Forbidden Jewel of India

Nick had sat down on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots. He raised one eyebrow, but stood and opened his arms. ‘If you wish. And then I will return the favour.’

‘Oh, no, I must disrobe for you.’ He was in Indian dress and she began by untucking the end of his turban and coiling it neatly into her hands.

‘There are rules?’ He shrugged out of his coat as she finished with the buttons and she folded it across a chair. Like him she was wearing tight trousers and a long jacket and had ridden astride, but today their clothes were cut from luxurious silks and brocades to mark the wedding journey.

‘Of course.’ Anusha pulled Nick’s shirt from the waistband of his trousers and over his head so his hair fell across his face and he had to shake it back.

Has he any idea how magnificent he looks? Anusha ran her hands over the flat planes of his chest, teased the tight knots of his nipples with the pressure of her palms, then drew her fingers down the hard muscles and over the flat stomach to the drawstrings of his trousers. Under her hands she felt his skin tighten and smiled.

‘What is it?’ She could smell the faint musk of aroused male, the tang of sweat from their journey, the spice of his skin.

‘Do you remember, in the bathhouse?’

‘I recall a rather incompetent attendant with cold hands and very little technique.’ He sounded amused, but his breath caught when she pushed the trousers over his hips and let her hands run down his flanks. His erection sprang free and Anusha closed her eyes as she caressed it with both hands in one long stroke before pressing him back.

‘My lord should lie down.’ For a moment she thought he would simply seize her, but Nick took a deep breath and did as she bade him. Reclining on the swinging bed in arrogant unconcern for his aroused nudity, he took her breath away.

‘I am sorry I was so clumsy in the bathhouse,’ Anusha

apologised. ‘I had come out of curiosity and then I touched you and I was undone.’

‘I think I was undone the moment I laid eyes on you,’ Nick murmured.

‘Truly?’ She took off her turban and freed her hair, swinging her head so it fell free over her shoulders. ‘I should not be wearing these clothes,’ she added, suddenly aware that this was not how she should appear before her new husband.

‘I could not agree more,’ Nick said with a wicked chuckle that had her blushing and laughing as she shed her few garments. It was impossible to do so with the erotic expertise she knew she should display, but he did not appear displeased with what he saw. But then, Nick had seen her naked before, she thought, suddenly feeling more confident.

‘My lord will bathe now?’

‘My lord and his lady will bathe.’ Nick got up, swept her into his arms—he appeared to enjoy doing that, Anusha thought with a smile—and walked down the steps into the pool. It was deep enough to cover him to the chest when he sat down, laughing at her struggles as the cool water washed over her hot skin.

His laughter died away as he looked into her eyes and she gazed back, drowning in the green depths and the love she saw there. Her love, her English gentleman, her noble man. It was her last coherent thought before he took her mouth and his hands began to move, sure and subtle, weaving magic out of water and oils as he caressed her and bathed her.

‘I should be washing you,’ Anusha protested when she had the strength and was floating, languorous and yet tingling with arousal.

‘I am at your disposal.’ Nick laid his arms along the marble surround and slid down until his head rested on the edge and his hair drifted around him, gold silk on the surface of the water.

Anusha oiled and stroked, her hands caressing over skin roughened with hair, puckered by old scars, smooth as polished stone. She massaged his long legs, then, greatly daring, took a deep breath and went under the water to take him in her mouth.

Nick shuddered, arched and she used her tongue and her lips while her breath lasted and finally surfaced, seeing stars and little else through a curtain of wet hair.

‘Oh, my love.’ Nick moved fast. She was wrapped in towels and somehow he had flung some on the swinging bed, for she landed on thick cotton, as Nick fell full length beside her, setting the whole thing swaying.

‘There are many subtle things we can do on this bed,’ he said as he pushed the wet hair carefully from her face. Anusha nodded, hoping she could interpret the illustrated texts well enough to satisfy him whilst her legs were trembling and her heart was beating like a tabla.

‘But I do not think,’ Nick said between kisses as he bent his head to her breast, ‘that I am going to attempt any of them today. I intend to be a straightforward Englishman and simply worship you.’