Scorpio Superstar (Written in the Stars Book 1) Read online

  He lifted his head to bury his face in her neck, his thick moustache scraping against her sensitive skin, increasing her pulse rate to fever pitch.

  “Chandru…”

  His hands explored her waist left bare between her blouse and the folds of her sari, the resultant heat making her crave only more. His right hand moved lower, caressing her lush bottom, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I wanna love you, Ranju.”

  “Please, yes.” Ranju lifted her head from his chest to press her lips to a corner of his mouth, only to have him capture them in a searing kiss. Ranjini gave a startled gasp when she suddenly felt herself being lifted off the floor and giggled before clinging to his neck as Chandrakanth walked towards the back of the cottage where the bedrooms were. He stepped into what appeared to be the master bedroom and laid her down on the king-sized, four poster bed, before joining her, pressing his body to hers. “I…” Her words were lost as he pressed his lips to hers again, sucking her tongue, encouraging her to explore his mouth in turn. She didn’t need a second invitation before Ranjini foraged his mouth with her hungry tongue, her arms clinging to his broad back. It was a while before she fell back on the bed, gasping for breath. She never knew that someone could taste so delicious.

  Her eyes clung to his as he gave her a grin. “Like it, did you?”

  Ranjini nodded her head vigorously, lifting a hand to caress the lock of hair that had fallen on his forehead. It felt both rough and silky at the same time, reminding her of the texture of raw silk. With a groan, Chandrakanth buried his face against her breasts, enjoying the feel of her fingers exploring his scalp.

  The weight of his head on her breasts felt so good as Ranjini held his head closer, running her fingers through his hair caressingly, revelling in the tactile sensation. It wasn’t long before Chandrakanth got up from the bed to remove his shirt in a hurry. He smiled as he noticed that half the buttons were already open under Ranjini’s ministrations. He removed the leather belt that had been holding his veshti in place and pulled off the garment before flinging it over the back of a chair.

  Ranjini sat up against the headboard, watching him with her mouth wide open, drinking in the sight of his bare chest and muscular legs, her eyes moving swiftly over the boxers that covered his burgeoning manhood as they trailed the length of his body, from his shoulders to his feet.

  “What’s that?” asked Ranjini, staring at the left side of his chest, just below his shoulder. It looked like a tattoo, though she had never noticed it before in any of his shirtless photographs. It was a scorpion, from the zodiac sign, with a curved tail and was about two inches long. It looked wicked and suited him totally. “You got inked.” She answered her own question.

  “Just a couple of months ago. I stayed back in Jakarta for three days after shooting for Senjikkottai—that’s the film we are hoping to rename—and that’s when I got it done.”

  “It looks so sexy.” Ranjini traced the shape with her finger, feeling a thrum of electricity as it connected with his skin.

  Colour ran up Chandrakanth’s cheeks. “Need help?” he asked, taking her other hand in his to pull her off the bed.

  “Hmm...” Unable to stop herself, Ranjini kissed his other shoulder, nipping gently with her teeth, smiling when she heard him groan. “You taste good.” Her right hand continued to trace the shape of the tattoo, too fascinated.

  His hand curling into a fist in her hair, Chandrakanth pulled her head back none too gently as he explored her throat with his lips, zeroing in on a pulse point as he licked and nipped alternately, making her moan with need, her nails digging into his back. “You taste better.” He lifted the edge of her sari and tried to remove it from her shoulder only to find a pin getting in the way at her left shoulder. “Help me,” he ordered gruffly, his hands trembling with need as one settled against her waist while the other traced the outline of her deep cut blouse where it met her skin above her breasts.

  Her laughter stuck in her throat as Ranjini met his hot gaze, her fingers fumbling as she removed the safety pin in a hurry, pulling off the sari and allowing it to trail on the wooden floor. She gasped when she felt Chandrakanth draw a damp, but searing tongue at the neckline of her blouse even as his busy hands unfastened the tiny hooks that held the garment in place. He helped her out of her blouse while she pulled her sari completely out of the petticoat underneath and threw it on the chair over his veshti.

  Chandrakanth stared dazedly at Ranjini’s luscious breasts covered by red lace in the exact shade as her blouse. “Gorgeous,” he complimented, his large hands gently cupping the twin mounds and squeezing them.

  Colour ran up Ranjini’s cheeks as she felt torn between exploring all that naked skin in front of her eyes and removing the rest of her clothes. All thoughts flew from her mind, making it go blank, when she felt Chandrakanth’s lips closing over the tip of her left breast over the lace, moaning mindlessly as she felt his tongue rubbing over it again and again. “Chandru…”

  He deftly untied the knot holding up her petticoat and allowed it to pool at her feet before lifting Ranjini once again in his arms to place her on the bed. His hands caressed her bare waist and hips, a finger dipping into her navel and stroking against it, while he continued to suck her breast through the lace, having shifted to the right. He trapped her thrashing limbs by throwing his muscular right leg over them.

  “Chandru…” moaned Ranjini as she explored his bare back, gently to begin with, before he drove her wild and she raked her nails all the way from his shoulders to his lower back, stopping at the line of his boxers.

  Chandrakanth lifted his head to look down at the woman in his arms, his wife of a few hours. Her eyes were tightly shut, the long, curling eyelashes lying against her golden brown cheeks, her lips parted as she gasped and moaned. He lifted her body a couple of inches above the bed and unhooked her bra, chucking it towards the same chair that held their clothes as he stared at her breasts. The twin globes glistened in the soft night light, the aureoles a darker shade of brown, glistening wet from his kisses. “Ranju…” His voice was a whisper as she opened her eyes shyly to peep at him. “You look lovely.” He circled her right breast with his left hand, eyeing the puckering tip, while his right thumb rubbed roughly over the left nipple, his scorching brown gaze moving left and right as they watched her body’s avid response in fascination.

  Ranjini was bombarded with sensations, with his rough leg lying across both of hers while she could feel his bulging manhood against her thigh. His hands and fingers played havoc with her breasts. Ranjini trembled even as unfamiliar heat pooled between her legs, groaning, “Please Chandru…”

  “Please what?” He removed his gaze reluctantly from her breasts and looked into hers to ask in a hoarse voice.

  She shook her head, her thick and curly hair spread over the pillows. “I don’t know. I want…”

  “This?” Chandrakanth tweaked the tip of her left breast between his thumb and forefinger. “Or this?” Before she could get any word out of her choked vocal chords, he bent down to take the other turgid nipple deep into his mouth, suckling on it.

  She felt bereft and protested loudly as her breasts felt forsaken when Chandrakanth moved down her body, tracing a path from her chest to her navel with his lips and tongue. Her hands dug into his hair, first as she tried to pull him back to her chest, but soon in encouragement as she felt her abdomen shivering with his hot lips against it.

  When he reached the apex of her thighs, Chandrakanth paused, his fingers holding the sides of her panties, ready to pull them off. He raised his head to look up at her and asked, “Are you a virgin?”

  She shook her head slowly, saying, “No.” Her voice was a whisper as she looked into his smouldering gaze. No, she refused to feel guilty. Why should she? He definitely wasn’t one. Though she didn’t much care for yellow journalism, it also held a morbid fascination when one was working so closely on a superstar’s website. She had heard that he had had several affairs with actresses, starlets and models�
��at least twenty of them—in the past decade.

  “Neither am I.” There was laughter in Chandrakanth’s gaze as he pulled her panties down the length of her legs in one swift stroke, his hand pressed to her mound in a caress that drove the breath from Ranjini’s lungs. He pulled off his boxers before he rose up to lie down between her legs, exploring her wet core with a gentle finger, while he kissed her on her lips.

  “Chandru...” Ranjini gasped his name when they came up for air.

  “Hmm...” He nibbled her shoulder as a second finger joined the first one way down, even as he drew her right leg around his waist. “Like it?”

  “Too much.”

  Removing his fingers from her core, he lifted his lower body and entered her swiftly, settling down between her legs, giving her a few seconds to accept his bulging hardness. “Okay?” His whisper against her ear was a caress as his tongue traced an earlobe.

  “Hmm...” He felt huge as his manhood touched the walls of her femininity, Ranjini’s body automatically expanding to fit him like a glove. Before she could draw another breath, Ranjini felt herself being tossed into the middle of a raging ocean of sensations as she felt him moving inside her. The waves rose higher and higher, making her clutch on to his shoulders in a desperate grip, her legs clinging to his narrow waist as she locked them at the ankles, wary of falling off the edge. She couldn’t remember feeling even one-hundredth of the sensations that she was experiencing in Chandrakanth’s arms the last time.

  Her pulse beat soared as Chandrakanth drove into her rhythmically, their moans growing louder as they peaked. “Chandru...” Ranjini fell back on the bed, her body writhing in the aftermath of a staggering climax before she became limp.

  He pounded into her a few more times before Chandrakanth reached his orgasm and flopped beside her, spent. “You are mine,” he declared between gasps.

  7

  “You are going to get a beating from me one of these days.” The short and squat Maragadham had to look quite a way up as she shouted at Vivek who had just walked into Chandrakanth’s home in Nungambakkam the morning after the wedding. “How dare you joke about CK’s wedding? What if someone from the press hears it and publishes the news? His reputation is at stake here. I am…”

  “Periamma, please calm down and listen. I am not lying to you.” Vivek answered the matriarch patiently, his voice several decibels lower than hers. He was excellent at his job of calming down ruffled feathers. That was the reason why Chandrakanth had sent his Man Friday ahead to break the news to his aunt. “Chandrakanth met Ranjini a few days ago and wanted to marry her. She agreed and so did her parents. They tied the knot yesterday morning.”

  Maragadham sat on a sofa with a thump, her hand pressed to her forehead dramatically, still glaring at the messenger. “Who is this Ranjini?”

  “She’s the lady who runs CK’s website.”

  “Whatever that is! How the hell did she manage to ensnare CK in her net?” She didn’t bother to lower her voice, her temper mounting.

  Chandrakanth had given her asylum when Maragadham had decided that she didn’t want to live with either of her autocratic sons, Somu and Murali. Not that they were really autocratic. It was only that Maragadham liked to be in control and run everyone’s life. But her sons had refused to let her get away with it. That’s when she decided to come and live with her nephew who had no parents. Her life had been cushy all along with Chandrakanth so busy and non-interfering while there was a bottomless budget to run his home. All the servants danced to Maragadham’s tunes and that made her feel so superior. While she wasn’t really sure that Chandrakanth’s assistant Vivek followed her dictums, he never crossed the line and hence she let him be.

  But now, Chandrakanth had gone and got married, that too, without her knowledge. How would his wife respect her? Maragadham fumed in silence, her head buzzing in frustration and anger. While running Chandrakanth’s home was her responsibility, Maragadham never interfered in his personal or professional life. Not for want to trying.

  Maragadham had taken over the reins of Chandrakanth’s household seven years back. He had been twenty-two then. She had just walked in with three suitcases...

  “Hello Maragadham periamma, welcome, welcome! How have you been? It’s been more than a year since you visited.” Chandrakanth had taken her plump hands in his and squeezed them reassuringly.

  “Chandrakanth, I am so happy to see you. I heard that you are acting in a lot of movies nowadays. How are you managing your house? I was just telling Somu the other day that you must be all alone. Someone needs to take care of you.” Somu was her elder son. While Chandrakanth had been orphaned at seventeen, it had taken his aunt five years to realise that he was all alone. But Chandrakanth didn’t point that out.

  “You are welcome to stay here, periamma. You don’t have to worry about anything. My house is big. Consider it your home too.” It wasn’t just his house that was big, Chandrakanth’s heart was as big and giving too. And that’s how Maragadham had come to live in the superstar’s home.

  Maragadham immediately took over the running of his home, hiring and firing people to her heart’s content. Yes, she was excited about the big budget, the freedom it gave her, but never misused the funds, careful with her accounting. Chandrakanth had put his foot down when she negotiated wages for the staff. “By God’s grace, periamma, I’ve got a lot of wealth. Why not share some with the staff? And no, the money won’t disappear. There’s more where it’s coming from.”

  She couldn’t change his mind.

  Maragadham didn’t like Vivek having the run of Chandrakanth’s home. He even lived in the outhouse on the same compound. “Why does he have to walk in and out of our home?” She demanded of Chandrakanth.

  “Periamma, please understand that Vivek is not just an employee. He’s my best friend since school and he’s also like the brother I never had. He’s been with me from way before the time you arrived.”

  That settled it. Whether Chandrakanth meant it as a threat or not, Maragadham heard it as one. If Chandrakanth ousted Vivek from his position, then he might have no qualms doing it to her too. Maybe it was a good thing that Chandrakanth was extremely loyal to those around him.

  The last time she poked her nose into his business was when Chandrakanth had played the role of a man suffering from paralysis. “What is this Chandrakanth? You are so tall and handsome. Why do you want to play such a horrible role? Your mother’s heart would have broken if she had been alive.” Tears ran down Maragadham’s plump cheeks when she spoke to her nephew. The movie had already released and was receiving raving reviews, from fans as well as critics. But how could he play such a character—remaining on a wheelchair through the two and a half hours the film ran?

  Chandrakanth had laughed. “Periamma, you stick to managing our house and allow me to run my life. Okay?” Though he had spoken softly, his voice had been firm.

  Maragadham had gotten his message loud and clear: Keep off my territory. She had taken it on her chin, keeping in mind the kind of freedom that she had here. To begin with, Chandrakanth’s bungalow was way bigger than her sons’ houses. He also employed many people. That gave her an opportunity to dictate over that many people. He had a car and a driver completely at Maragadham’s disposal. Otherwise, she had always had to share. She didn’t plan to give up that kind of luxury, ever.

  But today, Maragadham had been shocked out of her wits on hearing the news that Vivek had carried with him. Marriage was such a huge thing. Chandrakanth hadn’t just not consulted his aunt—his mother’s elder sister—about the woman he wanted to wed, but had actually tied the knot without Maragadham’s knowledge.

  Maragadham’s mammoth ego wouldn’t let her admit even to herself that she felt more hurt than anything else in this matter. She straightened her shoulders. It didn’t make sense picking up a fight with Chandrakanth or Vivek for that matter. The deed was already done, for one thing. For another, Maragadham realised that her nephew wouldn’t be bothered if she raised
an objection. What was the use of picking up a one-sided fight? She needed a proper opponent. And that’s how Maragadham concluded that her nephew’s new wife would be the right one for the role.

  Her expression turning sly, Maragadham asked Vivek, “So what does this Ranjini do? You said something about a web...what is that?”

  Vivek looked at the old woman, not too happy with the cunning look in her eyes. “She’s an engineer. She runs her own business.”

  “Oh, does she? And where is her office?” Maragadham’s mind raced. Chandrakanth had gone to Ooty and had obviously got married there. She presumed that the girl was also from there. Did that mean that she would stop running her business and remain at home? Maragadham decided she was not going to give up her territory, certainly not without a fight. Oh, I truly hope that Ludo wouldn’t like his master’s wife, thought Maragadham, a wicked smile on her face. She adored the boisterous puppy and fed him more than he needed to be, resulting in Ludo becoming her slave for life.