Title: Dark Horse: Chapter Ten, Embracing Love
Rating: NC-17 [language, drugs, sex]

Summary: George and Sitara spend alone time, with the aid of Kanti distracting Donovan...





Cradled in George’s arms, hidden from the world in a large stone beehive-like structure, Sitara felt safe and protected. It was not like the so-called protection from her father. George’s arms certainly were not walls. She could tell as she nuzzled him, that he would never restrain her, smother her, cage her. Her soul felt calmer and more at ease in his arms than she could ever imagine before.

Alternatively, Donovan awakened an unknown fire in her veins. He made her heart race and blood boil. When he was near, especially when he touched or kissed her, Sitara wanted to run away and hide ― with him. It was confusing and exciting all at the same time.

“Sita,” George muttered, bringing her attention back to the present, “should I walk you back to your room now?”

“Why? Do you need to be somewhere?”

“...Not exactly,” he responded. “I just thought, perhaps, Kanti expected you back.”

“I’m sure she and Cyn have forgotten completely about me.”

“How could anyone forget about you?” George breathed, kissing her softly.

Sitara paused for a long moment, soaking in the emotions his kisses fostered, “I just want to stay here forever.”

“I can think of more comfortable places...”

Her eyes widened, “Oh no. I should get out of your lap.”

“No, you’re fine. I just thought if you didn’t want me to walk you back to your room we could...”

“Go back to yours?” she offered.

George hesitated for a moment, “You sure about that?”

“If we go back to mine, we’ll have Kanti and Cyn to contend with. You have a private room now...”

“If you’re certain, then we should. I’d like to be able to see you.”

A few minutes later, Sitara laid down on George’s bed. He sat nearby on the floor, reaching for his sitar. Turning on her side, she smiled as he curved around the instrument. Though he did not have much training on the instrument at all, something about the way he played it, tickled Sitara’s soul. She sighed happily, tucking her hands under her head. As he continued to play, she drifted to sleep.

Glancing up after getting lost in his playing for nearly an hour. He instantly noticed that Sitara slept, her eyelids slightly twitching. Afraid to ruin her dreams by stopping his song, George continued to play for a few minutes. Slowly finding the natural ending of his melody, he set aside the Indian instrument and slowly got to his feet. Struggling to decide if he should wake Sitara or turn off the light and sleep on the floor beside her, George’s eyes wandered over her sleeping form. Every single curve of her petite form was beautiful. Never before had he seen such a beautiful girl.

Eyes fluttering open, she stretched slightly. Her emerald green gaze met his and she smiled. Remaining on her side, Sitara beckoned to him. George stepped forward and leaned down, his lips gently touching hers.

“You need me to leave so that you can sleep?” she asked softly.

“I wish you to stay,” he responded. “I will sleep on the floor.”

“Nonsense,” Sitara declared. “There is plenty of room in this bed for both of us.”

“Um...”

To illustrate her statement, she shifted on the bed, making a clear space for him. For only a fraction of a moment, George hesitated. He flicked off the light and hurried over to the bed. Carefully he climbed in the bed next to her. With some maneuvering to get the light blanket out from underneath them, Sitara spooned George from behind, her arms slipping around him.

“See? A perfect fit,” she breathed in his ear, her hands on his chest.

“Are you sure? I would be okay on the floor.”

“Nonsense. If this will not do, then I will return to my own room.”

“No,” his arms folded over hers, “stay. Please.”

Waking at dawn with small arms wrapped lightly around his waist, George smiled. He had not expected her to stay, but it filled him with so much positivity. He could not remember the last time he woke in such a wonderful mood. Generally he was in a good mood in the early hours of the day, but never quite like this. Without any better way to describe it, he felt as if the arms gently embracing him was Heaven itself enveloping him. Yet as soon as that thought crossed his mind, her arms withdrew from around him and she rolled away to stretch.

Carefully George turned over as well. His arm slipped over her abdomen and he snuggled close, sharing the pillow she rested on. Looking over her face as the morning light began to illuminate the room, he smiled and kissed the corner of her curvy lips. Her mouth twitched into a smile, but she refused to open her eyes, though he knew she was awake.

“I’m so lucky you stayed,” he muttered, kissing her smile. “I haven’t slept like that... in ages.”

“I never have,” she confessed.

“No?”

“I mean... I’ve only shared a bed with Kanti. And normally a large one, though we did sleep together here the other night,” she explained.

George quickly suppressed the erotic images that shot through his mind at her statement, “You’ve never shared a bed with anyone else?”

“No.”

“Your father’s virginity test was not hyperbolic?”

“No.”

He sighed, “Sita... let me take you from here, show you the world.”

She chuckled uncomfortably, “Because I’ve never shared my bed with anyone?”

“Because you’re kept in a cage, oppressed.”

“George...”

“You don’t have to agree to it right now,” he declared and kissed her softly again. “But I hope you will.”

“George...”

He kissed her again, “Should we go get breakfast?”

“I... should probably go change before we do that.”

George’s lips brushed hers once before settling to kiss her deeply. His fingers caressed her cheek, gently tracing down to hold her chin. Lips parting, Sitara sighed happily before meeting his kiss with passion. He shifted slightly in the bed, moving closer to her. As his body responded to her kiss, George ended it and rolled onto his back, not wanting to scare her with his arousal.

“George?” she turned on her side, confusion filling her voice.

He inhaled deeply, “Just give me a moment.”

Sitara turned on her side and snuggled against him, “Do we have to go to breakfast?”

He smirked, “And what would you rather do?”

“This is nice.”

His fingers reached up and played with her soft hair, “It is. But your friend will wonder about your safety.”

She sighed, “I suppose she might be worried already.”

“You should go and assure you that you are indeed not.”

“...in a mo...”



Heading back to the apartment with Sitara, as the younger woman agreed to teach the British women some dance steps and needed a few items, Kanti remained silent. Though Cynthia retreated to her own room not long after they returned to the apartments the night before and thus was unaware of Sitara’s absence the entire night, Kanti certainly knew. She remained awake as long as she could, falling asleep not long after four in the morning. Waking a few hours later to an empty room, instantly awakened all of her worries. Sitara had yet to say anything about the night, but that was expected as they had yet to be alone. However, Kanti was not about to allow the night to pass without explanation.

As the door closed behind them, Kanti instantly asked, “What happened?”

Sitara moved to her suitcase, “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play coy with me. What happened last night? You never came back.”

Her green eyes flicked to her best friend, “Nothing. I just fell asleep in George’s room.”

“After sex,” Kanti added.

She stared at her for a moment, not blinking, “Um, no.”

“Bullshit! You totally had sex with him.”

“I did not! We sat up in one of the meditation hives for awhile and then he played his sitar for me in his room. I fell asleep in his bed,” Sitara explained.

“And then he climbed in with you, woke you up, parted your legs and―”

“NO!” she interrupted. “George slept next to me, yes. But we didn’t have sex. Our clothes stayed on.”

“Uh huh,” she folded her arms across her chest and stared at her best friend, clearly not believing at all.

“Ugh,” Sitara rolled her eyes. “Do you want to check?”

Kanti considered the question for a minute before responding, “Yes.”

Her eyes widened, “Are you serious? Why does it even matter to you if I had sex with George or not?”

“Because he’s a married man and you deserve more than to be some fling he has just for the hell of it.”

“George isn’t like that.”

She stared at her best friend, saying nothing.

“He isn’t!”

“Prove it.”

Sitara sat down on her bed, abandoning her search for ankle bells, and hiked her skirt up until her panties were exposed. Laying back, she arched up her hips and removed her panties, tossing them aside. With her hands on her thighs, she spread her legs wide, waiting for Kanti to act. The other woman stepped forward and pulled Sitara’s skirt back down.

“You’ve made your point,” Kanti declared.

“I don’t understand you,” Sitara sat back up. “You convince me to sneak out and run away, but then once we get here, you―”

“I just want to protect you, Sita,” she declared, reaching up to smooth down the other woman’s hair.

She sighed, “I don’t need to be protected. I have been all my life. I’d even say that I’ve been overprotected.”

Kanti nodded, “You have been. I suppose... I suppose old habits die hard. I have been entrusted with seeing that you’re safe for so long that it has second nature to me. I will try to not be so...”

“Just be my friend, Kanti.”

“Of course. Your very best friend.”

Sitara leaned over and kissed her friend quickly before getting up to retrieve her panties, “George is special, Kanti.”

“He’s married.”

“I know.”

“And you’re friends with his wife.”

“I know that too,” she dropped her skirt again once her undergarment was in place. “And who is waiting for me to come show her some dance moves. Come on. Let’s find the bells and hurry back.”



Seated away from the larger group, but still within hearing distance, Sitara sat on a large boulder. Her emerald green eyes focused on the river seen through the trees. She did not miss what was her home, not in the least. Nearly a week into staying at the ashram, she had developed a quasi-routine. During the day, she spent most of her time with the women. Most of the time was spent reading or chatting about pop culture, exposing Sitara to a world she never really knew, between periods of sunbathing, meditating, or learning Indian dance from the pretty heiress. However, she would break away for stolen moments when Donovan would either play songs, tell her fantastical stories, or recite poetry ― between stealing kisses. Evenings she slipped away with George at sunset, only Kanti ever aware of her whereabouts. More often than not, she fell asleep wherever they were, requiring George to rouse her to get her back to bed.

The sun had not yet set on the Ganges River, but after a day of dancing, yoga, and Scottish fairy tales, Sitara needed time away from the group. Kanti read her best friend’s body language and aura, intercepting Donovan before he could steal away to usurp the dancer’s alone time. The folksinger looked down at the Indian woman, trying to read her dark eyes but finding her far more difficult to read than Sitara.

“Leave her be.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because,” Kanti responded, “she needs time alone. We did not come all this way to be constantly attended.”

“But ―”

“I understand that you believe yourself to be in competition with George for Sita’s affections,” she stated, “but you needn’t be worried about such things.”

He regarded her for a moment, “And why is that?”

“You’re not married.”

“Ah,” he smiled, stepping closer. “Then I ought to go charm her now, while she is away from him.”

“No. As I said, she needs some time alone.”

“Well, Mother Hen, perhaps a bit of your time then?”

“Why?” she asked suspiciously. “Shouldn’t you be playing with the others?”

“I’ve had enough of that for today,” Donovan glanced at the larger group. “And it seems as if John and George are in their own little world.”

Kanti remained silent, folding her arms over her chest.

“You need to lighten up, Kanti,” he declared. “Come smoke with me.”

She hesitated for a moment, glancing at Sitara.

“Don’t worry. Sita will be just fine where she is.”

A few minutes later, Kanti sat on the floor in Donovan’s room, watching as he rolled a thick, white cigarette. With a small smile, he handed it to her, letting her light it and take the first puff. She inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and handed it to the folksinger. He smirked again, watching her hold the breath for a long moment before finally inhaling.

Halfway through the joint, the Indian woman laid back, “Decent.”

“Decent?” he exhaled and passed it back to her. “Only the best. From Nepal.”

Kanti inhaled the hash but did not return it to Donovan, “I’ve had better.”

“I don’t believe you,” he stole the joint away from her lips.

Before she could say anything in response, Donovan’s lips crashed down upon hers. He greedily kissed her for a moment, his tongue battling hers. Completely stoned, Kanti did not fight his advances at all. Rather she pushed up from the floor and quickly pinned him down. Kissing him as passionately as he kissed her, she plucked the joint from his fingers, sat up still straddling him, and smoked the last of his hash. No longer caring about the drug, Donovan reached up and cupped her breasts. With a sly smile, Kanti began to grind against him, causing his fingers to tighten their grip.

“You wanna fuck?” she asked.

“You don’t need me to answer that,” he responded huskily.

Leaning down, she gently bit his ear, “If I fuck you, will you leave Sita alone?”

“That’s not for you to decide.”

She reached down between them and groped him before repeating, “If I fuck you, will you leave Sita alone?”

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, his body twitching in her hand. “Fuck me.”

“Will you leave Sita alone?”

“Anything. I’ll. Do. Anything. Just fuck me,” he muttered.

Smiling triumphantly, Kanti released his cock and quickly pulled his loose shirt off. They kissed sloppily while he helped remove her top. As his hands and mouth focused on her newly exposed breasts, her hands slipped between them once more, this time guiding his erection over the top of his loose pants. With a giggle and a growl, she pushed him back towards the floor. Hands on her calves, Donovan watched as the Indian woman held up his cock and sank down on it. Unable to see their connection as her full skirt quickly covered it, he closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of her body tightly gripping his. Then she began to move and he lost all semblance of thought.

He released his orgasm deep into her body a few minutes later. His eyes flashed open and met her gaze before she leaned down and kissed him, still grinding on his body. As she bit his bottom lip hard, Donovan knew their tryst had just begun. That excited him more than he could admit ― at least enough to make him fully erect again.



Hearing a twig snap loudly behind her, Sitara tried to conceal her surprise. A hand gently touched her shoulder and she knew without turning who had slipped upon her. Rather than turn, her hand covered his, gently squeezing. He moved around the boulder, his hand pivoting to hold hers rather than rest on her shoulder. Silently, he sat beside her, his eyes focused on hers though she remained intent on the river.

“It is amazing how calm the water becomes just as the sun sets,” she commented softly.

“I have never noticed that before,” he responded.

Her green eyes flicked briefly to him, a smile touching her lips, “Life seems quietest at dusk.”

“I don’t know about that,” he replied. “It seems quieter at dawn, when most everyone sleeps.”

“But monkeys and birds,” she smiled a bit more, her gaze returning to the river.

“And sometimes, beautiful girls,” his fingers released hers, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“George, the others...”

He glanced behind them, “Have mostly gone to bed. Those who remain, don’t pay any attention to us.”

“...I should go to bed as well.”

His eyes went to her face, quickly looking over the features he could see in profile, “If you wish... I shall walk you back to your room.”

“Soon. I want to see the moon rise first,” she declared.

His lips twitched briefly in a smile before he turned back to facing the river, “Today the Maharishi talked about embracing love in our lives, how doing so is what God wants and brings more of the Divinity into our lives.”

“Embracing love can never be a bad thing,” Sitara responded, “regardless of what you hope to gain by doing so.”

He leaned over and whispered, “Then I should embrace you and never let you go.”