While he freed his cock, she took off her panties, got onto the bed on her hands and knees, and tugged her petticoat up to her waist, baring herself to him completely. “Now!”
He grasped her hips with one hand and teased her clit with the fingers of the other, his cock nudging against her entrance. “You are so fucking hot.”
He knew her body well, knew just how to make her come fast, how to make her plead, how to make her scream. What he was doing felt so good, and it just kept getting better, pleasure building inside her, clever fingers the source of her bliss.
In this position, all she could do was take it.
He nudged her knees wider apart, entered her with a slow, deep thrust, moaning as their bodies came together. “God, Shanti.”
And then he was moving, thrusting deep and hard, his fingers still busy with her clit. It felt good, so good… the ache sweet… carrying her higher… tension drawing tight inside her.
She shattered, coming with a cry, ecstasy carrying her away. When her climax had passed, he took hold of both of her hips and drove into her hard, groaning as he came inside her. They collapsed on the bed, laughing.
Connor settled onto his back, his pants still down, and drew her into his arms. “I don’t know about you, but I feel a hell of a lot better.”
“Oh, yeah.Somuch better.”
“My baby girl—a bride.”Shanti’s mother kissed her cheek. “Look at you.”
Shanti had decided to wear a sari of white lace and silk, one that combined the traditions of both of her countries. Thepallu—the part that would drape over her shoulder—was translucent with white lace flowers. Her blouse, which stopped just below her ribs, had little cap sleeves of matching white lace.
“Do you think Connor will like it?”
“Oh, honey, he is going to go out of his mind when he sees you. That man loves you more than life itself. I get choked up even thinking about it.”
Shanti reached for her veil—an elbow-length veil of silk tulle with lace flowers across the bottom. She would pin it just above the beautiful bun her mother’s stylist had made for her.
“Hold off on that for a minute.” Her mother took the veil, set it back. “I think your father wants to speak with you.”
A knock.
Her father stepped inside, his gaze moving over her. “My sweet girl. Don’t you look beautiful? I wish your grandparents had lived to see this.”
Shanti wished that, too. “Don’t make me cry, Daddy. It will wreck my makeup.”
He sat, motioned for her to sit beside him, a good-sized wooden box in his hands. “These belonged to your grandmother’s grandmother and so on, going back to the Eighteenth Century. They would have gone to my sister, but … I have saved them all this time for this special day.”
Shanti opened the box—and stared, the breath leaving her lungs in a rush. “Oh!”
On a lining of red velvet sat a necklace, bracelets, ahair ornament, and matching earrings, all of them made of gold and set with diamonds, rubies, and little pearls.
“Your ancestors were Barendra Brahmins and very wealthy. These jewels are all that remains of their ancient wealth.”
Shanti’s vision blurred. “You want me towearthese?”
“How does it go—something old, something new…? These are very old. They are twenty-two karat gold. The stones and pearls are real.
“You’ll have to help me.” Shanti had never worn anything so valuable—or heavy.
“This is amaang tikka.” Her mother clipped the hair ornamentinto her bun and rested the fine golden chain in her part so that the gem-encrusted ornament hung against her forehead. Her father took the heavy necklace and draped it around her throat, fastening the clasp. Her mother slipped the bracelets over her wrists. The earrings were so heavy they came with gold wires that went over and behind her ears for extra support.
“Oh, Shanti, look at you.” Her mother put on her veil.
Shanti stood and walked to the mirror, seeing her reflection for the first time. If it hadn’t been her face, she wouldn’t have recognized herself. She looked like a bride, but not a typical American bride. She was the child of two cultures, of two countries, and both of them shone in her reflection.
Her father kissed her on the top of her head. “When you walk down the aisle today, you walk with all the generations of your family.”
Shanti hugged her parents, fighting tears. “Thank you. I love you both so much.”