Kama: Liberation (Vol-I)

Chapter 50(Part-II🔞): The Consummation

Mind, body and soul– conjoin me with you.

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Now aware of the truth, Nadira and Aryamna lay warm in each other's embrace, resting in the silent aftermath. Nadira drew haphazard shapes upon his chest, wondering about all the forgotten nights she had spent with him, tucked in his arms and melted by his kisses. She didn't remember anything completely, only blocks of half-written stories. But the sensations were still alive.

She could feel his hot skin steam like a boiling syrup under her touch. It wasn't her quality now to approach the delicate subject of intimacy. Perhaps in the past she had been bolder to charge at him in passion, but now she could only wait.

"You wouldn't think me to be a crude man, will you?"

"Why?"

She followed his gaze, which cautiously drank the flesh pressed between her breasts. Flustered, she retracted her hand from his chest. Maybe she had unwittingly turned him on.

"Don't stop," he whispered. "I like your dreamy touch."

"We should go to sleep." Please, tell me no.

"I thought," he grabbed her plump back, "we could spend the night sharing more of us."

Maybe he was waiting for this night, this exact moment. It would be a lie if she said she wasn't thirsty too.

"I had promised to not be close to you unless you told me your secret." He swallowed. The cotton skirt strained over her round bottom, stretching even further on her thick thighs. "They were always so nice to touch," he said out loud, the unintentional confession confusing Nadira. "I mean, one can exchange your breasts for a pillow. It's so soft and juicy–"

Oh no.

Nadira eyed him with a flare in her gaze, the curve of her brows hinting at her being flattered.

He gulped. "I have been doing nothing for sixteen years, Nadira. Not even...by myself. I-I just can't take it anymore."

She bent her body, accentuating her hips and pressing her moulds to his chest. If she didn't have the words, she could instead ask for it like this.

"I want to make love to you," he said.

She pursed her lips. "I have a little fear."

Aryamna stiffened. He crooned in her ears, "I will never hurt you. The pain in your eyes kill me. Allow me to show you what love is, and all your fears will be gone. I ain't a lecherous man, although I do lust for you. But, only for you." His hand gently pressed on her butt and she parted her lips. "Do you fear me?"

"I-I don't." Look at those eyes, such a glittering shade of blue, flaming in the red of love. "It's about my own body. I don't know, but I don't feel very confident about my curves, or the folds of skin on my belly. The worst being the scar–"

Aryamna released his hold on her and sat upright to pull out his attire. Within moments he was as naked as a marble statue of Revat. Nadira stared at him in awe of his beauty. She felt she was nothing in front of his godly perfection.

Not a bit of unnecessary fat on his body, no blemish, no spot. Even his manhood was a curve carefully erected.

"I have gone naked before you plenty of times, so I don't have any shame. I don't mind walking around the house like this, if it's you watching me."

He climbed over her, the pendant of rose quartz dangling down, inviting Nadira to bite it. The moonbeams falling on his chiselled face blessed Nadira with a sight she would rather memorise than forget again. She would remember this in dream and nightmare, when awake and when fainting. This was a gift of god. She didn't know what she did to have such a remarkably attractive husband.