Page 75 of Sumanika

After they finished, they began washing their hair. The warm water was turning cold, and I suddenly sneezed.

“We should hurry, or she will catch a cold,” another said, and they began working faster. They washed my hair with soapnut powder and applied oil to nourish it before rinsing it again.

They finally applied gram and sandalwood paste to my skin to soothe the burns and redness, and it felt better.

Honestly, I felt incredibly better after taking a bath. I had never experienced this before. Now, I understood why Nandani was eager to take one—it was so relaxing.

I wrapped a clean, dry white cloth around my body and another around my hair to absorb the moisture.

“You should sit in the sunlight for a while,” one of them said, leading me to the dressing area where sunlight peeked through the window. I sat on the couch and felt the rays soothing my skin. It was amazing, but I began to feel sleepy.

After a while, my body and hair dried, and then I saw an attendee step forward with an outfit in her hand. I took the velvet cloth off the plate and looked at the beautiful orange attire adorned with small beads of deep pink.

“It’s beautiful,” I murmured softly.

“Daadisa asked you to change into it,” she said, and I nodded, taking the dress in my hand.

“You should change; we are waiting outside,” they said. They left, closing the door, and I placed the outfit on the table. It felt even more beautiful than both of my weddings.

It was simply elegant, not overly royal or heavy. I tied my hair in a loose bun and looked at myself in the mirror. Inhaling deeply, I noticed a fresh glow on my skin that I had never seen before. I looked beautiful. I didn’t know what it was, but it looked lovely.

I sucked on my lower lip and opened the skirt to step into it, pulling it up to wrap around my waist, pulling the cloth above simultaneously, and pulling the strings to tighten it. It felt softer than my regular outfits.

I turned around to admire a beautiful flare and a smile spread across my face.

I brought my hand closer to grasp the blouse. Removing the cloth from my bosom, I looked at myself in the mirror. My breasts were large, not excessively so, but larger than medium size—definitely noticeable given my body shape and size. I gulped, ignoring them, as they always made me feel self-conscious about my appearance, and not positively. They were not firm like those of a younger woman but more like those of an adult with children, yet I had no children.

A shady thought suddenly came to my mind, prompting me to look at myself in the mirror again. The tattoo of an eagle on my chest, which had been inked on my skin when I was a year old, looked tempting. My tribe had this tradition of inking skin to keep track of our population. To keep it hidden, they would engrave it on the chests of both genders. It was small, only about an inch big, but beautiful. I wondered if he would like it or not. And what about my bosom?

I gulped, cupping one of my breasts with my hands, and it felt big to my small hands. I remembered his size and wondered if he could cup them.

Urghhhhhh.

I quickly shook my head and shut my eyes to return from that dark place.

My lip needed punishment from my teeth, as it lay between them, and a gentle bite brought me back to reality.

I brought the blouse close to my chest and adjusted it over my breasts before pulling the sleeves up to my shoulder. I looked at the metre-long strings hanging to its back and sighed with slight frustration.

Daadisa wants to live her adulthood through me, again. Urghh.

I tried to tie the strings, but suddenly I felt a clearing of throats, and my eyes widened in shock. A wave of fright ran deep through my body, and my throat dried as I followed the voice, realizing a pair of eyes looking at me, from a couch in the corner, shrouded in the darkness.

A smirk played on his face as he leaned forward, allowing the sun to cast its rays over his deep green eyes. A not-so-old memory invaded my mind. My stomach twisted, and I felt a strange weakness in my knees as he stood up from the couch and walked toward me with his predatory steps.

I gulped nervously, trying to speak.“Wh…what are you doing here? How long have you been… there?”

He picked up a bunch of black grapes from the fruit basket on the table and plucked a few into his mouth. I looked at his well-carved, tight jaw moving against the soft fruit. I tightened my fingers on the back of my blouse to keep both ends secure.

“Before you came inside,” he said slowly, and I felt an unfamiliar tightness in my lower abdomen.

“So, you have… been watching me… change?” I tried to ask, but my voice came out shaky and slow. He leaned back against the dressing table, pressing his hips against its edge, and I lowered my gaze to focus on his sweaty neck and the rolled-up sleeves of his plain, dark blue kurta. His veins were more visible on his arms than ever before.

“Not just changing but…,” he lowered his gaze to my chest, and I felt my buds tightening, blossoming under his attention. “… you, caressing your bosom,”

I gulped, feeling timid suddenly, and looked at him as he popped two more grapes into his mouth, pulling them straight from the bunch. My gaze flickered between his eyes and lips, and suddenly, I felt his hand cupping my cheek, with his fingers and thumb on either side, pulling me closer. My waist pressed against his middle, and my eyes widened in shock at him.

But my lashes lowered as he brought his lips closer and pushed the grapes into my mouth. Water trailed from the corner of my mouth, down to my jaw, and he muttered,“Your throat seems dry.”

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