Mastani. Vivaan. Both are complete and total opposites from head to toe. She's the daughter of a nobleman. He's the prince of small kingdom.
A slightly sexy and dark romance. Set in ancient India, I will translate any unfamiliar language.
Mastani gave a huff as Meera handed her more and more jewelry. "This is to much na Meera?" she asked. "The prince himself has asked you to join him for dinner. You must dress nicely!" she said. Mastani looked at herself and frowned. She didn't look like herself, lips colored red, eyes heavily lined with kajal. Mastani suddenly removed all of her jewelry. "Mastani! What are you doing?" exclaimed Meera. Mastani wordlessly finished removing her jewelry, keeping only her mothers necklace, a few bangles, and a mang tikka(hair ornament) on. She wore a simple lehenga, of dark blue silk.
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Her long hair was tied into a neat bun, a few tendrils of hair escaping from it to frame her face. A jasmine garland was wrapped around the bun's base, creating a look of simple elegance. "Chal." she said quietly, getting up to leave. Meera followed her silently to the dining hall in the woman's quarters. Though she didn't show it, Mastani was nervous about dinner with the royal family. Though she had already met Aditi, Queen Jodha, and Vivaan, she was yet to meet his other siblings and the emperor. The intricately designed doors opened, and she walked through, leaving Meera behind. "Namaste Lady Mastani." The queen said. "Namaste maharani(empress)" she said. Vivaan gestured for her to sit between Aditi, and a fair young woman. This must be Payal, his adopted sister. Payal gave her a slightly cold look. She was quite beautiful, with long luscious hair, but had cold, expressionless eyes. Mastani looked around the room with a questioning look. "My father eats in his chambers, he joins us afterwords." Aditi whispered. Mastani nodded, taking in the other two people as Payal shot Aditi a glare, scolding her silently for talking. The child eating next to his mother must be Abhimanyu. Mastani tore a piece of roti mindlessly, scooping up some of the unfamiliar looking vegetables. She grimaced at the bland taste. She was used to spicy meat and vegetable curries, biryanis, and parathas accompanied by cups of Turkish coffee for dinner. Though weekends she never ate meats, substituting eggs. "So Mastani." the queen said. "My husband and I were thinking of arranging the wedding to be three weeks from today." Mastani nodded. "That is suitable." she said. From the corner of her eye, she saw Chandrika stiffen, tugging her veil over her face. A pang of sorrow struck Mastani's heart. She was taking away Chandrika's husband. After dinner, she was escorted back to her chambers half full. Meera was waiting inside the door, already dressed for bed in a pink cotton sari. "I have your bath ready didi(sister)." she said. Mastani nodded, pushing open the double doors into her bed chambers. She crossed the room and went into the bathroom. She breathed a sigh of satisfaction. Yah Allah, she had never had baths like this at home. The tub was carved of marble and shaped like a lotus. It was filled with warm water and rose petals. Small bottles of bath oils drifted in a basket. The view overlooked the setting sun. She removed her jewelry, leaving it on a small table a few feet to the right. Carefully taking off her lehenga, she called for Meera to take it away. She sank into the tub, letting the warm water relax her tense muscles. She sniffed the oils delicately, taking her pick of scents. Pouring the rosehip oil into her hands, she gently washed herself off. Washing her hair with shikakai plant, she conditioned the moisture back with coconut oil. She finished and grabbed a soft cotton towel. She patted herself dry, before turning her attention to her hair, rubbing it till it was damp before rewrapping herself in the towel. In the foggy looking glass, she looked at her reflection, the tired, wan eyes, pale skin. She smiled, calm and relaxed. Till the doors burst open. "Meera?" she asked, her voice fearful. There was no answer as a shirtless, dhoti clad man burst through the door. She gasped, heart pounding in her chest. It was Vivaan. He grabbed her waist and sighed. Those dark doe eyes and luscious lips aroused him every time he saw them. He tore her towel off, hungrily taking in every inch of her slim hourglass figure. He pressed her up against the wall, as her pleas filled the air. "Vivaan stop. Stop. It's a sin. Stop." He cupped her breast, moaning as it spilled out of his hands. He started kissing her neck, working his way up to her face. He touched her soft lips to his, as hot sticky tears rolled down her face. He began to lick her cheeks, lapping up her tears as she cried harder. He traveled back down to the neck and touched the hickey he had given her a few days back. He gave a hard kiss and sucked right on that spot. "Beautiful." he purred seductively, running his fingers through her hair. He stepped back, and from the pouch on his waist, he pulled out a small bottle. She stepped back, only to be met with the hard wall. He smiled evilly. He twisted the cap off of the bottle. The liquid in it smelled sickly sweet. "Drink." he ordered. She tightened her mouth, looking up at him defiantly. "Drink it!" he ordered slapping her thigh hard. The force of the slap caused her mouth to open, and suddenly, his fingers kept it there. He tipped the liquid into her mouth, then clamped it shut, forcing her to swallow. He then pushed her against the wall, kissing her breasts. He sucked on her nipple. She had given up on crying. She stared at the wall, which was starting to become blurry. Suddenly, fear struck her heart. No, no, it couldn't be. Whatever drug he had given her caused her to lose all sensation. She could see, but hazily. He smiled. It had worked. He picked her up bridal style and carried her. Her maid was gone, after he had ordered her out. Tonight, his focus would be this lovely angel. He laid her down on the bed, as she whimpered. She lay there, as he lit a few diya's for light, to make the night more pleasurable. He bolted the door tightly, and unwrapped his dhoti. Both were now stark naked. He climbed on top of her running his fingers over her body. She smelled like roses, which drove him insane. He smiled. Nothing like having sex with a virgin. He moved in rhythm, grinding his hips against hers. He began planting kisses down her neck. Her blood stained the sheets, and she writhed under his touch. He was a monster.
