Chapter 9: Beasts in the Temple (India)

John stood by the altar, his breath heavy, his body still trembling from the ritual in his dream. The golden glow, the images of Lucy, Kate, and Shri Devi buzzed in his mind like a mantra that wouldn’t let go. His blood boiled, as if infused with a primal energy awakened during the dream. He felt not just human but like a beast, its hunger unleashed, unbound by reason. Nalini stood before him, her silhouette in the dim light of the oil lamps almost unreal. Her navy sari clung to her slender frame, accentuating the curves of her breasts and hips, and her eyes, cold and deep, gazed at him with a faint smile. But there was something new in her gaze — a flicker of surprise, as if she sensed the change in him.

“You felt her,” she said, her voice quiet but carrying a tone that made his heart race. “Shri Devi left her mark on you.”

John didn’t respond. His body burned, every muscle taut, and his thoughts, which had been tangled moments ago, now converged on one point — Nalini. Her scent — sandalwood with a hint of musk — filled his lungs, and he felt his erection strain, reacting to her closeness. He took a step toward her, his movements swift, almost predatory, and Nalini flinched, her eyes widening in surprise. But there was no fear in them — only curiosity, mixed with something deeper that quickened her breath.

“John?” she whispered, her voice trembling, but she didn’t step back further. Her posture, once restrained and cold, seemed less certain, as if she felt the storm raging within him.

He didn’t let her finish. The animalistic energy pulsing through his veins took over. John grabbed her wrist, his fingers gripping her skin firmly but not painfully, and pulled her toward him. Nalini let out a soft gasp, her eyes flashing, but she didn’t resist. Her body, hot and yielding, pressed against him, and John felt her breasts rise heavily with her rapid breathing. He leaned in, his lips finding her neck, inhaling her scent, and his erection pulsed from the heat of her skin. His hands, rough and insistent, tugged at her sari, exposing her shoulders, and the fabric slipped down, revealing her full, firm breasts with dark nipples that hardened under his touch.

“You…” Nalini began, but her voice broke off as John pressed her against the temple wall, his hands gripping her hips. Her vagina, felt through the thin fabric, was already wet, fueling his desire further. He roughly pulled the rest of her sari away, baring her completely, and Nalini let out a moan, her eyes closing, her lips parting as if inviting him. She yielded, her body trembling under his force, but her movements held a compliance that made John feel even more dominant.

He lifted her, pressing her against the wall, and her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Her vagina, hot and wet, rubbed against his erection, and John let out a low growl, his desire reaching its peak. He entered her with a sharp thrust, and Nalini arched, her nails digging into his shoulders, leaving hot marks. Her vagina clenched around him, pulsing with his thrusts, and she moaned, her voice filled with pleasure bordering on ecstasy. John moved roughly but rhythmically, his hands gripping her buttocks, controlling every motion, and Nalini yielded, her hips swaying in sync with his, as if giving herself to him completely.

He felt her body tremble, her breasts swaying before him, and he leaned down, his lips closing around her nipple, his tongue gliding over it, drawing another moan. Nalini was compliant, but her own pleasure was evident — her vagina gripped him tighter, her breath grew ragged, and her eyes, when she opened them, gleamed with hunger. John abruptly lowered her onto the fabric by the altar, still inside her, and turned her onto her knees. Her hips rose to him, her vagina wet and open, beckoning him, and he entered her again, deeper this time, his hands gripping her waist, fingers digging into her skin. Nalini arched her back, her hair spilling over her shoulders, and she moaned louder, her voice mingling with the distant sound of temple bells. John moved faster, his erection filling her, each thrust like a strike that made her body quiver with pleasure.

She yielded to his every move, but her own passion was insatiable — her vagina pulsed, clenching him, and her moans grew more ragged, as if she were nearing climax. John felt his own pleasure building but didn’t stop, shifting their position again. He pulled her to him, seating her atop him, and Nalini, obediently following his desire, lowered herself onto him, her vagina enveloping his erection, hot and wet, and began to move, her hips swaying in a rhythm that made him arch with pleasure. Her breasts swayed before him, and he gripped them, his fingers roughly pinching her nipples, drawing a cry of pleasure from her. Nalini, despite her compliance, was consumed by ecstasy, her eyes closed, her lips trembling as she neared orgasm.

She reached her climax first, her vagina clenching him so tightly that John let out a growl, feeling her body shudder in his arms. Her cry filled the temple, mingling with distant mantras, and John, no longer holding back, reached his orgasm, his erection pulsing inside her, filling her with his warmth. They froze for a moment, their breaths mingling, hot and uneven, and Nalini, still trembling, leaned against him, her skin damp with sweat, her eyes gleaming from the experience.

She slowly pulled away, her movements soft but still carrying that same compliance. John, his breath slowly calming, felt his mind return to reality. But the ritual’s energy still hummed within him, and he knew he had to capture what he’d experienced. He reached into his bag for a notebook and pen, his fingers trembling as he began to write — about the dream, about Shri Devi, about the knowledge she’d imparted, about the secrets his grandfather had hidden. The words flowed onto the paper like the Ganges beyond the temple walls, and he felt the book he was meant to write taking shape.

John slowly pulled away, his body still buzzing with energy, but his mind began to return to reality. He felt the need to record everything he’d experienced — the ritual, the dream, Shri Devi, Nalini. He stood, his legs trembling, and reached for his bag to retrieve his notebook and pen. But Nalini, still sitting on the fabric by the altar, suddenly lunged toward him. Her sari lay crumpled beside her, her skin glistening with sweat, but she dropped to her knees before him, her hands firmly gripping his thighs, preventing him from stepping away. Her eyes, now warm and filled with devotion, gazed up at him, and there was something in them that made his heart race.

“Don’t go,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with passion but carrying a plea. Her fingers tightened, and she pressed herself against him, her lips brushing his erection, still sensitive from their act. John felt heat flare in his body again, and his hand, reaching for the notebook, froze. Nalini, obediently remaining on her knees, began kissing his thighs, her tongue gliding over his skin, nearing his erection, and John let out a low moan, feeling his resolve melt under her touch.

He grabbed her hair, his fingers roughly tangling in her braid, and pulled her up. Nalini rose obediently, her eyes gleaming with submission, but a hunger burned in them that made his blood boil. He pushed her toward the altar, making her lie on her back, and her legs parted, revealing her vagina, wet and hot, beckoning him. John leaned over her, his hands pinning her wrists to the fabric, and he entered her again, his erection filling her, drawing a moan from Nalini that mingled with the distant temple sounds. Her body arched under him, her breasts swaying with his thrusts, and she yielded, her vagina clenching him as if begging him not to stop. John moved roughly, his hands gripping her hips, leaving red marks, but Nalini only moaned louder, her eyes closed, her lips trembling with pleasure.

Finally, he released her, his breath heavy, his body buzzing with tension. Nalini, still trembling, sat up slowly, her gaze filled with warm devotion, as if acknowledging him as her master. John took his notebook and pen, his fingers shaking as he began to write — about the dream, about Shri Devi, about the ritual, about the knowledge pulsing in his mind. The words flowed onto the paper like the Ganges beyond the temple walls, and he felt the book he was meant to write taking shape. Nalini, sitting on her knees before him, moved closer, her hands gliding over his thighs, and her lips touched his erection, softly but insistently. Her tongue moved slowly, enveloping him, and John felt his body respond, but he forced himself to focus on the words. Her lips surrounded him, hot and wet, her movements obedient, as if continuing the ritual that began in the dream. Her eyes lifted to him, warm and devoted, and John kept writing, his pen moving feverishly across the paper, while her tongue glided over his erection, sending waves of pleasure that mingled with his thoughts of Shri Devi, the danger, and his grandfather’s secrets. Varanasi hummed beyond the walls, and John knew his journey was only beginning.