stars were reflecting on my eyes.

I was content.

And yet I found myself looking for that darkness. That pain. That thrill.

______

Rishi was in his room sound asleep. He hated storms so he remained in his room whenever one hit and came out only when it mellowed.

I was lying on the round bed in the middle of the solarium at the back of our house that overlooked the majestic sea. Watching the fury if nature.

I loved thunderstorms.

This one seemed to be unforgiving, unrivalled, and unmatched in rage. The sky shuddered as if the very fabric of the cosmos quivered in response to the chaos. Dark clouds stretched across the expanse, drowning the moon's frail attempts to swathe this wretched city in silver. I gazed with fascination as bolts of white fire tore through the dark sky and pierced the horizon, jagged veins of searing moonlight that momentarily revealed the world in a stark, brutal clarity before casting it back into profound darkness.

Sheets of rain descended upon the glass, the sound in sync with my heart, an unrelenting deluge that pounded with a primal urgency.

Amidst the maddened fury of nature's tempestuous wrath, there was an undeniable sense of both awe and... Something else. I was fired up. Slowly, gently, my hand traced my neck and ran along until I palmed my breast. My other hand glided down my exposed midriff towards the middle of my thighs where heat throbbed for attention. The world around me both diminished and magnified, a vulnerable canvas upon which the universe was painting it's most unforgiving masterpiece.