The Scandalous Wedding

Chapter 14: The Beautiful Torture

Sang gulped, as soon as she entered the room. It wasn't anything spectacular or so, but still, she could feel her heart skip a beat. She released a deep breath and though deep inside she was quivering, scared of what the night holds, strode in confidently, like she belonged there.

She rolled her eyes at herself, of course she belonged there. It was her husband's bedroom, which meant it was hers as well. Soft footsteps echoed into the room from behind her, but she didn't dare turn around. For the fear that Eli would sense her hesitation and the affect he had on her.

"I am gonna go change", she mumbled breathlessly and sauntered into the walk in closet, without sparing a glance behind her, where the source of her breathlessness stood. She snapped the double doors of the closet shut and leaned against it. Focus Sangavi Elijah McCoy, focus! She chided herself.

A chuckle escaped her lips as she realized how easily her new name came to her. No need to prepare or practice, it was as if her brain had already accepted that she was no more a de Silva and was a McCoy instead.

She sighed and shook her head and walked in. Her suitcase was lying in a corner, just the way she expected. Did the servants know that she was going to sleep in his room? Do all married couples share a room? She wondered, no matter how silly the question sounded to herself.

She needed a separate room, she thought determined. Not just because she didn't fancy sleeping with her husband, but also because she rejoiced her independence and freedom too much to compromise on it. She was sure Eli wouldn't mind that kind of arrangement, 'cause he valued his freedom more than she did.

With that resolution in mind, she opened her case and pulled out her pajamas. White colored nylon button down full hands with collar and parallel pants, with Mickey Mouse faces printed all over it. Perfect, she thought. She needed something just like this, unsexy and stupid. Something that will instantly kill his mood and the sexual tension.

She smiled at herself and patted her shoulder in appreciation. With the same grin plastered on her face, she stripped naked and put on her top and pants.

She found the laundry bin in the corner of the room and dumped her travel clothes that she wore all day in it and re-packed her bag. With a deep inhale of oxygen, she pulled the double doors open.

***

She is in there. Stripping naked. Like completely, utterly, naked. These thoughts rang in his brain on a loop, providing visuals in high definition. God! He groaned loudly rolling on to his stomach and burying his face into the pillow. He tried to smother himself, to suffocate to death. But just the thought of his wife changing clothes in the adjacent room, gave him a hope to live.

What is she going to wear, a see through night gown or a loose tee shirt that would reach her thighs and nothing else? Would she put her hair in a bun or leave it loose? What's taking her so long to change? He furrowed his brows wondering impatiently for her to open the door and then suddenly the double door snapped open.

A slow smile etched onto his face, as he stared at his bride from top to toe. She was clad in the most non-sexiest night clothes he had ever seen, but that didn't matter to his libido, cause it jerked to wake, all concentration on her. Those silly pajamas did nothing to hide her flawless, curvaceous body from his hungry eyes, which called to him, daring him to touch her. His eyes traced every curve of her and his body and soul like everything.

God! She's gorgeous, he thought.

He stared at her, as she stood there, frowning at something. And he stared hard. Her pajamas were loose, too loose in fact. And he wondered whether she was sporting any undergarments or not.