On one hand, there is a simple living girl embodying a serene demeanour and a contented outlook on life. She finds joy in everyday moments and treasures simplicity over extravagance. Her wardrobe consists of timeless pieces rather than trends, refle...
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I leaned down, kissing her again, this time slower, savoring every moment, every taste. My hands slipped to the small of her back, and I gently lifted her up, laying her down on the soft silk bedspread. The fabric beneath her made her look even more ethereal, her white dress blending with the sheets, her dark hair spilling over the red pillows like a waterfall.
I joined her on the bed, my hands never leaving her body, my lips never far from hers. The bed was impossibly soft, and as we sank into it together, the world outside disappeared. There was no one else—just me, Anshita, and the promise of our love filling the air.
The room around us felt like an extension of us—every detail, every candle, every petal, seemed to echo the passion we felt for each other. The heat from the fireplace mixed with the heat of our bodies, and as we continued to kiss, everything else fell away. The fairy lights above us twinkled like stars, but even they paled in comparison to the fire burning between us.
With each kiss, with each touch, we discovered more of each other—more of the love, the passion, the connection that had brought us to this moment. Our wedding night was more than just a celebration of our marriage; it was a celebration of us—of the love that had grown between us, and the life that lay ahead.
As we lay together, lost in each other, the world outside faded away, leaving only the sound of our breathing, the soft crackle of the fire, and the gentle beating of our hearts in perfect harmony. And in that moment, I knew that this night, this room, and this woman in my arms, were all I would ever need.
The moment was thick with desire, the air charged with the electricity between us. I stood at the foot of the bed, slowly shedding my clothes, never breaking eye contact with her. My coat came off first, slipping to the floor, then my hands moved to the buttons of my shirt. I undid each one slowly, deliberately, my eyes locked on her face, watching the effect I had on her. Her breathing hitched, her chest rising and falling more rapidly with every piece of fabric I removed from my body.
I threw my shirt to the floor, my pants following in quick succession, the sound of them hitting the ground barely registering as I stood there, now almost completely bare before her. My skin was exposed to the cool air, but the heat in the room, the heat between us, was enough to make me forget the chill. The way her eyes moved over me, taking in every inch of my body, sent shivers through me, fueling the desire that burned inside.
Anshita’s breath was shallow, her chest rising and falling faster now. Her lips parted slightly, and I could see the effect I had on her. Her eyes followed every movement, and I could feel her desire in the way her gaze lingered on me. It was intoxicating, knowing I had this power over her, but also knowing how much I wanted to give her pleasure in return.
God, I wanted to tear that dress off her body right then and there. The thought of seeing her, of feeling her beneath me, was enough to make my body ache with need. But I knew I wouldn’t. Not this dress. This was her wedding dress—our wedding dress—and I wouldn’t desecrate something so special, something that symbolized the beginning of our forever. I could tear any other piece of clothing from her body, but not this. This one deserved to be treated with reverence, just like she did.
