"Adh-v-ik" I called him while shuttering and as soon as he heard me, he slided inside my panties.
"Already wet for me Mrs.Shinghania" he said while playing with my clit.
I moaned and that was enough for him to get turned on. He started fingering me slowly.
"Shouldn't my wife get reward for calling my name" he whispered in my ear.
"ji" I moaned
He now thrusted with 2 fingers
"Adhvikk" I moaned
"That's how you should moan my name, little wife" he said
Our passionate embrace was abruptly halted by the sound of cries lacing through the air, shattering the fragile bubble of intimacy we had woven around ourselves.
Reality came crashing back with a jolt as I realized that my fervent moaning had awoken our sleeping princess.
"I'll go and calm her down," I offered, moving to extricate myself from his embrace, but his words halted me in my tracks.
"You go and get ready. I'll take care of her," he stated, his voice devoid of the warmth and affection that had enveloped us moments before.
The sudden shift in his demeanor caught me off guard, leaving me momentarily stunned. Was this the same man who had spoken to me with such tenderness mere moments ago?
The inconsistency of his behavior felt like a sharp slap to the face, a reminder of the unpredictable nature of our relationship.
Shrugging off my bewilderment, I began the task of draping my saree, my fingers moving deftly despite the turmoil churning within me. Meanwhile, he was consoling our daughter and at the same time his gaze burning into me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine, a silent promise of desires yet to be fulfilled.
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
With practiced ease, I gathered my thair into a neat bun, securing it in place before turning my attention to the wardrobe. Selecting my husband's clothes, I laid them out on the bed, a silent invitation for him to refresh himself.
Taking Vrihanika from his arms, I urged him to take a much-needed shower. As he disappeared into the bathroom, enveloped by the comforting steam, I turned my focus to our daughter, cradling her close as I settled into the familiar rhythm of feeding.
Yet, despite the joy of nurturing our child, a pang of insecurity gnawed at my heart, lingering like a shadow in the corners of my mind. The changes wrought by pregnancy had left mark upon my body, amplifying my self-consciousness, especially in the presence of my husband.
"Why do boys undergo no visible changes after becoming fathers?" I mused silently, with the unfairness of it all. The burden of physical transformation seemed unfairly weighted upon women, a silent sacrifice borne in the name of motherhood.
With tender care, I coaxed our daughter into a peaceful slumber, surrounding her with four pillows to ensure her safety. Satisfied that she was settled.
I then,descended the stairs, greeted by the bustling energy of our household staff
"Adhya, go and prepare kheer," my mother-in-law's directive echoed through the house.
With a dutiful nod, I made my way to the kitchen, ready to embark on the task at hand.
As I busied myself with the ingredients, Lost in the soothing repetition of stirring and simmering, I found solace in the familiar rituals of cooking.
But my concentration was soon broken by the sight of Adhvik descending the staircase, resplendent in a kurta that accentuated his rugged charm.
The simple elegance of his attire only served to enhance his magnetic presence, drawing my gaze like a moth to a flame.
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
"Shit Iam checking out a man shamelessly" I muttered
"Remember that, he is your man, your husband" my subconscious taunted me
Before I could get caught from my husband for checking out on him, I decided to avert my gaze from him and started preparing kheer.
"Mumma!" Vihan's enthusiastic voice rang out as soon as he spotted me in the kitchen, his face lighting up with delight.
"Good morning, beta," I greeted him with a smile, scooping him up into my arms and showering him with kisses, eliciting peals of laughter from him in response.
"Who bathed you?" I inquired, curious about his morning routine.
"Dadi," he replied with a grin,
I Nodded in acknowledgment.
"Where is my sister?" he inquired, his curiosity palpable
"She is sleeping," I informed him.
A sharp voice pierced through the air, shattering the tranquility of the moment breaking our interaction
"You still haven't completed making the kheer, you useless," my mother-in-law's scathing remark cut through the air like a knife, her disapproval palpable.
But as soon as her gaze fell upon Vihan, her features softened, a tender smile gracing her lips as she engaged him in conversation, momentarily forgetting her previous admonishment.
With a sense of determination, I focused on completing the task at hand, determined not to let her words dampen my spirits.
Once the kheer was ready, dadi called everyone to assemble in the Puja room, signaling that it was time for the ritual. Adhvik cradled Vrihanika in his arms.
As we approached the threshold of the Puja hall, a sense of reverence enveloped us. Instinctively, I reached for the veil to cover my face, a gesture born of tradition, but before I could do so, Adhvik's gentle hand intervened, gracefully draping the fabric over my head.
Grateful for his thoughtfulness, I followed his lead without a word, allowing the veil to shield my flushed cheeks from prying eyes.
As we stepped into the hall, the aroma of incense and the soft glow of candlelight greeted us, casting a serene ambiance over the room. Without hesitation, we took our places.
As the Puja commenced, the rhythmic chanting of prayers filled the air, filling devotion all over the room .
After an hour, the Puja came to fruition, we approached the elders, seeking their blessings.
As the day drew to a close, exhaustion weighed heavy upon us all, prompting each of us to retire to our respective chambers. With weary steps, we ascended the stairs, the weariness of the day's events etched upon our faces.
