Rajveer gave a small, content sigh and fixed his shawl carefully.
Ranjeet and Advika stood up at the same time and bowed politely to him.
Amma kissed his hand, and together they walked with him to the palace gate, where small oil lamps shined like stars on the warm sandstone walls.

“Thank you for coming, bhaiya,” Amma said in a gentle voice.

“And thank you for the tea, beta,” Rajveer told Advika with a kind smile. “A perfect bride.”

“Goodnight, Uncle,” she said softly.

They stood quietly and watched him disappear slowly into the dark courtyard.

When they returned inside the palace, the golden lights glowed warmly around the walls. A soft breeze came through the jharokha and moved the curtains. The room felt different now, quiet and waiting for something.

Amma yawned with a small smile, the kind only a mother can give.

“Alright, children,” she said with a playful tone. “I am going to sleep now. No talk about war, no talk about taxes, and no more serious things. Just rest.”

“Goodnight, Amma,” Advika whispered politely.

“Sleep well, Ma,” Ranjeet said quietly.

Amma gave them one last look with a smirk before going to her room.

A short moment later, the last maid also left the room and closed the big wooden doors behind her.

The room became silent.

Only Ranjeet and Advika were standing there.

Advika turned slowly without thinking and began picking up the empty tea cups from the tray, her fingers soft and careful.

At that moment a warm hand caught her wrist.

It was Ranjeet.

He stepped closer from behind, and she could feel his hot breath touching the side of her neck.

“Do not touch that,” he said in a low voice.

His voice no longer sounded playful. It was rough and heavy.

Her heart started beating faster.

“I was just cleaning up,” she whispered.

“You have done enough,” he said quietly.

His hand moved from her wrist to her waist. It stopped exactly where the gold chain was hidden under her sari. He touched it slowly, feeling the shape through the fabric.

“You really wore it,” he whispered close to her ear. “You sat with me for an hour and looked sweet and innocent, but the whole time this chain was sitting around your waist.”

“It is tradition,” she whispered. “Amma said so.”

“Amma gave me a curse,” he replied softly.

His fingers grabbed the chain more firmly through the sari, pulling it lightly as if to remind her that he knew.

Her breath became shallow.

“Do you know what this did to me?” he asked. “I was trying to sit still, but inside I was burning.”

“You did not look like it,” she whispered.

“I was fighting myself,” he said.

He leaned closer and his lips brushed against the shell of her ear.

“I wanted to lift your sari and see how low this chain goes. I wanted to taste the gold on your skin.”

Her knees felt weak and her hands trembled.

He slowly turned her body to face him and pressed her gently against the wall. The tray slipped from her hands and fell to the floor.

His hand stayed on her waist.

“Say it,” he whispered. “Tell me you wore it for me.”

“I… I wore it for you,” she breathed out.

“Good girl,” he said.

His fingers touched the pleats of her sari. His voice became deeper, filled with hunger. “Now I will make sure no one else ever sees it.”

He lifted her in his arms and carried her to their room.

When the door closed behind them, he did not speak. He just looked at her like she was the only thing in the world.

Advika stood at the center of the room wrapped in her soft sari. The gold chain around her waist caught the soft yellow light and made her look even more beautiful.

Ranjeet walked toward her slowly, like a predator moving carefully toward its prey.

“You knew what you were doing,” he said quietly.

“I did not mean to,” she whispered.

“Do not lie to me,” he said softly.

He moved behind her and gently slid the pallu off her shoulder. It fell down along her arm and dropped to the floor.

A sound escaped his throat, low and rough.

The gold chain shined clearly now, hugging her waist.

He lowered himself to his knees in front of her. His hands went to her waist, holding her gently. His mouth touched her skin for the first time and kissed it softly, right below the chain.

“You do not know what you are doing to me,” he whispered against her skin.

She shivered at the feeling.

He kissed lower, then bit her lightly, leaving small marks on her soft skin.

“I will kiss every place this chain touches,” he said.

“You will bruise me,” she whispered.

“Good,” he replied without hesitation.

His mouth followed the line of the chain, warm and slow. Her breathing became quick and uneven.

“I want you to remember this every time you wear a sari,” he whispered. “I want you to feel my mouth every time the chain touches your skin.”

She gasped as her body reacted to his words.

He kissed her again, long and slow.

Then he looked up at her from the floor.

“Lie down,” he said softly.

She listened to him. She moved slowly and carefully onto the bed, the folds of her sari slightly open to show the chain and the warm flush of her skin.

Ranjeet climbed on the bed, placing his hands on both sides of her hips. His face was close to hers now.

“I want to see you,” he whispered. “All of you.”

He touched the edge of her blouse softly and looked into her eyes. “May I take it off?”

She nodded gently and whispered, “Yes.”

His fingers worked the hooks at the back of her choli with deliberate slowness, each one undone sending a shiver down her spine. The blouse parted, revealing the smooth, dusky skin of her cleavage, and he peeled it away from her shoulders, letting it slide down her arms until it pooled at her elbows.

Her breasts spilled free, heavy and round, nipples already pebbled in the cool air of the chamber. Ranjeet's gaze locked on them, reverent yet feral, as if they were the most precious jewels in the maharaja's treasury. He cupped them from below, his palms rough against her softness, lifting their weight and feeling them overflow his hands. 'So perfect,' he growled, thumbs brushing over her nipples, circling the dark areolas until they tightened further.

Advika gasped, her sari's pallu slipping slightly from her shoulder as she arched into his touch. He squeezed her breasts firmly, kneading the flesh like dough, watching how they molded to his grip before bouncing back with resilient fullness. His mouth descended, hot breath fanning her left nipple before he captured it between his lips, sucking hard. His tongue lashed the peak, flicking rapidly while his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, tugging just enough to send sparks of pain-laced pleasure straight to her core.

She moaned, her hands fisting the fine cotton of his kurta, pulling him closer. Ranjeet switched to the right breast, lavishing it with the same attention—sucking deep, his cheeks hollowing as he drew her nipple into the wet heat of his mouth. Saliva glistened on her skin when he pulled back, only to slap his palm lightly against the underside of her left breast, making it jiggle enticingly. He did it again, harder, the sharp smack echoing in the quiet room, reddening the flesh as her nipple throbbed from the impact.

'Feel that sting?' he whispered, pinching both nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, rolling them roughly. He twisted them, pulling until she whimpered, her body trembling under the onslaught. Her sari's folds shifted with each involuntary buck of her hips, but he kept his focus solely on her chest, ignoring the heat building lower. His hands roamed the curves, tracing the veins beneath her skin, squeezing until faint bruises bloomed like henna patterns.

Ranjeet pushed her back gently onto the low charpoy bed, the woven ropes creaking under her weight. Her sari draped around her like a silken cocoon, but her upper body lay bare, breasts heaving with each ragged breath. He loomed over her, straddling her waist without pressing further, his knees pinning the fabric in place. Leaning down, he buried his face between her breasts, inhaling her scent—sandalwood and sweat—before biting the inner swell of one, hard enough to leave teeth marks that would darken by dawn.

Advika cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on. He lapped at the bite, soothing the ache with his tongue, then sucked her nipple again, this time biting down and holding, his teeth sinking in as he hummed against her skin. The vibration traveled through her breast, making her squirm. He released it with a pop, only to grab both mounds and mash them together, his tongue darting between them to lick the valley of her cleavage, tasting the salt of her skin.

His fingers dug in deeper now, massaging her breasts with possessive force, thumbs flicking her nipples in tandem—up, down, side to side—building a rhythm that had her panting. He pinched them sharply, then soothed with gentle strokes, alternating the torment until tears pricked her eyes from the overwhelming sensations. 'These are mine,' he declared, voice thick with lust, as he slapped her right breast again, watching it sway and redden. The left followed, the impacts making her nipples swell even more, hypersensitive and begging for mercy that he wouldn't grant.

Advika's body writhed beneath him, the sari's fabric bunching at her hips, but Ranjeet's hands never strayed. He lowered his mouth once more, taking as much of her left breast into his mouth as he could, sucking voraciously while his hand worked the other—kneading, twisting, pulling. Her moans filled the chamber, echoing off the carved jaali screens, as waves of pleasure coiled tight in her belly, untouched yet ignited solely from his relentless assault on her chest.

“You are trembling,” he whispered against her skin.

“You are making me,” she whispered back.

He smiled and kissed harder, leaving soft marks.

He moved down slowly, following the line of the gold chain.

“I am not finished,” he said.

“What else?” she whispered.

“Everything, but slowly,” he replied.

He kissed her just above her navel and then leaned over her again, breathing heavily.

She looked at him with her lips trembling.

“Commander,” she whispered.

He kissed her collarbone softly.

“Not tonight,” he said.

“Why?” she asked quietly.

“Because I want to make you crave it,” he whispered.

“I already do,” she whispered back.

He gave a small, deep laugh and then pulled the sheet over her body. He did not give her the blouse back and did not cover the gold chain.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to his chest.

“Sleep like this,” he said quietly.

“But I am not dressed,” she whispered.

“I do not care,” he said softly. “This is how I want you.”

She blushed and stayed in his arms. Her skin was warm, her breath soft, and she felt safe.

His breath touched her ear.

“You are mine now,” he whispered. “And tomorrow I will make you beg.”

She hid her face in his chest and he held her tightly.

They fell asleep slowly, wrapped in gold, warm breath, and the quiet promise of everything that would come next.