Darjeeling's it couple is back y'all, the chapter is a bit long (I got carried away and you can tell exactly where lmao)
I am working on the bengali jomidar Rehmat AU oneshot dw, I am struggling with spellings and I can't exactly ask my mother for help with this lmfao thoda time lagega
Mereko batao pls if you liked it lmao I luvvv reading your comments, makes me write faster :P
SMUT so minors SHOOOO pls
A week after Parineeta's confession.
The winter chill has settled upon Bela Sheshe in the same way that Parineeta has envelopped Tarun's heart in her ever-expanding warmth; the temperatures might be around the low tens right now, but having a place in the hearth that is Parineeta's heart, he has never felt such ease in his life. He is convinced she is some sort of test from the universe for everyone whose path she may come across, some goddess incarnate to test the people in the same way it has been described in all pagan traditions, a test Rahul Bhattatcharya and his family of demons failed horribly. But more importantly, the only test Tarun has ever been excited for.
He watches her work on the computer in her office; his vantage point from the sofa is incredible. Kishmish's soft snores fill the silence as Tarun rubs his velvety ears, watching the way Parineeta's slightly upturned nose twitches every time a cool breeze blows in through the windows, which she leaves slightly ajar. Heating rooms is expensive and, more importantly, harmful for the environment, which is reason enough for this woman to wear two layers in her own office. Ever the idealist, he thinks.
"Tarun?" She asks, and he smiles, still staring at her. "Aap bore nahi ho rahe?" Aren't you getting bored?
"Aapko dekh rahe hai," he says simply, his usually stern eyes now sporting an incredible amount of fondness. I'm looking at you.
"Yeh kaisi baat hui?" she chuckles, blushing a little as he gets up from his spot, walking over to her. What do you even mean?
"Darjeeling ka sabse sundar view asalme Bela Sheshe ke office mein hai," he teases, reaching to cup her blushing cheek in his hand. Actually, the most gorgeous view in Darjeeling is found in Bela Sheshe's office.
"Inta bhi flirt karna acchi baat nahi hai," she laughs, and he shakes his head. One should not flirt this much.
"Aapki jitni bhi tareef karun, kaam hojata hai," he sighs, as if it is truly a crisis unfolding in real time, and it makes her laugh freely, the kind of laugh where he can hear happiness radiating through every cell of her body. "Waise humare saath ghumne chalenge?" No matter how much I praise you, it is never enough. Besides, do you want to go out with me?
"Kaha lejayenge?" she smirks. Where will you take me?
He smiles coyly, pretending to fix his hair. "I thought aap leke jayengi," he admits shyly. I thought you'd take us. Her expression softens, leaning into his touch as she nods.
"We will be going to see the Kanchenjunga peaks today," she hums. "We can sneak away from the group then."
His face lights up if that is even possible with the almost absurd smile he has on his face whenever he is around her. "I'd like that."
The cold wind nips at Tarun's face and neck, and he could turn away from the direction in which the wind is blowing, but the one whom his eyes yearn to see all the time is standing in the wind, her arms spread as she takes deep breaths, her cheeks red from the chill, Kishmish on a leash, standing next to her.
"It is redundant to say what I want to say at this point," he says, looking at the view for once.
"Phir bhi boldo," she smiles, finally looking at him. Say it anyway.
"You actually do look resplendent," he chuckles, shaking his head at the stupidity of that statement. She laughs too, taking his hand in hers, and he knows she is only doing this because they are alone.
She does not show affection to him in front of her staff or other guests. He hates that, the implication behind the phrase "other guests", the implication that he, too, is a guest - guest at Bela Sheshe and a guest in Parineeta's heart. He does not talk about it, and she has the kindness not to bring it up either, letting them both live in the deluded hope that what they have can be sustained, can be something they could nurture and grow over the years.
"Chai?" she hums as they walk towards a small tea stall, and he nods, pushing those pervasive thoughts to the back of his head. She approaches the man running the stall with that same easy smile she gives everyone, and Tarun watches, a man mesmerised. "দাদা দু কাপ চা হবে, চিনি কম, অদা দেবেন একটু বেশি করে," she smiles before sitting on the bench and patting the spot next to her. We will have two cups of tea, add a little less sugar and a little more ginger than what is usual.
"Oh, you know," she starts, walking next to him as they sip their tea, Kishmish's leash now tied to two belt loops of her jeans. "I had an idea last night."
"Tell me," he breathes out, puffing out warm air into the cold air like a child, before smiling uncharacteristically. She brings it out in him.
"Plastic surgery is the new makeup," she says casually, and he almost chokes on his tea before chuckling.
"Why are you thinking about that at night?" he chortles.
"Isshire, listen," she smiles, taking his hand in hers. "It is the same principle, changing your appearance in some way to be more attractive, right? It is following the same trend. Makeup used to be for the elites only, but it eventually trickled down to us laymen. Plastic surgery is following the same trend; it used to be something only celebrities and the incredibly wealthy would do, and it was an incredibly hush-hush topic, going under the knife. Nowadays, even upper-middle-class women are getting breast implants, fillers and Botox are so common too. I think it says something very disturbing about our society, how vain we are at the end of the day, to allow someone to slice into your face and body to fit some arbitrary ideal," she explains, looking at him for understanding, and he nods, glancing at the smile lines on her cheeks, the subtle crow's feet near the corners of her eyes.
"Yeah, I agree," he says simply. "My ex-girlfriend used to get lip filler, she was just a normal executive at Unilever" He bites his tongue, regretting that statement.
"Not her fault really, it is a systemic issue, hate the game not the player. Though, if I can ask, why'd you break up?" she asks, not a hint of jealousy in her voice, just mild curiosity and concern. He can choose not to say it, and she will never ask again; he knows the kind of graciousness he is dealing with.
"She uh cheated on me, for a few months before I found out, blamed it all on my work schedule," he says softly, stripping down his defences in front of her the same way she had a week ago. They are naked in front of each other now, their soft, vulnerable bellies turned to each other. If one of them wishes, they could hurt the other very badly; it could turn incredibly ugly at the snap of a finger, but it does not.
"What a bitch," she says softly. "I don't condone cheating unless you are cheating on a cheater, then it is retributive justice, which I am all for."
"It was about five years ago, it does not matter anymore," he smiles, squeezing her hand.
"Still," she sighs. "You did not deserve that."
"You should not feel sympathy for me," he says softly. "I did indeed prioritise work and was not there enough for her."
"Does not give her the right to breach your trust," she shrugs, finishing her tea. He stares at her, just a little shocked. He knows her kindness knows no bounds. Parineeta Thakur's heart aches when a stuffed animal's fur covers its plastic eyes, but to feel bad for him simply because he got cheated on when she has been through hell and back in her own married days. She had not become jaded, no, somehow it had resulted in her becoming almost painfully kind.
"Kiss kar sakta hoon?" he asks after a beat, looking at her, and she nods, tilting her head up, eyes closed. Can I kiss you? He leans in, kissing her gently on the lips, breaks away before pressing a kiss to her forehead. Kishmish barks, seemingly out of happiness.
That night, Tarun finds himself in her office again as she wraps up her work, turning off her computer and closing her notebooks while he stands with Kishmish, holding the same position as the dog, as well, waiting for her to finish her work so they can bask in her love and attention.
"Aapko sona nahi hai kya?" Parineeta teases, turning off the lights one by one. Don't you want to sleep?
"Aapko akele chodna accha nahi lagta," he shrugs, patting Kishmish's head. I don't like leaving you alone.
With the last light turned off, she walks to him, taking his hand in hers. Does not say anything-does not dare to-neither does he. They stand in silence for a few moments, breathing in the same bit of air left in the bare centimetres between their mouths. He kisses her, tentatively, gently. They kiss every day now, but each time he feels his inconsolable need to ask for permission as if his body knows that this is not permanent and immensely fragile, no matter how much he might try to convince himself otherwise. With every kiss, he feels as if he is asking for permission on how much deeper he can shove the knife in her heart and with every time she says yes, she digs her knife deeper into the cavity of his chest, crushing through bone and flesh.
"Mere ghar chalonge?" she whispers against his lips, and he nods almost immediately. Will you come to my home?
She could do anything to him, he thinks as she leads him and Kishmish out of the main building. They walk for almost ten minutes through the cottages on the cobblestone path, then walk through the tea estate to the bungalow at the end. She unlocks the door and Kishmish bolts inside, making a beeline for his water bowl.
"Wait, I need to feed him," Parineeta smiles, taking off her scarf before hanging it on the clothing rack. He nods, sitting on the sage green sofa to wait, and watches her make some elaborate meal for Kishmish. This dog will outlive Tarun most likely.
She returns to him as quickly as she left, taking his hand, and he stands, letting her lead him upstairs to her bedroom. Once there, she kisses him once again, her hands in his hair.
"You know I brought you here to take your clothes off, right?" Parineeta murmurs, and whatever minuscule amount of blood was in his brain also rushes right down. This gorgeous and incredible woman wants to sleep with him, make love to him.
"How are you real?" he whispers, hands reaching the hem of her jumper before he pulls it off her, and for the umpteenth time, she manages to surprise him. She has a beautiful body, full breasts curving into a slim waist before expanding into her supple hips. He cannot help himself as he reaches for her, his hands practically encircling her waist. "Did God take his sweet time making you or something?" he asks, kneeling in front of her as she looks down at him, her hands cupping his face.
"I think the same about your face," she smiles, stroking his cheek. He unbuttons her jeans, pulling them down and leaving her in just her panties and bra, they're matching, a light blue cotton with lace trimmings.
"Did you plan this?" he chuckles, and she nods, looking every bit like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar.
He presses a kiss to the protruding bone of her right hip before standing up again, and it is her turn. She takes off his jacket at first, unzipping slowly. Then, the t-shirt underneath to unveil the hair covering his lithe body, she runs her long fingernails through it gently, leaving a kiss over where his heart is beating almost erratically. Shallow breaths from both of them as she unbuckles his belt and then unzips his pants. He cannot take it anymore when he lowers his pants the rest of the way before kicking them off, kissing her with a hand on her back as he gently lowers her onto her plush bed.
"I really love you, Pari," he says in a guilty voice, kissing her almost reverently. On top of her, she relishes the weight of him pressing her against the mattress.
"I feel the same way about you, Tarun," she murmurs, the confession swallowed by his mouth. He reaches to squeeze her breast gently, and she freezes, her eyes widening for a moment before she returns to normal, thinking he had not noticed. But alas, he had.
"Theek ho?" he asks gently, the same hand now stroking her face, and she nods. Are you alright?
"I didn't uh sleep with anyone after Rahul," she sighs, and he cannot help but admire the courage she has to be confessing such a pervasive secret to him. "Those are my last memories of such an encounter." His eye soften as an anger burns in his sinews towards that monster of a man. Maybe it is not so much courage as it is love, he corrects himself. Her methods of trying to pull the knife out of both of their chests are to give him reasons to leave, to run away from these hills. She loves him to the point of wanting to set him free each time and every time, he turns the lock and throws away the key, waiting for her to weld him a new one, which she manages to do each time.
"He does not deserve that space," he sighs, kissing her again. "Agar tum chahti ho, toh phir hum kar sakte hai, warna I am more than happy to cuddle with you like this. Perhaps minus the bra, it looks uncomfortable for you," he teases her at the end, easing the tension a little. If you want, we can continue; otherwise...
"I really want to," she smiles, kissing the hook of his nose. "With you." He nods, kissing her again, somehow even gentler, his hand not squeezing her breast but gently stroking it, his index finger focused on the nipple.
He takes off her bra first and then her panties, leaving her entirely bare as he leans down to kiss her neck, then her chest, a kiss on each breast. His mouth travels lower, kissing down the column of her sternum, down the middle of her ribs, onto her stomach, and then one on each protruding hip bone before reaching the wet and wanting core, pressing a kiss onto her pubic bone before licking a stripe over her folds.
"Ah!" she moans, immediately arching her back, and he reaches one hand to press down on her lower belly
"Itni sundar ho aap," he whispers before going back down on her, his tongue relentless as he alternates between sucking her clit and fucking her with his tongue. You are so beautiful. Her moans fill the room as she writhes on the bed, her hands in his hair, not to guide him but to ground herself.
A few minutes is all it takes to make her cum with his mouth, and as she finishes, she lets out a loud and strangled cry of his name, her hands fisting in his hair, which makes a pleasurable sort of pain shoot through his body as he continues to eat her out, helping her ride it out. He climbs back up onto her, kissing her.
"Do you have condoms?" he asks her gently, stroking her hair as her breathing starts to even.
"I brought them here last night," she says in a shaky voice. "Usually keep them in my office for the guests." He cannot help but let out an amused laugh. This woman has been planning this for more than twenty-four hours, and he had not one clue about it all.
He gets off her and checks the nightstand, sure enough, Durex extra-thins. He takes one of the foil packets and rips it open, rolling it on. He is rock-hard and now painfully aware of it as he climbs back on top of her, lining himself against her.
"Tell me if it hurts," he whispers, kissing her as he pushes in slowly, letting her feel the devastatingly satisfying stretch of every inch. He is a well-endowed man, no doubt about that, but her almost decade-long dry spell definitely adds to how tight she is now. "You feel so good, meri jaan," he breathes out, bottoming out inside her wet heat.
"Move," she murmurs, kissing him, and he does, slowly beginning to thrust in and out of her as she wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. He moves in a slow rhythm.
The sound of damp skin hitting against damp skin fills the room, their moans lost in each other's mouths, drowning the turbulent ocean of the thrill and passion between them as his thrusts start to get harsher, faster. She bucks her hips against his, crying out for more! Harder! More!
They finish together, she finishes first, and the look of sheer pleasure in her eyes with her vice-like grip on his cock throws him over the edge as he shoots out ropes of white inside the rubber, biting down a bit harshly on the ball of her shoulder, her nails digging into his back painfully.
He pulls out of her, breathing heavily as he sits up and takes off the condom, tying it off in a knot and throwing it into the bin. Lies down next to her and pulls her close, kissing the top of her head.
"Go to sleep, I love you," he says with a smile he cannot seem to wipe off his face. She nods tiredly, curling up against him as her breathing slows and her body gets heavier against him. His phone vibrates in the pocket of his discarded pants on the bed, and he reaches for it slowly, desperately trying not to wake her up. He opens it, and a slew of messages from one of his associates appear on the screen.
"SIR SIR SIR GOOD NEWS!"
"WE APPEALED, AND THEY ARE LIFTING YOUR SUSPENSION STARTING JANUARY INSTEAD OF MARCH!"
"I've attached the notice! Come home!"
His heart drops. January is in barely three weeks, and December has just started. He looks down at Parineeta, soundly asleep in his arms, not a clue about what has just transpired. Tears well in his eyes. This bridge was not supposed to appear on this path until another three months later. How would he tell her?
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