Lingual Exploration
Posted by DiF on Sunday, August 14, 2011 Under: Valentine's
Title: Lingual Exploration
Characters: George Harrison, Sitara Barlow, Donovan Leitch, Kanti Singh
Word Count: 5,226
Rating: R [drugs, sexual situations]
Warnings/Spoilers/Summary: George and Sita are thousands of miles apart for this lover's holiday, but that does not mean they won't celebrate it. Donovan happens to be out wandering the world again, and happens to stop by to see Sita. Set a year in advance of the epic, so there are spoilers.
February 1969
With over five thousand miles between them, George bemoaned the fact he could not hold and kiss Sitara that day. He had hoped to get out of the country to see her, but band responsibilities kept him firmly in London. Attempting to head to the airport after the rooftop concert failed him. He was stuck in England; she was stuck in India. While he could have brushed it off as if she did not know much about the holiday, he knew he could not just be lazy about it. Just because she was sheltered in India did not mean she was completely clueless. Besides, by then she should have received his letter.
After stopping by the studio early in the morning but not staying for more than a few minutes as Paul was there, George headed back home. He greeted Pattie vacantly before heading into his room. Without pause, he picked up the phone and dialed through to India. Though a patient man, he could not stand the lag in connecting to the Jaipur house.
“Namaste.”
Recognizing the voice instantly, he smiled, “Namaste, Meena. Is Sitara available?”
There was a long pause, “Did you send her flowers?”
He grinned, “Perhaps.”
“There is not enough room in her quarters for what you send her.”
“Oh yeah?” he slipped a cigarette into his mouth and lit it. “She was only supposed to receive a dozen.”
“Then perhaps you should discuss how many are in a dozen next time, Mr. Harrison.”
He chuckled, “I will consider that. Can I speak with her?”
“Please hold.”
Grinning, he sucked on his cigarette and propped his feet up on the desk. The number of flowers, though not yet confirmed, did not surprise him. He had ordered a dozen of every color available at the florist. Perhaps, he should have specified which flower when placing such an order. He wondered what flower filled her rooms.
“Hello?”
“Hello, love.”
“George! Thank you for the flowers!”
“I wish I could give hand them to you in person, perhaps with a song or two.”
She giggled slightly, “I do not think you could carry so many flowers.”
“Ah, Meena was not being hyperbolic then?”
“Every surface of my room has flowers on it. It smells like a slice of floral heaven in here.”
He smiled again, “I wish I could share it with you.”
“Perhaps sometime soon.”
Her words instantly lifted his hopes and he sat up fully, his feet returning to the floor, “Are you going to be in London soon?”
“No… I do not think so. I would like to, but… you know he will not let me leave.”
“But, love, it was months ago. Has he not relaxed?”
“Oh no. Not at all. I am still not even allowed out in town without his appointed guards.”
He frowned, “Slip over the fence?”
“Only if you were waiting to catch me on the other side.”
“I can be there in,” he glanced at the clock, “a few hours. Meet me at midnight?”
She did not respond, keeping completely silent.
“Say the word and I will meet you over the fence at midnight.”
“That’s an all day flight, George, if you can even find passage on one. I really don’t think – ”
“Baby, I’m a Beatle. It will happen.”
She sighed, though she was grinning, “Then over the wall at midnight.”
“I will see you tonight, love.”
After hanging up with Sitara, George quickly rang the office and informed them of his immediate need to get to Jaipur. With a pleased smile, he finished his cigarette before standing to go pack for his sudden trip to India.
Lounging in her gardens, peacocks roaming about, Sitara turned another page in her book. Completely restricted from the outside world, she once more relied heavily upon books. George sent her at least one a week, though she always finished it in a couple of days. Book after book in her own library had been flipped through enough times that she now resorted to slipping books out of her father’s library when he was not looking. If not for visitations by girls known to her father, by her father’s permission, she would truly feel as if she was locked inside a prison, not palatial walls.
However, that day she did not expect any visitors – save for George’s secret night meeting. When one of her maids approached, she instantly presumed her father sent for her. Pressing an envelope into the spine of her book, Sitara closed it and sat up properly, waiting for directions.
“Mistress, you have a visitor. Shall I bring him to you here?”
“He?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “Shall I escort him here?”
“Who is he?”
“He says he is a friend of yours.”
“I see,” she set her book on the nearby end table. “Invite him in. We will take tea out here.”
“Yes, mistress,” she bowed slightly and hurried off.
Curious as to whom her visitor could be and certain her father would not like a male visitor, Sitara ran her fingers through her hair, untangling her soft curls. While she would have liked to hurry back to her room to truly fix her appearance, her finger styling and brushing the shallow wrinkles from her silk dress would do. Her visitor would have to forgive her, as he was truly unexpected.
“Why hello, beautiful girl,” a soft and very familiar greeted, drawing her eyes up from her skirts.
With a grin, she jumped to her feet, “Donovan!”
They embraced happily, his lips brushing hers. Surprised to see him, she found words did not tumble from her lips. Instead, her hand folded over his and she tugged him to sit with her on the chaise bench.
“I did not know you were in India,” she commented softly, her fingers spreading his out in her hand.
“I am on a bit of a wander-about,” he remarked.
“And that somehow brought you here?”
“No,” he lifted her hand to his lips. “Your beauty brought me here.”
She flushed slightly and pulled her hand free, “Stay for tea?”
“I would love to.”
Sipping tea, the two told stories of the past few months since their last visit. Though he often called and sometimes wrote a letter, they did not communicate as often as she and George did, giving them many topics to discuss over tea. Donovan brushed her fingers when reaching for tea and sought out other excuses to touch her. Sitara noticed every touch, but said nothing.
His hand grasped hers once more, as the tea service was removed an hour later. Without anyone near to see them, he tilted her head up and kissed her lips gently. Sitara smiled but pulled away before he could deepen the kiss. Freeing her hand from his, she stood and moved to a different seat. Not to be put off, Donovan followed her to the new seat. He glanced around and immediately noticed their new seat concealed them from view of the house behind a flower-filled screen.
With a smile, Donovan’s hand rested on her knee as he leaned over and kissed her temple. Her eyes fluttered close, her lips parting. His hand traced up her thigh, softly rubbing as his lips gently kissed towards her mouth. As she relaxed, he continued to rub her leg and deepened the kiss. Sitara’s hand went to his shoulder, her fingers tightened slightly as his touches continued.
“Don…” she breathed as his lips moved to suck on her earlobe.
“Yes,” he nibbled gently.
“You should…”
His hand nudged her legs apart and cupped her sex, “Yes?”
“Ohhhh…”
He grinned and kissed her mouth deeply again, “What should I do?”
“Ohhhh… you should… stop.”
His hand left her sex and moved to her hip, pulling her to the edge of the bench. Her green eyes remained focused on him as he knelt in front of her. Not entirely sure what he was doing but feeling as if her body was on fire, Sitara did not protest. Smiling up at her, Donovan’s fingers gripped the bottom hem of her skirt. His hands dipped under the silk fabric, his fingertips caressing her legs. Slowly, he continued up. Still smiling, he leaned down and kissed her exposed knees. She gasped as his fingers pushed further up, revealing her toned thighs.
“Don…”
He leaned forward and kissed her soft thighs, “Yes?”
“I…”
Donovan inched her skirt up a bit more. His eyes left hers and flicked down to the juncture of her thighs. Biting his lip, one hand caressed up her thigh and shifted over to her panty-covered sex. A soft moan left her lips as his thumb pressed down into her warmth, searching for her clitoris.
“Dono…”
“Mistress!” her companion, Kanti, suddenly appeared.
Sitara gasped and pulled her skirt down, not caring that Donovan was still between her legs, “Kanti!”
“Sorry, Sita,” she muttered, looking away with a deep blush as Donovan returned to sitting properly next to Sitara. “Your father…”
“What does he want?”
“You… dinner…”
“Excuse me?” she snatched her hand away before Donovan could grasp it.
“He is having a potential suitor over for dinner,” she quickly answered, still avoiding looking at the two. “You need to plan the menu and dress appropriately.”
Sitara frowned, “And if I do not want to?”
“Mistress…”
“Fine, fine,” she stood. “I will do it. But Donovan will attend as well – as my guest.”
Donovan smirked, but said nothing.
“Of course, Mistress,” the young woman looked to the Scotsman.
“Don,” Sitara turned to his, “I need to go take care of things. I hate to leave you alone for… awhile, but Kanti can see that you are kept company.”
“Oh really?” his eyebrows arched up, his gaze quickly appraising the maid.
“I shall try to be speedy,” she declared, her fingers turning his face to hers. “Try to behave yourself.”
“Whatever do you mean, love?”
Sitara quickly kissed him, “I will see you at dinner.”
As her father continued to entertain the father of her would-be suitor, Sitara grabbed Donovan’s hand and led him out into the garden. Pulling him as out of the light of the house, she dropped his hand and began to stroll casually through the night garden. Flowers that normally did not bloom during sunlit hours filled the gardens with sweet, soft fragrances. Her long fingers trailed down, catching petals as she continued to walk. Keeping a few paces behind her, Donovan fished out a hand-rolled cigarette and lit it.
Reaching the end of the path, Sitara turned and met his eyes. A soft breeze lifted the scent of his smoke to her. She smiled crookedly, knowing full-well he did not smoke tobacco. He slowly approached her, stopping close enough to easily kiss her. Lowering his joint to the side, he leaned forward and did just that, the tip of his tongue gliding briefly over her lips.
“I am sorry about this evening. I know you did not come here to be subjected to Indian courting,” she stated softly.
“It was intriguing,” he stole another kiss. “But moreover, you are beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she flushed slightly. “Was Kanti good company?”
“Oh the best.”
“Oh?”
He inhaled his joint deeply, “She was very energetic and eager to please.”
Sitara eyed him suspiciously, “You had sex with her.”
“Who me? No, never.”
She playfully pushed his shoulder, “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not,” he responded seriously.
“And I do not believe you, but it matters not. She will tell me.”
He stared at her and inhaled one of the final puffs of his joint, “Will she now?”
“We tell each other everything. She is my best friend.”
“Everything?”
“Mmmhmmm,” she responded and turned away from him, moving over to a stone bench. “Everything.”
“So then,” he sat beside her and discarded what little was left of the joint before placing his hand on her knee, “she should not have been surprised to find us in the garden earlier.”
“Perhaps…” her hand covered his, keeping it from wandering.
He leaned over, kissed her ear, and whispered, “What naughty things have you talked about?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sitara replied dismissively, her eyes closing.
“Do you talk about sex?” he whispered.
“Don…”
“Sitara!” an older woman called.
Sitara pulled abruptly away from Donovan, “I’m sorry. This is good night.”
He groaned, “But–”
“It has to be. There is no way around it.”
“Sneak out and meet me.”
Her eyes flicked to the house, “I can’t. Not tonight.”
“Why not?”
“Sitara!” Neela called again.
“I have to go. Now. Good night, Don. I hope to see you again, though I understand if you must wander on tonight,” she quickly kissed him. “Good night.”
Leaving the singer in the garden, Sitara hurried back through the garden, her bells and jewels softly clanging in the darkness. Donovan sighed and waited until he no longer heard her. While he had not truly expected to get anywhere with the Indian beauty, he still hoped, which is what drew him back to her repeatedly. Now that he was acquainted with her best friend, things could become far more interesting. However, that would have to wait for another visit.
Seated in the middle of her large bed, her legs folded under her, Sitara giggled as Kanti pulled a comb through her hair. Left alone for the night, the two girls chatted about the courting meal. Between the two of them, there was no way Sitara would marry the son introduced that night; but no one expected her father to accept. Ever since the virginity testing the year before, he continued to threaten to marry her off, but it never actually came to fruition. That suited the two girls just fine, as Kanti would attend Sitara no matter where she lived.
“So tell me,” she turned around as the other girl set down her comb, “did you and Donovan…?”
Kanti’s eyes went wide, “No! I would never! He wants your affections, not mine.”
Sitara rolled her eyes, “You can tell me, Kan. You know that.”
“Well,” she sat on the large bed next to her best friend, “we did… touch and kiss… but I would not allow him to put his lingam in my yoni.”
She gasped, “Did you see his lingam!?”
“Maybe,” she flushed and looked away.
“Oh tell me more!”
Kanti shook her head, “I will not.”
“Please! Surely he would wish me to know.”
“I will not say another word,” she glanced at the clock. “Besides, we must get you out of here. You do not want to make George wait for long.”
Sitara’s green eyes flicked to the clock, “Oh my! It is already past midnight.”
“Come,” Kanti stood, holding her hand. “Let us change and then you can be off.”
Attired in a simple black dress with minimal embroidery and no mirrors or metallics, Sitara followed Kanti out of her bedroom. With the maid leading her, she silently walked down the hallway, hoping to make it outside without being noticed. Though she snuck from the house with some frequency, it always made her nervous to weave through corridors and hide in empty rooms while others passed. On nights where her father entertained, it became more difficult as guests were difficult to predict.
Yet that night the girls escaped to the gardens without incident. Tiptoeing through the flowers and around trees, they arrived at the back fence. Kanti climbed up the tree first, checking around to make certain it was safe for Sitara to venture up. Satisfied, she climbed back down and hugged her friend, whispering that it was safe and she would wait for her return.
Carefully climbing the tree, Sitara glanced back down at her best friend before scooting over the large branch hanging over the stone fence. She sat on the branch for a moment, her eyes searching the darkness for anyone lingering near the fence. She sawno one, not even George. Her lips curved into a frown, certain he had not been able to pull off his great feat. Sighing, she moved to stand and head back over the fence.
A familiar whistle froze her where she stood. Slowly, she pivoted, green eyes searching for the whistler.
“My, my, my, what a pretty bird up in this tree,” an accented British voice spoke.
“George,” she breathed, her eyes connecting with his.
He dropped his cigarette, stomped it out, and held his hands up to her, “I promised to catch you.”
With a smile, she carefully slipped off the tree branch and landed in front of him. His arms quickly circled her, pulling her close. Grinning, her hands slipped over his shoulders and she kissed him briefly. His dark eyes searched hers briefly, before his lips went to hers again. Sitara’s arms tightened around him as she pressed up on her toes to deepen the kiss.
“I didn’t think you would actually be here,” she muttered, her breath dancing on his lips.
“I’m a Beatle, baby,” he winked. “Where shall we go, my beauty?”
“I… I am not sure.”
“Take me to your favorite place to escape to?”
Her eyes searched his face, “Are you sure you are not too tired from being on a plane that long?”
“I got some rest, love,” his fingers reached up and caressed her cheek. “Show me your world.”
Nodding, her hand slipped down his arm and into his hand. Silently turning away from the fence, Sitara pulled him away from the house. They did not speak as they strolled along in the darkness. He glanced around, observing everything they walked by. While he had walked midnight streets with her before, it seemed different every time. Even knowing the area around her house during daylight hours, he was uncertain as to their location, but it did not matter. He was with her; that did matter.
They strolled down the streets and found a rickshaw, heading towards the Pink Square. Though he had been to the eye-catching square with buildings constructed from pink and red sandstone at different times of day, usually with Sitara, he had not gone in the dark of the night. She guided him to Hawa Mahal, the Palace of the Winds. Never passing beyond the fences into the building, as it was intended for women only, he only knew the building from afar. That was all about to change.
“Sita…” he breathed.
“Shhh,” she stopped, turning to kiss him quickly, “you wanted to see one of my favorite places to escape to. This is it.”
“I…”
“Come. I will show you inside,” she whispered.
Circumventing the metal fences and the guards as well, though they could have been slipped a few rupees and stepped aside, Sitara led him into the building via the entrance near the rear. With no lamps or candles lit nor any light fixtures turned on, moonlight filtering in through the lace-like latticed windows provided the only illumination. An airy magic seemed to imbue everything. Without pausing to glance out the carved windows, which once serviced the royal ladies of the house, the couple continued down empty corridors to sloped ramps. George wondered where she led him, but said nothing, waiting for the reveal.
They reached the top floor without impediment from any guard that may have been protecting the 18th century building. Sitara did not pause to allow George to glance around, but rather continued on to the highest terrace. Releasing his hand, she stopped and turned to face away from the building. Joining her, he too turned to face as she did. His mouth fell open in awe. Though the darkness of after-midnight subdued the view, George was amazed at the vista before them. The hills, gates, and trees of Jaipur stretched as far as the eye could see. Turning he could see where the pink square ended and the tan buildings of the next block began, albeit it with some difficulty in the night light.
“Sita…”
Her fingers slipped into his, “It is a beautiful view, even without the full light of the moon.”
“I…”
“I will try to bring you back during the light… or perhaps we will still be here at sunrise. It is absolutely beautiful to watch the sunrise over Hawa Mahal,” she commented softly.
“I would like that.”
Her eyes turned to his and she softly kissed his lips, “I still cannot believe you came all this way, just to see me.”
“I cannot believe I ever let you come back here,” he turned fully to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I should have fought to keep you in London…”
She closed her eyes, stepped closer, and pressed her cheek to his shoulder. His arms tightened slightly, understanding without words what she was indicating to him. He kissed the top of her head, silently vowing to himself that he would rescue her from her gilded prison once-and-for-all as soon as he could.
Slowly Sitara unwound from his embrace, “Do you want to see more of the palace?”
“Can we?”
“We’re not supposed to, but we can,” she winked.
“By all means, my love,” he pulled away and motioned for her to lead the way.
They descended the ramps to the courtyard in the center of the palace complex. With little pause, Sitara headed towards the one part of the palace George likely never would have seen otherwise. Saying nothing, she ducked into a large building, leading him past screens that obscured the entrance. George noticed that she moved about with ease, almost as if she had perhaps lived in the building at one point.
“What is this place?” he muttered, drawing her attention.
Stopping under an intricately carved archway, Sitara turned to face him, her hand resting on the pillar, “These are the quarters of the royal harem.”
His heart fluttered at her statement, “Oh really?”
Noticing the flash in his aura, Sitara smiled and nodded. George stepped closer, smiling when she did not retreat. With a smile, he leaned down and kissed her. With a soft sigh, Sitara’s hands pressed against his chest, her fingers curling slightly around the light fabric of his shirt. Tempering himself as much as possible, George pushed her backwards beyond the archway. With some measure of grace, he turned her, guiding her into a room with a brilliant stained glass window, his mouth never leaving hers.
His hands slid down the curves of her body and cupped her ass as they neared the window. With a happy sigh, he lifted her onto the small window ledge, grateful the window was open to the courtyard below to allow such a perch. Her glittering green eyes looked into his as he leaned out of the kiss. The desire in his eyes reflected back in hers.
“Sita… I want…”
“I cannot…” she softly declared. “Not until we are married.”
He groaned, “But–”
“No.”
George kissed her sweetly, hoping to convince her with his kisses and touches, “May I… may I touch you?”
Her eyes held his for a moment. Biting her lip gently, she nodded. Groaning a soft thank you, he leaned in and kissed her again, his fingers gently tugging her black silken skirt up to her knees. As his tongue gently played with hers, his fingertips began to caress her bare knees, disappearing under her garment. Featherlight touches rubbed up her legs, far enough to brush across her sex – her naked sex – as his hands rolled over her hips to cup her ass. His body tensed at the realization she wore no panties underneath her dress.
Eyes closing, her hands left his shoulders and slapped down on the windowsill. As her long fingers curled around the stone ledge, Sitara sighed into George’s kisses. His hands roamed back over her hips, returning to her silken thighs. Finding no resistance, he gently parted her legs, gaining access to her flower. While one hand remained on her thigh, his other hand cupped her sex, gently massaging it. Her mouth left his, a soft moan slipping from her parted lips as his middle finger slipped inside to find her swelling bud.
His teeth nibbled along her jawline to her throat. He kissed her pulse, feeling it quicken as he began to gently rub and tease her body. Smiling against her flesh, his own body responded to her soft moans and sighs. Oh how he wanted to push his pants down and bury himself in her hot body. Her denial made him insane, increased his desire for her. He needed to be inside her, more than anyone ever before.
“Sita… please,” he requested softly.
She groaned, unable to verbally respond. However, she shook her head. He had not worn down her defenses completely.
Leaving her swollen clitoris alone, George slipped his finger into her slippery sex. He stroked in and out of her quickly, pressing against her walls. Unable to penetrate her deeply due to her virginal membrane, he was still intent to bring her orgasmic release. Maybe then she would allow him release as well. He shifted his hand, allowing his thumb to press against her bud as his pointer finger began to press in her as well. She gasped, moaned, and wiggled, but did not beg or even ask for more.
Meeting her desire-filled eyes briefly before kissing her deeply, George desired more than just touching her. With a smirk, he pulled out of the kiss and squatted. His hand left her thigh and rubbed his engorged member briefly while he withdrew his fingers from their shallow penetration of her body. Leaning forward, he kissed her petals before parting them to reveal her hidden bud.
“Ohhhh,” she moaned as he began to suckle and lick her body.
With his fingers touching her and his mouth working on her sex, Sitara felt her body began to tense. Her legs left the windowsill, resting briefly on his shoulders before tightening slightly around his head. George chuckled in the middle of his task, but did not stop. He needed her honey to coat his tongue almost as much as he wished it to coat another part of his body.
Her moans became louder, echoing off the empty stone walls. Perhaps centuries before, silken tapestries and wall hangings absorbed sighs and moans of pleasure, but they, like the harem, were long gone. If any guard walked the grounds, surely the sounds of the lovers would alert him or perhaps he would shrug it off as the spirits of the palace past. However, no one interrupted the two lovers.
His other hand released his still-clothed cock in order to reach up and grope her breasts. He pinched and rolled her swollen nipples, feeling her body arch to his mouth and his touch. Her gasps increased, her moans too breathy to qualify as moans. She was figuratively and literally on the edge. And George loved it.
With a half moan, Sitara’s body stiffened in orgasm. Her sex gushed honey and quivered around the barely inserted fingers. Her legs loosened their grip of his head, falling limply back to his shoulders. She continued to breathe erratically, trying to find solid reality once more.
Lips covered with her juices, George stood and kissed her hungry mouth, letting her taste herself on his tongue. Without his request, one of her hands left the windowsill and cupped his cock, gently rubbing the soft cotton fabric of his loose pajama-like pants against his sensitive body part. He groaned against her mouth before devouring her with his kiss. His hips pressed forward, trying to thrust more of his erection into her grasp. She clutched and rubbed, and while pleasurable, it was not enough. He needed more.
“Sita,” he breathed, “I need to feel you.”
“I cannot,” she refused. “If I were to get pregnant…”
“Please, baby,” he groaned, the tip of his covered cock briefly pressing against her still-exposed and wet entrance. “Please.”
“George,” she whispered, gently pushing his cock back with the hand wrapped around it, “I cannot.”
“Sita…”
Not responding verbally, Sitara pushed away from the window, her hand still holding him. As her skirt fell back in place, she guided him backwards gently. She kissed him deeply as she released her erotic grip of his member. With both hands free, her fingers pushed up his long cotton shirt and slipped under the waistband of his pants. She tentatively touched his erection, smiling when he gasped at her soft caress.
Pulling fully out of the kiss, Sitara knelt before him, both hands circling and stroking him. Looking up at him with large eyes filled with affection, she held his sex, leaned forward, and licked his entire length. George inhaled sharply, struggling to watch her lingual exploration of his tumescent penis. Her tongue swirled around his crown after a few lollipop-like licks. Winking up at him playfully, Sitara’s lips enveloped his head. With her fingers stroking his shaft, she sucked gently, her tongue sweeping around him.
As his arousal was already nearing peak before she began to suck, it did not take long for his body begin to tense. He attempted to warn her, but all verbalizations came out muddled and lost in moans. Grunts passed his lips as his body surged forward, pressing a bit further into her mouth to release. He gushed into her mouth, making her eyes widen slightly. However, her lips remained fastened around him as he pulsed.
Carefully he pulled away as her hands released him. Dribbling a bit on her lips, George frowned, not wanting to leave a telltale stain on the front of her dress. Before he could do anything, her finger caught it and she sucked her finger clean. George groaned at the sight and nearly did not pull his pants back in place.
“Sita…”
She slowly stood up, smiling sheepishly at him, “I hope that was…”
His arms quickly enfolded her, “I… love you, Sita.”
“I love you, too, George.”
“Come and… show me more of this marvel before I lose my ability to keep my hands off you,” he commented softly.
“Okay,” she smiled slightly. “There are a few other places I want to show you before the sun comes up.”
“You’re not worried about getting back home before the sun comes up?” he asked softly, his hand slipping into hers before she headed from the room.
“Not really. Kanti will cover for me,” she responded, “as usual.”
“Remind me to thank her again.”
She glanced at him, “Do you intend to come see me during daylight hours?”
George nodded, “I will be here a week. I plan to spend as many hours with you as you will allow.”
“It is not my allowance you need to worry about, but rather my father.”
He stopped and abruptly pulled her to him, his lips touching hers, “No one will keep me away from you, Sita. Thousands of kilometers could not. I will not be subjugated to his will. I will call on you during the day and spirit you away at night, if you will allow me.”
She grinned, “I want nothing more, George, than to be with you.”
“Then it will be so,” he stated and kissed her again. “Oh and Sita?”
“Yes?” her eyes fluttered back open to look into his.
“Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Characters: George Harrison, Sitara Barlow, Donovan Leitch, Kanti Singh
Word Count: 5,226
Rating: R [drugs, sexual situations]
Warnings/Spoilers/Summary: George and Sita are thousands of miles apart for this lover's holiday, but that does not mean they won't celebrate it. Donovan happens to be out wandering the world again, and happens to stop by to see Sita. Set a year in advance of the epic, so there are spoilers.
February 1969
With over five thousand miles between them, George bemoaned the fact he could not hold and kiss Sitara that day. He had hoped to get out of the country to see her, but band responsibilities kept him firmly in London. Attempting to head to the airport after the rooftop concert failed him. He was stuck in England; she was stuck in India. While he could have brushed it off as if she did not know much about the holiday, he knew he could not just be lazy about it. Just because she was sheltered in India did not mean she was completely clueless. Besides, by then she should have received his letter.
After stopping by the studio early in the morning but not staying for more than a few minutes as Paul was there, George headed back home. He greeted Pattie vacantly before heading into his room. Without pause, he picked up the phone and dialed through to India. Though a patient man, he could not stand the lag in connecting to the Jaipur house.
“Namaste.”
Recognizing the voice instantly, he smiled, “Namaste, Meena. Is Sitara available?”
There was a long pause, “Did you send her flowers?”
He grinned, “Perhaps.”
“There is not enough room in her quarters for what you send her.”
“Oh yeah?” he slipped a cigarette into his mouth and lit it. “She was only supposed to receive a dozen.”
“Then perhaps you should discuss how many are in a dozen next time, Mr. Harrison.”
He chuckled, “I will consider that. Can I speak with her?”
“Please hold.”
Grinning, he sucked on his cigarette and propped his feet up on the desk. The number of flowers, though not yet confirmed, did not surprise him. He had ordered a dozen of every color available at the florist. Perhaps, he should have specified which flower when placing such an order. He wondered what flower filled her rooms.
“Hello?”
“Hello, love.”
“George! Thank you for the flowers!”
“I wish I could give hand them to you in person, perhaps with a song or two.”
She giggled slightly, “I do not think you could carry so many flowers.”
“Ah, Meena was not being hyperbolic then?”
“Every surface of my room has flowers on it. It smells like a slice of floral heaven in here.”
He smiled again, “I wish I could share it with you.”
“Perhaps sometime soon.”
Her words instantly lifted his hopes and he sat up fully, his feet returning to the floor, “Are you going to be in London soon?”
“No… I do not think so. I would like to, but… you know he will not let me leave.”
“But, love, it was months ago. Has he not relaxed?”
“Oh no. Not at all. I am still not even allowed out in town without his appointed guards.”
He frowned, “Slip over the fence?”
“Only if you were waiting to catch me on the other side.”
“I can be there in,” he glanced at the clock, “a few hours. Meet me at midnight?”
She did not respond, keeping completely silent.
“Say the word and I will meet you over the fence at midnight.”
“That’s an all day flight, George, if you can even find passage on one. I really don’t think – ”
“Baby, I’m a Beatle. It will happen.”
She sighed, though she was grinning, “Then over the wall at midnight.”
“I will see you tonight, love.”
After hanging up with Sitara, George quickly rang the office and informed them of his immediate need to get to Jaipur. With a pleased smile, he finished his cigarette before standing to go pack for his sudden trip to India.
Lounging in her gardens, peacocks roaming about, Sitara turned another page in her book. Completely restricted from the outside world, she once more relied heavily upon books. George sent her at least one a week, though she always finished it in a couple of days. Book after book in her own library had been flipped through enough times that she now resorted to slipping books out of her father’s library when he was not looking. If not for visitations by girls known to her father, by her father’s permission, she would truly feel as if she was locked inside a prison, not palatial walls.
However, that day she did not expect any visitors – save for George’s secret night meeting. When one of her maids approached, she instantly presumed her father sent for her. Pressing an envelope into the spine of her book, Sitara closed it and sat up properly, waiting for directions.
“Mistress, you have a visitor. Shall I bring him to you here?”
“He?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “Shall I escort him here?”
“Who is he?”
“He says he is a friend of yours.”
“I see,” she set her book on the nearby end table. “Invite him in. We will take tea out here.”
“Yes, mistress,” she bowed slightly and hurried off.
Curious as to whom her visitor could be and certain her father would not like a male visitor, Sitara ran her fingers through her hair, untangling her soft curls. While she would have liked to hurry back to her room to truly fix her appearance, her finger styling and brushing the shallow wrinkles from her silk dress would do. Her visitor would have to forgive her, as he was truly unexpected.
“Why hello, beautiful girl,” a soft and very familiar greeted, drawing her eyes up from her skirts.
With a grin, she jumped to her feet, “Donovan!”
They embraced happily, his lips brushing hers. Surprised to see him, she found words did not tumble from her lips. Instead, her hand folded over his and she tugged him to sit with her on the chaise bench.
“I did not know you were in India,” she commented softly, her fingers spreading his out in her hand.
“I am on a bit of a wander-about,” he remarked.
“And that somehow brought you here?”
“No,” he lifted her hand to his lips. “Your beauty brought me here.”
She flushed slightly and pulled her hand free, “Stay for tea?”
“I would love to.”
Sipping tea, the two told stories of the past few months since their last visit. Though he often called and sometimes wrote a letter, they did not communicate as often as she and George did, giving them many topics to discuss over tea. Donovan brushed her fingers when reaching for tea and sought out other excuses to touch her. Sitara noticed every touch, but said nothing.
His hand grasped hers once more, as the tea service was removed an hour later. Without anyone near to see them, he tilted her head up and kissed her lips gently. Sitara smiled but pulled away before he could deepen the kiss. Freeing her hand from his, she stood and moved to a different seat. Not to be put off, Donovan followed her to the new seat. He glanced around and immediately noticed their new seat concealed them from view of the house behind a flower-filled screen.
With a smile, Donovan’s hand rested on her knee as he leaned over and kissed her temple. Her eyes fluttered close, her lips parting. His hand traced up her thigh, softly rubbing as his lips gently kissed towards her mouth. As she relaxed, he continued to rub her leg and deepened the kiss. Sitara’s hand went to his shoulder, her fingers tightened slightly as his touches continued.
“Don…” she breathed as his lips moved to suck on her earlobe.
“Yes,” he nibbled gently.
“You should…”
His hand nudged her legs apart and cupped her sex, “Yes?”
“Ohhhh…”
He grinned and kissed her mouth deeply again, “What should I do?”
“Ohhhh… you should… stop.”
His hand left her sex and moved to her hip, pulling her to the edge of the bench. Her green eyes remained focused on him as he knelt in front of her. Not entirely sure what he was doing but feeling as if her body was on fire, Sitara did not protest. Smiling up at her, Donovan’s fingers gripped the bottom hem of her skirt. His hands dipped under the silk fabric, his fingertips caressing her legs. Slowly, he continued up. Still smiling, he leaned down and kissed her exposed knees. She gasped as his fingers pushed further up, revealing her toned thighs.
“Don…”
He leaned forward and kissed her soft thighs, “Yes?”
“I…”
Donovan inched her skirt up a bit more. His eyes left hers and flicked down to the juncture of her thighs. Biting his lip, one hand caressed up her thigh and shifted over to her panty-covered sex. A soft moan left her lips as his thumb pressed down into her warmth, searching for her clitoris.
“Dono…”
“Mistress!” her companion, Kanti, suddenly appeared.
Sitara gasped and pulled her skirt down, not caring that Donovan was still between her legs, “Kanti!”
“Sorry, Sita,” she muttered, looking away with a deep blush as Donovan returned to sitting properly next to Sitara. “Your father…”
“What does he want?”
“You… dinner…”
“Excuse me?” she snatched her hand away before Donovan could grasp it.
“He is having a potential suitor over for dinner,” she quickly answered, still avoiding looking at the two. “You need to plan the menu and dress appropriately.”
Sitara frowned, “And if I do not want to?”
“Mistress…”
“Fine, fine,” she stood. “I will do it. But Donovan will attend as well – as my guest.”
Donovan smirked, but said nothing.
“Of course, Mistress,” the young woman looked to the Scotsman.
“Don,” Sitara turned to his, “I need to go take care of things. I hate to leave you alone for… awhile, but Kanti can see that you are kept company.”
“Oh really?” his eyebrows arched up, his gaze quickly appraising the maid.
“I shall try to be speedy,” she declared, her fingers turning his face to hers. “Try to behave yourself.”
“Whatever do you mean, love?”
Sitara quickly kissed him, “I will see you at dinner.”
As her father continued to entertain the father of her would-be suitor, Sitara grabbed Donovan’s hand and led him out into the garden. Pulling him as out of the light of the house, she dropped his hand and began to stroll casually through the night garden. Flowers that normally did not bloom during sunlit hours filled the gardens with sweet, soft fragrances. Her long fingers trailed down, catching petals as she continued to walk. Keeping a few paces behind her, Donovan fished out a hand-rolled cigarette and lit it.
Reaching the end of the path, Sitara turned and met his eyes. A soft breeze lifted the scent of his smoke to her. She smiled crookedly, knowing full-well he did not smoke tobacco. He slowly approached her, stopping close enough to easily kiss her. Lowering his joint to the side, he leaned forward and did just that, the tip of his tongue gliding briefly over her lips.
“I am sorry about this evening. I know you did not come here to be subjected to Indian courting,” she stated softly.
“It was intriguing,” he stole another kiss. “But moreover, you are beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she flushed slightly. “Was Kanti good company?”
“Oh the best.”
“Oh?”
He inhaled his joint deeply, “She was very energetic and eager to please.”
Sitara eyed him suspiciously, “You had sex with her.”
“Who me? No, never.”
She playfully pushed his shoulder, “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not,” he responded seriously.
“And I do not believe you, but it matters not. She will tell me.”
He stared at her and inhaled one of the final puffs of his joint, “Will she now?”
“We tell each other everything. She is my best friend.”
“Everything?”
“Mmmhmmm,” she responded and turned away from him, moving over to a stone bench. “Everything.”
“So then,” he sat beside her and discarded what little was left of the joint before placing his hand on her knee, “she should not have been surprised to find us in the garden earlier.”
“Perhaps…” her hand covered his, keeping it from wandering.
He leaned over, kissed her ear, and whispered, “What naughty things have you talked about?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sitara replied dismissively, her eyes closing.
“Do you talk about sex?” he whispered.
“Don…”
“Sitara!” an older woman called.
Sitara pulled abruptly away from Donovan, “I’m sorry. This is good night.”
He groaned, “But–”
“It has to be. There is no way around it.”
“Sneak out and meet me.”
Her eyes flicked to the house, “I can’t. Not tonight.”
“Why not?”
“Sitara!” Neela called again.
“I have to go. Now. Good night, Don. I hope to see you again, though I understand if you must wander on tonight,” she quickly kissed him. “Good night.”
Leaving the singer in the garden, Sitara hurried back through the garden, her bells and jewels softly clanging in the darkness. Donovan sighed and waited until he no longer heard her. While he had not truly expected to get anywhere with the Indian beauty, he still hoped, which is what drew him back to her repeatedly. Now that he was acquainted with her best friend, things could become far more interesting. However, that would have to wait for another visit.
Seated in the middle of her large bed, her legs folded under her, Sitara giggled as Kanti pulled a comb through her hair. Left alone for the night, the two girls chatted about the courting meal. Between the two of them, there was no way Sitara would marry the son introduced that night; but no one expected her father to accept. Ever since the virginity testing the year before, he continued to threaten to marry her off, but it never actually came to fruition. That suited the two girls just fine, as Kanti would attend Sitara no matter where she lived.
“So tell me,” she turned around as the other girl set down her comb, “did you and Donovan…?”
Kanti’s eyes went wide, “No! I would never! He wants your affections, not mine.”
Sitara rolled her eyes, “You can tell me, Kan. You know that.”
“Well,” she sat on the large bed next to her best friend, “we did… touch and kiss… but I would not allow him to put his lingam in my yoni.”
She gasped, “Did you see his lingam!?”
“Maybe,” she flushed and looked away.
“Oh tell me more!”
Kanti shook her head, “I will not.”
“Please! Surely he would wish me to know.”
“I will not say another word,” she glanced at the clock. “Besides, we must get you out of here. You do not want to make George wait for long.”
Sitara’s green eyes flicked to the clock, “Oh my! It is already past midnight.”
“Come,” Kanti stood, holding her hand. “Let us change and then you can be off.”
Attired in a simple black dress with minimal embroidery and no mirrors or metallics, Sitara followed Kanti out of her bedroom. With the maid leading her, she silently walked down the hallway, hoping to make it outside without being noticed. Though she snuck from the house with some frequency, it always made her nervous to weave through corridors and hide in empty rooms while others passed. On nights where her father entertained, it became more difficult as guests were difficult to predict.
Yet that night the girls escaped to the gardens without incident. Tiptoeing through the flowers and around trees, they arrived at the back fence. Kanti climbed up the tree first, checking around to make certain it was safe for Sitara to venture up. Satisfied, she climbed back down and hugged her friend, whispering that it was safe and she would wait for her return.
Carefully climbing the tree, Sitara glanced back down at her best friend before scooting over the large branch hanging over the stone fence. She sat on the branch for a moment, her eyes searching the darkness for anyone lingering near the fence. She sawno one, not even George. Her lips curved into a frown, certain he had not been able to pull off his great feat. Sighing, she moved to stand and head back over the fence.
A familiar whistle froze her where she stood. Slowly, she pivoted, green eyes searching for the whistler.
“My, my, my, what a pretty bird up in this tree,” an accented British voice spoke.
“George,” she breathed, her eyes connecting with his.
He dropped his cigarette, stomped it out, and held his hands up to her, “I promised to catch you.”
With a smile, she carefully slipped off the tree branch and landed in front of him. His arms quickly circled her, pulling her close. Grinning, her hands slipped over his shoulders and she kissed him briefly. His dark eyes searched hers briefly, before his lips went to hers again. Sitara’s arms tightened around him as she pressed up on her toes to deepen the kiss.
“I didn’t think you would actually be here,” she muttered, her breath dancing on his lips.
“I’m a Beatle, baby,” he winked. “Where shall we go, my beauty?”
“I… I am not sure.”
“Take me to your favorite place to escape to?”
Her eyes searched his face, “Are you sure you are not too tired from being on a plane that long?”
“I got some rest, love,” his fingers reached up and caressed her cheek. “Show me your world.”
Nodding, her hand slipped down his arm and into his hand. Silently turning away from the fence, Sitara pulled him away from the house. They did not speak as they strolled along in the darkness. He glanced around, observing everything they walked by. While he had walked midnight streets with her before, it seemed different every time. Even knowing the area around her house during daylight hours, he was uncertain as to their location, but it did not matter. He was with her; that did matter.
They strolled down the streets and found a rickshaw, heading towards the Pink Square. Though he had been to the eye-catching square with buildings constructed from pink and red sandstone at different times of day, usually with Sitara, he had not gone in the dark of the night. She guided him to Hawa Mahal, the Palace of the Winds. Never passing beyond the fences into the building, as it was intended for women only, he only knew the building from afar. That was all about to change.
“Sita…” he breathed.
“Shhh,” she stopped, turning to kiss him quickly, “you wanted to see one of my favorite places to escape to. This is it.”
“I…”
“Come. I will show you inside,” she whispered.
Circumventing the metal fences and the guards as well, though they could have been slipped a few rupees and stepped aside, Sitara led him into the building via the entrance near the rear. With no lamps or candles lit nor any light fixtures turned on, moonlight filtering in through the lace-like latticed windows provided the only illumination. An airy magic seemed to imbue everything. Without pausing to glance out the carved windows, which once serviced the royal ladies of the house, the couple continued down empty corridors to sloped ramps. George wondered where she led him, but said nothing, waiting for the reveal.
They reached the top floor without impediment from any guard that may have been protecting the 18th century building. Sitara did not pause to allow George to glance around, but rather continued on to the highest terrace. Releasing his hand, she stopped and turned to face away from the building. Joining her, he too turned to face as she did. His mouth fell open in awe. Though the darkness of after-midnight subdued the view, George was amazed at the vista before them. The hills, gates, and trees of Jaipur stretched as far as the eye could see. Turning he could see where the pink square ended and the tan buildings of the next block began, albeit it with some difficulty in the night light.
“Sita…”
Her fingers slipped into his, “It is a beautiful view, even without the full light of the moon.”
“I…”
“I will try to bring you back during the light… or perhaps we will still be here at sunrise. It is absolutely beautiful to watch the sunrise over Hawa Mahal,” she commented softly.
“I would like that.”
Her eyes turned to his and she softly kissed his lips, “I still cannot believe you came all this way, just to see me.”
“I cannot believe I ever let you come back here,” he turned fully to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I should have fought to keep you in London…”
She closed her eyes, stepped closer, and pressed her cheek to his shoulder. His arms tightened slightly, understanding without words what she was indicating to him. He kissed the top of her head, silently vowing to himself that he would rescue her from her gilded prison once-and-for-all as soon as he could.
Slowly Sitara unwound from his embrace, “Do you want to see more of the palace?”
“Can we?”
“We’re not supposed to, but we can,” she winked.
“By all means, my love,” he pulled away and motioned for her to lead the way.
They descended the ramps to the courtyard in the center of the palace complex. With little pause, Sitara headed towards the one part of the palace George likely never would have seen otherwise. Saying nothing, she ducked into a large building, leading him past screens that obscured the entrance. George noticed that she moved about with ease, almost as if she had perhaps lived in the building at one point.
“What is this place?” he muttered, drawing her attention.
Stopping under an intricately carved archway, Sitara turned to face him, her hand resting on the pillar, “These are the quarters of the royal harem.”
His heart fluttered at her statement, “Oh really?”
Noticing the flash in his aura, Sitara smiled and nodded. George stepped closer, smiling when she did not retreat. With a smile, he leaned down and kissed her. With a soft sigh, Sitara’s hands pressed against his chest, her fingers curling slightly around the light fabric of his shirt. Tempering himself as much as possible, George pushed her backwards beyond the archway. With some measure of grace, he turned her, guiding her into a room with a brilliant stained glass window, his mouth never leaving hers.
His hands slid down the curves of her body and cupped her ass as they neared the window. With a happy sigh, he lifted her onto the small window ledge, grateful the window was open to the courtyard below to allow such a perch. Her glittering green eyes looked into his as he leaned out of the kiss. The desire in his eyes reflected back in hers.
“Sita… I want…”
“I cannot…” she softly declared. “Not until we are married.”
He groaned, “But–”
“No.”
George kissed her sweetly, hoping to convince her with his kisses and touches, “May I… may I touch you?”
Her eyes held his for a moment. Biting her lip gently, she nodded. Groaning a soft thank you, he leaned in and kissed her again, his fingers gently tugging her black silken skirt up to her knees. As his tongue gently played with hers, his fingertips began to caress her bare knees, disappearing under her garment. Featherlight touches rubbed up her legs, far enough to brush across her sex – her naked sex – as his hands rolled over her hips to cup her ass. His body tensed at the realization she wore no panties underneath her dress.
Eyes closing, her hands left his shoulders and slapped down on the windowsill. As her long fingers curled around the stone ledge, Sitara sighed into George’s kisses. His hands roamed back over her hips, returning to her silken thighs. Finding no resistance, he gently parted her legs, gaining access to her flower. While one hand remained on her thigh, his other hand cupped her sex, gently massaging it. Her mouth left his, a soft moan slipping from her parted lips as his middle finger slipped inside to find her swelling bud.
His teeth nibbled along her jawline to her throat. He kissed her pulse, feeling it quicken as he began to gently rub and tease her body. Smiling against her flesh, his own body responded to her soft moans and sighs. Oh how he wanted to push his pants down and bury himself in her hot body. Her denial made him insane, increased his desire for her. He needed to be inside her, more than anyone ever before.
“Sita… please,” he requested softly.
She groaned, unable to verbally respond. However, she shook her head. He had not worn down her defenses completely.
Leaving her swollen clitoris alone, George slipped his finger into her slippery sex. He stroked in and out of her quickly, pressing against her walls. Unable to penetrate her deeply due to her virginal membrane, he was still intent to bring her orgasmic release. Maybe then she would allow him release as well. He shifted his hand, allowing his thumb to press against her bud as his pointer finger began to press in her as well. She gasped, moaned, and wiggled, but did not beg or even ask for more.
Meeting her desire-filled eyes briefly before kissing her deeply, George desired more than just touching her. With a smirk, he pulled out of the kiss and squatted. His hand left her thigh and rubbed his engorged member briefly while he withdrew his fingers from their shallow penetration of her body. Leaning forward, he kissed her petals before parting them to reveal her hidden bud.
“Ohhhh,” she moaned as he began to suckle and lick her body.
With his fingers touching her and his mouth working on her sex, Sitara felt her body began to tense. Her legs left the windowsill, resting briefly on his shoulders before tightening slightly around his head. George chuckled in the middle of his task, but did not stop. He needed her honey to coat his tongue almost as much as he wished it to coat another part of his body.
Her moans became louder, echoing off the empty stone walls. Perhaps centuries before, silken tapestries and wall hangings absorbed sighs and moans of pleasure, but they, like the harem, were long gone. If any guard walked the grounds, surely the sounds of the lovers would alert him or perhaps he would shrug it off as the spirits of the palace past. However, no one interrupted the two lovers.
His other hand released his still-clothed cock in order to reach up and grope her breasts. He pinched and rolled her swollen nipples, feeling her body arch to his mouth and his touch. Her gasps increased, her moans too breathy to qualify as moans. She was figuratively and literally on the edge. And George loved it.
With a half moan, Sitara’s body stiffened in orgasm. Her sex gushed honey and quivered around the barely inserted fingers. Her legs loosened their grip of his head, falling limply back to his shoulders. She continued to breathe erratically, trying to find solid reality once more.
Lips covered with her juices, George stood and kissed her hungry mouth, letting her taste herself on his tongue. Without his request, one of her hands left the windowsill and cupped his cock, gently rubbing the soft cotton fabric of his loose pajama-like pants against his sensitive body part. He groaned against her mouth before devouring her with his kiss. His hips pressed forward, trying to thrust more of his erection into her grasp. She clutched and rubbed, and while pleasurable, it was not enough. He needed more.
“Sita,” he breathed, “I need to feel you.”
“I cannot,” she refused. “If I were to get pregnant…”
“Please, baby,” he groaned, the tip of his covered cock briefly pressing against her still-exposed and wet entrance. “Please.”
“George,” she whispered, gently pushing his cock back with the hand wrapped around it, “I cannot.”
“Sita…”
Not responding verbally, Sitara pushed away from the window, her hand still holding him. As her skirt fell back in place, she guided him backwards gently. She kissed him deeply as she released her erotic grip of his member. With both hands free, her fingers pushed up his long cotton shirt and slipped under the waistband of his pants. She tentatively touched his erection, smiling when he gasped at her soft caress.
Pulling fully out of the kiss, Sitara knelt before him, both hands circling and stroking him. Looking up at him with large eyes filled with affection, she held his sex, leaned forward, and licked his entire length. George inhaled sharply, struggling to watch her lingual exploration of his tumescent penis. Her tongue swirled around his crown after a few lollipop-like licks. Winking up at him playfully, Sitara’s lips enveloped his head. With her fingers stroking his shaft, she sucked gently, her tongue sweeping around him.
As his arousal was already nearing peak before she began to suck, it did not take long for his body begin to tense. He attempted to warn her, but all verbalizations came out muddled and lost in moans. Grunts passed his lips as his body surged forward, pressing a bit further into her mouth to release. He gushed into her mouth, making her eyes widen slightly. However, her lips remained fastened around him as he pulsed.
Carefully he pulled away as her hands released him. Dribbling a bit on her lips, George frowned, not wanting to leave a telltale stain on the front of her dress. Before he could do anything, her finger caught it and she sucked her finger clean. George groaned at the sight and nearly did not pull his pants back in place.
“Sita…”
She slowly stood up, smiling sheepishly at him, “I hope that was…”
His arms quickly enfolded her, “I… love you, Sita.”
“I love you, too, George.”
“Come and… show me more of this marvel before I lose my ability to keep my hands off you,” he commented softly.
“Okay,” she smiled slightly. “There are a few other places I want to show you before the sun comes up.”
“You’re not worried about getting back home before the sun comes up?” he asked softly, his hand slipping into hers before she headed from the room.
“Not really. Kanti will cover for me,” she responded, “as usual.”
“Remind me to thank her again.”
She glanced at him, “Do you intend to come see me during daylight hours?”
George nodded, “I will be here a week. I plan to spend as many hours with you as you will allow.”
“It is not my allowance you need to worry about, but rather my father.”
He stopped and abruptly pulled her to him, his lips touching hers, “No one will keep me away from you, Sita. Thousands of kilometers could not. I will not be subjugated to his will. I will call on you during the day and spirit you away at night, if you will allow me.”
She grinned, “I want nothing more, George, than to be with you.”
“Then it will be so,” he stated and kissed her again. “Oh and Sita?”
“Yes?” her eyes fluttered back open to look into his.
“Happy Valentine’s Day.”
In : Valentine's
Tags: valentine's 1969
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