Mature content - please exercise discretion and skip if you're under 18 or uncomfortable reading erotica. Next chapter is about family and babies, so if you skip this one, just pretend that the Bhallas went quietly to bed and wait for next weeks installment 😂

Royal Suite @ Shimla Lodge
Saturday January - 2.30 pm

And then the doorbell rang.

Raman swore under his breath as his wife took a step away from him, towards the door.

"Leave it" he growled, his hand snaking out to pull her back to him. "Just stay here."

"But Raman" she whispered, as his lips again hovered over hers, and the doorbell pealed incessantly. "It must be important, that's why...."

She looked up at him imploringly and he melted, dropping his lips on hers fleetingly, his teeth nipping her soft skin before he lifted his head. "I'll see to it jaan" he smiled at her, walking to the door and throwing it open. It was the bellboy.

"Sir, do aadmi hai neeche kehte hai ki Mr Bruce Lee ne bheja hai" the young man said excitedly. (Sir, there are two men downstairs, they say Mr Bruce Lee sent them over)

"Theek hai, mein aata hoon" ( Fine, I'm coming) Raman suppressed a grin and saw the bellboy retreat from the door before turning to his wife. "I'll just go and speak to them Ishita. Mr Lee said that his men would try to come over to see me"

"But Raman" Ishita clutched her husband's arm anxiously. "That means they were able to get through from the resort. So will you need to go there now? What if..."

'"Shhh, it's ok jaan" he interrupted. "I think they were already in town but in any event I'll come back to Shimla and see the resort later. We are going home as soon as the airport opens tomorrow, okay? Now, I'll just go and see them and come back."His voice changed, the huskiness creeping back in as his hands snaked behind her, cupping her derrière and pulling her to him. He bent his head to her parted lips, capturing her soft underlip with his, kissing her hard before he reluctantly let her go. "Wait for me hmmm."

Ishita blushed and smiled at her husband, her breath quickened, her skin tingling where his fingers had been. "I'll just go and shower" she said. "Jaldi wapas aana." (Come back quickly)

*****************************
In fact it was close to an hour before Raman was able to get back to their room. Mr Lee's two employees had been easily dismissed, but then he had been hailed by two old friends from Mumbai who were also staying at the Shimla lodge, their return home from a meeting postponed by the snowstorm. He had not seen them for years and did not realize how time flew past as they chatted.

When he finally returned to the room, it was to find his wife sprawled on the bed in her dressing gown, fast asleep. He knew from his fevered recollections of the past night that she had been up most of the night, tending to him, and he did not have the heart to wake her up. Instead, he kissed her cheek softly and covered her gently with a blanket. He then adjusted the heating and went to have his own shower. After showering, he sat on the bed with some work, content to be with her, to hear her gentle breathing. The uncertainty, the stress, the confusion of the past month was gone, seemed to be a distant dream. Here, by her side, he was truly content.

*****************************
Ishita woke with a start.

Was Raman back? she wondered as she sat up in some confusion. She had thought to close her eyes for a few minutes after taking her shower, but she had obviously slept for longer than she had planned to. She looked at the clock on the mantelpiece and then exclaimed out loud. 7 pm. She had been sleeping for over 4 Hours! But where was Raman?

She jumped out of bed, pulling the sash of her gown close together and looking around her as she did. A quiet chuckle made her turn towards the window and she watched as he uncoiled himself from the easy chair where he had been sitting, watching her.

"Sorry Raman" she exclaimed, as he walked up to her. "I didn't realize how late it was. Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I love you my sleeping beauty" he replied as he reached her, pulling her into his arms. "I didn't want to disturb you. Lekin yaar, bahut bhukh lagi hai. Poora din kuch khaya nahi. Ab jaldi se taiyaar ho jao and let's go and get some dinner warna tumhe hi kha loonga." He paused, a glint in his eyes as he eyed her robe clad form. "Actually on second thoughts...."
(I love you my sleeping beauty. I didn't want to disturb you. But I'm really hungry. We haven't eaten all day. Get ready quickly and let's go and get some dinner otherwise I'll eat you up. ..Actually on second thoughts....)

There was laughter in his voice but Ishita couldn't help but blush at the intense look on her husband's face. She knew that all their loneliness and the pain of the past month would be erased in each other's arms tonight, and she too was eager for the time to come.  "Ten minutes" she whispered, before escaping into the bathroom, his laughter following her.

*****************************
Royal Shimla Lodge Fine Dining Restaurant
8.30 pm

Raman sat back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face, reflected by the smile on his wife's face.

They had just finished a tasty meal of soup and pasta, although the truth be told, Ishita had barely tasted anything. Just being together with her husband, being able to see love and affection in his eyes, knowing that the bad times were behind them, was nourishment enough for her.

She had been hungry and she had eaten, but anything would have tasted just fine with him by her side. Anything at all.

She had been able to get a call through to Delhi, had spoken to Mummyji before they had come down for dinner, but she had not told her that Raman's memory was back. It was a secret she wanted to hug just to herself, just for tonight. Their night at the cottage, the renewed memories of their time together in New Zealand had evoked a hidden desire in her. She wanted to be his inamorata again, to relive the memories of their clandestine courting for one more night, before going back into the real world tomorrow.

"Aise kya dekh rahi ho?" he asked softly, arching an eyebrow as she gazed lovingly at him, her heart in her eyes.
(Why are you looking at me like that?)

"Nothing" she whispered, embarrassed at being caught ogling him again. He looked so very handsome though, in his crisp white shirt and faded denims, a black jacket warding off some of the chill that permeated the room, despite the fire burning in the huge fireplace at the far end.

He continued to stare and it was her turn to blush beneath the intensity of his gaze.

"Dekhna toh mujhe chahiye" he continued, passion smoldering in his voice. "You look so damned sexy baby."
(I should be the one looking. You look so damned sexy baby)

"Ramannn" Ishita whispered, blushing even harder.

Ever since her pregnancy, no even before that, from the time that they had started fertility treatment, the intensity of passion between them had ebbed and flowed. They still loved each other desperately, but the responsibility of two and then four children and the cares of home and family had meant that sexual desire had taken a backseat. Their lovemaking had not had the same desperation and the sheer wildness of their initial few nights, the times they had been hiding their love from the world.

They had become comfortable with each other, and while that comfort eased and nurtured her heart, she also craved the excitement of the unknown. But only with him. Always with him.

Since the accident, her husband had been looking at her differently. She knew he was attracted to her even when he believed she was just his secretary, was married to another man. He had wanted her despite himself, and that excited her in a way she could not fathom. Even after this morning, after recovering his memory, the intensity of his looks suggested banked up desires that both frightened and thrilled her. It was as if everything was new, every emotion was heightened, as if tonight, they would love each other for the very first time.

His words, the tone of his voice, his eyes, the little touches which he bestowed on her all told her that she was in for a night of unforgettable passion.

Her thoughts were reinforced as he leaned across the table, his eyes boring into hers even as his hand captured her thigh underneath the table, his fingers stroking her gently over her woolen red dress.

"You drive me crazy in red, you know that" he murmured, as his hand inched up her thigh, his eyes never wavering from hers. "Isliye ye pehna hai na? Mujhe pagaal karne ke liye?"
(That's why you're wearing this right? To drive me out of my senses?)

It was a dress that he had bought for her on one of his trips, and she had packed it hoping that seeing her in it would re-kindle some memory. It was close fitting, its woolen material clinging to and falling from her curves, and it was more daring then she was comfortable wearing. But he loved seeing her in it, often insisting she put it on in their bedroom, chiding her for not wearing it when out with him. She had packed it to use in her mission to bring back his memory, and it had come in use tonight, when she had been unable to find anything else to wear to this restaurant which was so evocative of the British Raj and it's colonial trappings. But she had covered the clinging top with a short black cloak, not wanting anyone but him to see her in something so revealing.

His fingers continued their upwards journey, hidden by the tablecloth, even as he looked innocently at her. She shivered and then blushed, her cheeks reflecting the hue of her dress as she captured his roving hand in hers.

The scent of his after shave wafted from his freshly shaven face, and she inhaled deeply, wanting to calm her thundering heart. He was her husband, everything was familiar and yet, somehow, everything was new. She wanted him so much, and tonight there would be no inhibitions, no barriers, no shame, no embarrassment.

She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes.

"Raman, I missed you so much. Take me back to our room. Make love to me."

He muttered under his breath and stood up abruptly, pulling her up with him.

"Stop looking at me like that, or I swear I'll kiss you senseless right here and now baby" he whispered as he pulled back her chair, helping her up, one arm going possessively around her shoulders as they walked out of the dining room.

They did not notice the woman who had just sat down at the next table, did not notice her shocked expression, did not notice as she followed them outside the dining room.

*****************************
The staircase was deserted as he hurried her up the stairs, his arm tight across her shoulders, his breath warm in her ear as he whispered to her.

"I'm glad you got some sleep this afternoon because I'm not letting you sleep all night baby. You're mine all night."

"And just what are you intending to do Mr Bhalla?" Her voice was flirtatious and coy as they reached the landing, and she pulled away from him as she ran to their door. She felt so young, so carefree tonight, and flirting with her husband had an edge of the unknown.

" I'm going to make you scream with pleasure baby" he growled at her, as he reached her, pinning her against their door. "You're going to scream my name all night long."

"Is that right? Well, lucky her, I must say."

The third voice was brittle and abrupt and they both wheeled around in surprise. The woman had followed them from the dining room, and up the stairs, but they had been so engrossed in each other they had not seen her. She could not be ignored now though, as she stood before them, her eyes blazing, a sneer on her lips. She was a petite woman in her early thirties, dressed in a clinging black minidress despite the weather, her hair cut short, curling on her shoulders, her attractive face heavily made up.

Ishita stared at the woman in bewilderment and then looked at her husband. He had been looking at the woman in as much bewilderment as she was, and then a look of recognition came into his eyes. Raima. That was her name. Raima. His lips pressed into a narrow line as he shook his head, and then he looked at his wife nervously.

"Ishita"

"Who is she Raman?"

"Oh, I'm nobody important." The woman interrupted, glaring at Raman. "I don't think Mr Bhalla even remembers my name. I recognized your photo in the newspapers after you dumped me that night Mr Bhalla. Congratulations on the new venture with Lee Resorts." She turned her gaze at Ishita. "I just wanted to let you know that the famous Mr Bhalla has a habit of picking up women in bars. He did it to me less than three weeks ago. Then he got cold feet for some reason, or maybe he just found a more attractive proposition. But you were looking at him with so much love that I thought I should warn you. He is a player my dear, so be careful. He hides his private life very well, but I found out that he is married. I don't know if he has told you that. Consider this a friendly warning."

And with that she turned on her heel and walked off down the corridor, back towards the stairs.
*****************************

Tears blinded Ishita's eyes as she fumbled with the ornate old fashioned key to the door,

She was conscious of her husband standing behind her, trying to get her attention, trying to speak to her, but she was not prepared to speak to him. Not now. Not just now. She needed to get inside the room before anyone saw her, before the hot tears spilled down, before she embarrassed herself before anyone.

The key finally connected and she pushed the door open, rushing inside.

He was right behind her, closing the door with a bang, thrusting the bolt before he came up to her and grabbed her arm, pulling her around to face him.

"I told you Ishita. I told you dammit. It was that night. That night I....I went out. But nothing happened Ishita. You have to believe me. Nothing happened."

"Leave me" she shouted, tears falling unchecked now, jerking his hand off. "Just leave me alone please Raman."

"Why?" he shouted back at her, knowing her anger was justified, but hurt that she would blame him for what he had not even done. "You knew. You knew everything. And nothing even happened Ishita. Why are you being so damn unreasonable?"

"Unreasonable?" She looked at him through her tears, hugging herself as the pain of that night came back to torment her, her voice shrill. "Some woman tells me how my husband tried to pick her up, warns me against him, and I'm being unreasonable? Two weeks Raman. You forgot about me and in just two weeks you were out there cruising around looking for...for..."

"For sex Ishita. Just say it." His face was as ashen as hers, his voice as hurt, its tone as strident. Only his eyes were dry as he gazed at her intently, fire burning in their depths. "I forgot you and I was out there looking for sex. I turned back into the man I used to be before I met you. The man you married knowing full well what he was, who he was." His voice rose an octave as he grabbed his wife by the arm again, making her look him in the eyes. "You knew who I was Ishita. I never hid anything from you. You knew what my life was before I met you. I'm not proud of it Ishita, but it is my truth. And you knew." He looked at her accusingly, the hurt still evident. "You knew."

"Yes I knew Raman" she wasn't prepared to give up just yet, the pain too deep. "I knew what your life was like before. But that was before you met me and this was now. You...you promised me when you proposed to me that all that was over, done with. You promised me you would never betray me...you promised me I would be enough for you...always. Always Raman. Hamesha."

"And you were. You are." His voice matched hers, loud, insistent. "Nothing happened Ishita. You know nothing happened. I never betrayed you. I never even touched her. Something stopped me. I didn't even know that I was yours but something stopped me."

"Betrayal isn't just physical Raman"  she could not help her eyes welling over again as she shouted at him, wanting him to understand, wishing she could understand herself just why she was so hurt. "The fact that you even ..... It hurts. It hurt that night. It hurts today."

She jerked her hand free of his again, and sat on the bed,  not bothering to stem the tears that started to flow again. That awful night. Watching him leave. Wanting to follow him. And the jealousy when he came back smelling of a woman's perfume. That woman. She had coped with the pain in the abstract,  but now her torment had a face. To have that woman throw up her husband's perfidy before her tonight had devastated her. She thought she had forgotten about it, but of course she hadn't. And the pain was too deep to pretend that it didn't matter.

"Why didn't you tell me everything then?" His voice cut through the silence of her tears. "I didn't remember you, I didn't remember us, but you did Ishita. You remembered everything, you knew everything. So why this pretense of being my secretary, hiding my truth, hiding my children from me, changing everything around at home? You erased yourself from my life Ishita. Why didn't you just tell me at the hospital dammit? You hid the truth about my life , and now you blame me for acting like the man I thought I still was."

"Because you couldn't handle the truth" she shouted back, her heart aching anew by his unfair accusations. "If I had told you I was your wife, if I had insisted on bringing the babies to you, it might have caused you irreparable harm Raman. I couldn't do that, I couldn't risk that. I couldn't risk your life."

"Why not?" He asked roughly, striding over to the bed and pulling her to her feet. He pulled her into his arms, one hand on her chin as he forced her to look at him. "What do you think you're doing now huh? You're killing me Ishita. You're... you're....."

He looked deep into her eyes, right through the veil of her tears and into her heart. And he saw the pain that she was in. Pain he had given her.

The fight went out of him and he let her go, striding to the wall, tears dulling his vision now as he stared unseeingly before him, before turning around to look at her again. She was standing where he had left her, so still, so silent.

"My mind forgot you" his voice had dropped, it was more a plea now. "My mind forgot you but my soul didn't Ishita. Yes I went out that night, but I was looking for you. It was always you, there hasn't been anyone else since New Zealand. I was looking for you and when I didn't find you I came back home. And you were there. I didn't betray you. I never will. And if you can't believe me, if I can't make you believe that, then I don't ...I don't want to carry on Ishita, I don't want to..."

He held his head in his hands, a sudden searing pain rushing through him.

"Raman" she was by his side in a flash, her hands going up to his, trembling as they cradled his face, her eyes desperately searching his. "Kya hua? Oh God, kya hua aap ko? Dard ho raha hai kya? Yeh kya kiya Maine? Oh God Raman, please, Murugan please, Raman kuch kaho na."
(Raman. What's the matter? Oh God, What's the matter with you? Are you in pain? What have I done? Oh God Raman, please, Murugan please, Raman say something)

He opened his eyes, tears shimmering as he gazed at her for a long second, his hands capturing hers.

"Nothing happened Ishita. Believe me baby please."

"I know Raman. I'm sorry, I was just so hurt, please be okay, Murugan please, please be okay." Her hands caressed his face all over as she stared anxiously at him, fresh hot tears cascading down her cheeks.

"It's all right, it's all right baby, I'm fine" his fingers gently wiped her tears even as his own eyes flowed unheeded now. "And you don't have to be sorry. I'm sorry. I always give you pain, always hurt you. But don't leave me ishita please. Mein marjaonga tumhare bina. Mujhe mat chodna meri jaan, mujhe kabhi mat chodna."
(I'll die without you. Don't leave me my love, don't ever leave me)

He sunk into her arms, his own holding on tightly to her. "Don't leave me baby" he repeated. "Nothing happened Ishita, Nothing happened. I was looking for you, I missed you so much, I needed you so much baby. All these weeks, I missed you so much baby. I love you so much. I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry for everything."

"I won't leave you Raman" she whispered from the cocoon of his arms. "Ab please aap aaram kijiye, please." She pulled away from him and pushed him gently onto the bed. "I need to give you your tablets. Aap ko kal bhukhar bhi tha aur yeh headache... we need to go and see the neurologist again tomorrow, theek hai?"
(I won't leave you Raman. Please, you need to rest now. I need to give you your tablets. You had fever yesterday and now this headache...we need to go and see the neurologist again tomorrow, okay?)

She stepped away from him, evading him as he tried to pull her back.

"Ishita" he said plaintively, as she stepped away.

"I'll be back soon" she whispered before escaping into the bathroom.
*****************************
She washed her face slowly, taking deep breaths as the cold water cascaded from the tap.

This damn unreasoning jealousy of hers. It had made her forget her husband's condition, made her forget the reality of the past few weeks. All that she knew was that another woman had staked a claim on him, and she had not been able to handle that. That woman's words had brought back all her insecurities, her fears that she would not be enough for him, that one day he would get bored of her, would look for another woman when he had had enough of her.

But he had not betrayed her. Something had stopped him. And she knew that something was love. Her love. Maybe that was how she needed to look back on this episode. That even when he did not know he was hers, he still knew her love. Even in that unconsciousness of mind, he had held back. Even when he thought he was free and unfettered, he had not slept with a willing attractive woman. He had not known why he had rejected that woman, but the truth was that he had. And he had come back to her, to his wife, had come back home.

She quickly applied fresh make up with shaking fingers, wanting desperately to turn back the clock, to erase the past few minutes. Then she picked up the sachet with his tablets and walked back into the bedroom.
*****************************

Raman had been sitting where he had left her, the pain in his throbbing head receding as he thought back over the past few minutes.

She had been totally justified in her reaction, of course. He had done what he had done, and no wife could be expected to understand, to forgive. The fact that he had no memory of her at that time explained his act to himself, but how did he expect her to understand. Would he have been so accepting, so forgiving if the tables were turned? If she had lost her memory, had imagined herself still in love with that wimp Subbu? If she had gone to Subbu? How would he have felt?

Insane with jealousy. That's how. He would have tried to kill that asinine Subbu. So how could he blame her for her reaction?

He got up impatiently and wiped his face, then grabbed a bottle of scotch from the room bar. Moodily he mixed a drink and stood by the window sipping, looking out into the darkness and into his own soul.

He heard the bathroom door open, heard her footsteps.

"Raman" her voice was hesitant as she came up behind him. "Take this please." She held out his tablets and a glass of water and then her face changed as she saw the drink in his hand.

"Aap...aap sharab pee rahe hai Raman? You know you shouldn't, not with the injury and..."
(You..you're drinking Raman? You know you shouldn't, not with the injury and...)

Wordlessly he gulped down his drink, his eyes never leaving hers as he put down his glass the took the one she held. He took the tablets from her hand, swallowing them, drank the water and then put down that glass too. His eyes never left hers and she shivered as further remonstrations died on her lips.

He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms in one swift move, holding her close, face inches from her as he looked firmly into her eyes.

"You're not my nurse Ishita. And I'm not some damned invalid or a child. Enough of this now. You're my wife and I'm your husband and it's time that we re-established that, do you understand?"

"Raman, aap ki tabiyat...." Her voice was a whisper, his nearness disconcerting. (Raman, your health...)

"Meri tabiyat sirf tab theek hogi jab meri biwi mujh se naaraz nahi hogi, mujhe maaf karegi, aur mujhe pyar karegi."
(My health will get better only when my wife stops being angry with me, forgives me and loves me)

"Maafi ki kya zaroorat hai Raman...."
(There's no need for forgiveness Raman...)

"Zaroorat hai Ishita. I hurt you, I know that now. I didn't know at the time, but that is not an excuse. I hurt you and now I need to make it up to you. You've been taking care of me for so long but that's done now biwi. I'm not your patient, I'm your husband, and we need to move past this. So forgive me. Say you forgive me."

His lips were just inches from hers and she could feel his heart thudding against hers as he continued to ho,d her firmly within his arms.

"Say it baby." His voice changed, became deeper  as she continued to stay silent, her lips parting as the feel of his body against hers started to register with her. She loved him. She wanted him. He was right. And he deserved her honesty.

"I ....I know you didn't remember Raman. I know you didn't mean to hurt me. It still...it still hurts but I do forgive you. I just ...l I don't want to think about it anymore, I ..."

"I'll make it up to you, I promise" his voice was husky with need as he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to their bed. "But I'm your husband, not your patient. And don't you forget that."

"Mein ne kab kaha....." (When did I say ...) she had started to say as he sat on the bed, placing her on his lap, his hands busy removing the waist length black faux fur cloak that covered her red dress.

"Shhh" he interrupted. "You talk too much madrassan."

His fingers finally managed to unbutton the cloak and he flung it away, his breath quickening as he stared at his wife. Her breasts strained against the red wool, both cups outlined by the clinging material, the v neck showing her cleavage. It always turned him on. The red against her creamy skin, the shape of her soft breasts outlined under the wool, the expanse of skin revealed by that deep v neck. She had covered up when they went to dinner but he had spent the entire meal thinking of what he knew was hidden underneath, and the emotional contretemps that had just happened between them had whetted his appetite more.

Her jealousy always inflamed his desires. Sparring with her always added an edge to passion.

Her heart was beating as erratically as his as she watched her husband watching her. She saw the fires deepen in his eyes as he ran a finger along her jaw and down her neck, a slow sensual stroke that left her shivering. She grabbed his hand as his finger trailed lower, bringing it back up to her face instead.

It would not be so easy for him. She would not let it be that easy. But before that she had to know something.

"Raman, are you sure you're okay?"

Her voice had barely left her throat before he made a sound of exasperation, throwing her bodily onto the bed off his lap and straddling her.

"I told you I'm not an invalid Ishita" his voice was full of pent up passion, frustration adding an edge. She shivered and closed her eyes as he captured both her hands in his, holding her down as she tried to get up.

"Prove it then" she whispered, eyes opening wide as she looked into his. She arched her back, her breasts straining tighter against her dress, her fingers entwining with his as she pulled him onto herself. What had just happened between them had left her raw. The past month had stolen all control from her. She needed to get that control back. She needed to call the shots right now.

"How?" he asked, hands leaving hers as he pulled her up with him, their lips quivering but not touching, heated bodies facing each other, his hands loose on her waist.

"Do I have to tell you that?" her voice was a silky whisper as she grabbed his shirt, pulling the shirt tails out of his jeans, sliding her hands underneath, then reaching up to his chest, her fingers caressing his heated skin.

"Yes" he whispered, tantalized by this version of his wife. "You see, it's been so long, I've forgotten everything."

"Just do what I'm doing" her fingers continued to caress, traveling higher and higher, until they rested on his breastbone. She closed her eyes again as she splayed her fingers over his chest, the tips softly stroking his hard nipples.

He drew in his breath as he gazed in wonder at his wife, her eyes closed, soft dewy lips parted as her hands scratched and pulled at his chest.

"Like this?"

He took his hands off her waist, his fingers finding the hem of her long dress, as his hands slid it up her legs. She shivered, her hands pausing as the soft wool grazed her legs, bunching at her waist. Then his fingers were on her hips and she gasped, as he started to move his hands up her chest.

His own breathing was erratic now as his hands encountered that soft skin of hers. Softness that he could drown in. Softness that drive him to the edge of his senses.

"Yes" she whispered, her fingers moving again, drawing soft circles around his nipples, pulling, pinching and then caressing. "Like this."

He moved his hands higher, splaying his fingers just as she had, capturing a soft mound in each hand. Her fingers stilled again on him as she gasped, her head thrown back as little fissures of delight exploded within her.

"What about this?" he asked, as his fingers began to stroke softly, just as hers had, the tips skimming over her aureoles, then capturing her nipples, pinching softly, then caressing, as he felt her tremble beneath his hands.

"Hmmm" she murmured, her own hands moving down and away, as she pulled his shirt open. His fingers were working their magic on her, and it took all her will power not to throw herself into his arms, not to beg to be kissed, but she was determined to be in control tonight.

She raised flashing eyes to his as he looked at her in delight, hands pausing, wondering just what had come over his shy madrassan tonight.

She pushed his shirt off his shoulders, leaving him bare to her gaze.

"This" she said, her breath quickening.

He smiled softly, then his fingers stilled on her soft mounds, and he moved his hands to her back, pulling down the zipper until her dress pooled at her waist, leaving her as bare to his gaze as he was to hers.

"Oh baby" he whispered as he looked at his wife, her chest heaving as she faced him, body trembling, eyes closed, cheeks flushed. She had hidden herself from him since the babies were born, always preferring to make love under the covers, with lights off, shy because of her changing body.

There was none of that shyness today. Or if there was, she hid it well. The lights were muted in this room, yes, but he could see her clearly and she knew it. The flickering flames from the fire close by rippled shadows on her skin as he watched her awe struck. She had lost a lot of weight recently but she had not lost the curves which made him weak at the knees. Curves that swelled her chest, running down to softly rounded abs, and then flaring off into those wanton welcoming hips, before tapering into those beautiful legs. She was all woman, and she was all his. She was trusting him with all of herself today, and that trust was the greatest forgiveness that she could give him.

"Jaan." He whispered, wanting to thank her, not knowing how. "Meri jaan."

She opened her eyes then, and stared deep into his.

"And this" she whispered, her hands alighting on his face as she kissed his forehead softly. His eyes closed at the love in that gesture as tears threatened him, and she kissed both eyes lids just as gently, before her lips alighted on his cheeks. That was when they tasted his tears and she opened her eyes, bewildered.

"Raman" she whispered. "Kya hua? What did I do wrong? What..."

He pulled her into his arms, crushing her against him, trying to stem the tears that threatened to overwhelm. "Nothing" he whispered into her ear. "Nothing is wrong. I just love you so much. I love you so much."

"Raman" she twisted in his arms, her hands reaching up to cradle his face as worry replaced the passion on hers. "Aap kyun.."

"Baby kiss me" his voice was a soft murmur, the feel of her bare body in his arms was his undoing. "I've been dying without you, make me feel alive again. Love me jaan...Ishita...meri jaan...don't ever stop."

Her own eyes filled with tears as she lifted parted lips to his, her hands pulling his face down until lips met lips and tongues dueled and clashed. Her chest was crushed against his and he could feel her softness as he plundered her mouth , her hands pulling him closer as his roamed across her back, molding her closer and closer to him.

She moaned deep in her throat as his hands pushed the bunched up material down her waist, until a wisp of lace on her hips was all she was clad in. His fingers touched the lace, but she moved away, laughing, pushing him off as she got off the bed in one swift move.

"No" she whispered, as he lay back on his elbows, watching his wife in renewed awe. "Pehle aap. You're supposed to be learning from me, remember?"

He got up with alacrity, happy to play her game. "But I took that off you" he nodded at her discarded dress.

"Then I'll have to take this off you, won't I?" She grabbed his belt, pulling him to her, and then slowly slid the belt off, her eyes never leaving his. His breath quickened again and he moistened his lips, loving her touch on his waist, the quick intake of her breath as her fingers touched the buttons on his jeans. He brought his hands up to join hers, helping her to open the buttons, shrugging the jeans off his waist as she looked down at him.

He heard the sharply indrawn breath, felt her shudder as she looked up at him in tears, as she saw the ugly scar on his waist for the first time.

"Yahan bhi chot lagi thi kya?" She whispered, horrified, touching his waist with trembling hands. "Mujhe pata nahi tha. Mujhe kisi ne kaha nahi kyun..."
(You were hurt here too? I didn't know. Why didn't anyone tell me?)

"It looks worse than it was baby. It was just a cut."

"Aur kitne patle ho gaye hai aap"
(And you've become so thin)

"Meri Madrassan nahi thi na mere paas pyar se dosa khilane ke liye."
(My madrassan wasn't with me to feed me with her love filled dosas, that's why)

"Raman" she fell into his arms, holding on tight to his waist, head on his chest.

"Hey baby, no tears" the feel of her body was more than he could bear, and he wanted her with every fiber in his being. But his tigress had turned into a kitten, and she was clinging to him in tears now.

"You were teaching me baby, come on. You need to win this game don't you"

"No" she lifted tear soaked eyes to his. "Mein haar jaati hoon har baar. Mujhe nahi jeetna aap se. Bas mujhe kabhi mat chodna Raman. Mujhse hamesha pyar karna" (No, I lose every time. I don't want to win against you. Just don't ever leave me Raman. Love me always.)

"Mein tumhe kabhi haarne nahi doonga meri jaan" he promised, dropping feather like kisses on her cheeks. "Jeet sirf tumhari hogi. Hamesha.'
(I won't ever let you lose my love. You will always win. Always)

"Mujhse hamesha pyaar karoge na?"
(You will love me for ever won't you?)

"Hamesha" he said, lifting her into his arms and covering her lips with his, tongues dueling as they kissed desperately, gasping when they finally drew apart.

He strode to the bed with her and laid her down reverentially, kneeling between her legs as she put a hand up to him, wanting to feel him, all of him.

"Hamesha" he repeated as he took her soft breasts into his mouth, kissing and fondling each in turn, turning from one to the other as she trembled at his touch. First he kissed the soft undersides, then the aueroles that darkened at his touch, and finally the nipples which instantly hardened in his mouth. She clutched the bedsheets as she cried out incoherently, wanting more, wanting all of him. He took her hands to his waist, urging her to pull down his briefs, then it was his turn to gasp as she took his shaft in her hands. She caressed him gently at first, then as she watched the effect on him, she grew bolder, her strokes surer, her caresses more intimate. He was clutching at her, his face flushed, sweat on his brow, her name a whisper on his lips when she took him into her mouth, tasting him, kissing him, caressing the length of him. His face flushed even darker, his breathing grew erratic and he knew he could not hold off much longer. But there was so much more pleasure to give her, and so he rolled off her, pushing her back down on the pillows.

"Hamesha" he gasped as he pulled down the wisp of lace on her hips, his hands cupping her and his caresses moving down as she trembled against his roving fingers. His hands first prepared her, rubbing her softness until she began to tremble, her hands on his head, digging at his scalp and pulling at his hair as his fingers invaded her femininity, entering deep within her, touching, caressing, feeling . All inhibitions were forgotten, all boundaries crossed as he put his mouth on her softness, first kissing her gently and then his tongue exploring her intimately, darting inside her, kissing every inch, caressing without ceasing as she moaned and squirmed in total surrender, and then drinking her up as her body arched in blissful release as waves of pleasure convulsed her.

She lay back as her body exploded in delight, dizzy, incoherent with the wonder of his loving. And he watched her with passion filled eyes, luxuriating in the pleasure he had given to his woman. And then the next moment he had grabbed her again, laughing exultantly as he pulled her on top of himself.

He thrust into her as she held on to his chest and his hips, whimpering in surprised delight as unbearable crescendos of pleasure started to build up in her yet again. He started stroking slowly and then faster, his hips jerking up as she enclosed him within herself, bodies synchronized, moving together in a single rhythm, his cries mingling with hers as pleasure built up faster and faster and bodies trembled and danced in perfect unison. Their lips met, fused, as their pleasure reached its peak and she collapsed on him, both totally spent, both sated with love.

He put his arms around her, holding her close as she snuggled on his chest. She tried to move away but he shook his head, holding her tighter.

"Let me move off you baba" she whispered.

"No love" he murmured sleepily. "Stay here"

"I'm heavy darling. You'll feel sore later."

"No jaan. Not heavy. We fit perfectly." His voice was muffled in her hair, distorted by sleep and he pulled her closer, tightening his arms around her.

"I love you Raman" she whispered as she finally gave in. ' Hamesha"

And so Mr & Mrs Bhalla finally slept.

Jal Jal Ke Dhuan Ho Rahe Hum
Nas Nas Mein Nasha Bheega Hain Mann
Jismo Ki Dabi Aarzoo Hain
Mar Jaaye Teri Baahon Mein Hum

Jal Jal Ke Dhuan Ho Rahe Hum
Nas Nas Mein Nasha Bheega Hain Mann
Jismo Ki Dabi Aarzoo Hain
Mar Jaaye Teri Baahon Mein Hum
Ho Ho Ho Baaho Mein Hum

Aaj Raat Ko Hosh Ki Hain Jaroorat Kaha
Aaj Sharam Se Koi Kehde Na Paaye Yaha
Aaj Raat Ko Hosh Ki Hain Jaroorat Kaha
Aaj Sharam Se Koi Kehde Na Paaye Yaha
Chune Se Tere O Jaaneman
Hota Hain Junoon Deewanapan Nasha

Jal Jal Ke Dhuan Ho Rahe Hum
Nas Nas Mein Nasha Bheega Hain Mann
Jismo Ki Dabi Aarzoo Hain
Mar Jaaye Teri Baahon Mein Hum

Yeh Is Kadar Mil Gaye Hain Hamare Badan
Yeh Bhi Nahi Hain Pata Kaun Tum Kaun Hum
O Yeh Is Kadar Mil Gaye Hain Hamare Badan
Yeh Bhi Nahi Hain Pata Kaun Tum Kaun Hum
Ehsaas Paseene Se Hain Nam Sholo Se Chalakti Hain Shabnam Jara

Jal Jal Ke Dhuan Ho Rahe Hum
Nas Nas Mein Nasha Bheega Hain Mann
Jismo Ki Dabi Aarzoo Hain
Mar Jaaye Teri Baahon Mein Hum

Jal Jal Ke Dhuan Ho Rahe Hum
Nas Nas Mein Nasha Bheega Hain Mann
Jismo Ki Dabi Aarzoo Hain
Mar Jaaye Teri Baahon Mein Hum
Ho Ho Ho Baaho Mein Hum.