The moment the door shut behind them, Ranjeet moved like a storm contained in silk.

He didn't speak.

Just reached.

Caught her wrist.

Spun her into the wall — not hard, but enough for her breath to catch and her body to freeze in anticipation.

The cool marble kissed her back.

His heat met her front.

Caged. Possessed. Claimed.

"You remember what I told you," he murmured, voice low, hungry, deadly soft against her ear.
"About this jewelry?"

Her breath hitched.
She nodded.

He tilted his head.

"Say it, Chotu."

"Y-You said... you'd take it off the same way you put it on."

He smirked — dark, dangerous, devout.

"Exactly."

Then—

His mouth crashed into hers.

No teasing.

No waiting.

Just full, desperate heat as his lips molded over hers, his hand slipping behind her head, tilting her for deeper access. His other hand slid down her back, gripping her waist, pulling her flush against him.

She gasped into his mouth — and that was all the permission he needed to dominate the kiss completely.

Then he pulled away, barely.

His fingers reached behind her neck — the sapphire necklace undone with a practiced flick.

It dropped to the floor like a vow.

"One."

He didn't move to the next immediately.

He dragged his lips down the side of her neck, trailing fire, pausing at the curve of her collarbone. Nipping. Kissing. Tongue warm, slow, tormenting.

She arched, biting her lip.

His hands slid up — brushing her hair back.

Earrings.

He unclasped one, then the other, but didn't stop there. His mouth replaced the metal, brushing her lobe, then sucking it gently, just once.

"Two."

Her knees wobbled.

His hand dropped lower.

Found the bangles.

He pulled them off one by one, kissing her wrist after each. Then licking the soft underside of her arm before whispering—

"Three."

She whimpered.

"R-Ranjeet..."

"Shhh," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the center of her palm.
"Still so much more to go."

His hands went lower.

Slipped behind her.

Found the chain at her waist.

"I saved this one for last."

He didn't unhook it immediately.

He knelt.

Knelt.

His mouth pressed to her belly, just above the jeweled curve of the chain. She nearly cried out.

"You were glowing all night," he said, voice muffled against her skin.
"Now I want to see how you burn."

Then his teeth grazed the clasp.

Unhooked it.

The chain fell with a soft clink to the floor.

"Four."

He stood slowly.

Looked her in the eye.

"Now..."

"What else do you want me to take off, Chotu?"

Her eyes widened.

Her lips parted.

But her voice?

Gone.

And Ranjeet... just smiled.

Ranjeet stood in front of her, eyes locked on hers.

He had stripped her of every jewel.

But not of control.

No — he gave her that.

He waited.

Until her breath came too fast.

Before she could respond, his hands were on her again — warm palms sliding around her waist, fingers toying with the edge of her blouse.

He didn't rush.

He teased the knot — letting his knuckles brush the underside of her breast as he did, watching her every reaction.

When it came loose, he didn't pull it off.

Not right away.

Instead, he leaned in, lips pressing to her shoulder, then her collarbone, then lower still—just beside the curve of her chest.

"Here?" he whispered, barely touching her.

She gasped.

His tongue traced the softest path—close, so close, never quite enough.

His hands cupped her slowly, reverently, thumbs grazing over sensitive skin as he kissed and whispered things that made her knees threaten to give out.

And then he slid lower.

Kneeling again, but this time, not for jewelry.

His hands traveled over her hips, down her thighs, lifting the layers of sari inch by inch until he could kiss the inside of her leg, right above the knee.

She trembled.

"Can I move my head up, Chotu?" he murmured, breath hot against her skin.

"Yes..."

His fingers slid upward — soft, slow, teasing.

Not touching where she burned. Not yet.

Just circling. Brushing. Ghosting over the silk of her underclothes, enough to make her entire body ache with tension.

"You're shaking," he murmured.

"You're making me."

"Good."

He smiled.

Dark.

Dangerous.

Worshipful.

The room was thick with heat.

Not from the air — but from them.

Advika lay back on the plush bedding, her skin glowing gold in the lamplight, breath shallow, chest rising and falling in fast, uneven waves. Her nightdress was bunched around her waist now, her thighs spread, trembling.

Ranjeet knelt between them.

Not in hesitation, but in complete control.

One hand gripped her thigh, firm and grounding. The other traced slow, burning lines along her inner leg. She was already slick and aching from his mouth — her skin damp, her hair clinging to her temple. She'd never known her body could feel like this — so open, so hot, so desperate.

His voice was dark velvet as he looked up at her.

"Keep your eyes on me, jaan," he murmured, "and don't hide those sounds. I want to hear everything."

She nodded shakily.

Then he slid one finger inside her.

Advika gasped — a high, sharp sound — and her back arched violently, the tension in her thighs snapping like a taut thread.

The wet sound echoed softly through the room as his finger moved slowly, in and out, curling deliberately inside her. The feeling was overwhelming. Too deep. Too intimate. Too... good.

"C-Commander," she whimpered, her voice cracking, breath catching in her throat.

His eyes didn't leave her face for a second. "That's it. Say my name like that again."

She tried to stifle the next moan, but failed.

"Ah—!"

The sound spilled from her lips as his finger curled again, pressing against that one devastating spot inside her. Her nails clawed at the sheets, her hips lifting instinctively.

Then — without warning — a second finger joined the first.

Shlick-shlick.

The stretch made her cry out again, louder this time, body writhing beneath him.

Her voice was breathless. "It's... too much, I—"

"It's perfect," he growled against her skin, leaning over her. His thumb found her swollen clit, and with one slow circle — just one — she nearly came undone.

A strangled moan ripped from her throat. Her legs tried to close, but he gripped them apart, forcing her to stay open.

"Let me see you fall apart," he said. "Don't fight it."

"Ahh—!"
"Ranjeet...! Please—"

His fingers moved faster now — steady, confident, wicked. The slick sound of her wetness mixed with her soft, broken cries. Her body twisted, her thighs trembling uncontrollably.

She felt like she was being unraveled from the inside.

Her moans grew higher. Faster. Louder. She could barely breathe.

Then his lips brushed her ear.

"Come for me, my queen."

And she shattered.

Her cry tore through the room — sharp and gasping — as her walls clenched around his fingers, her entire body pulsing. He didn't stop, drawing every wave from her until she collapsed into a breathless, limp mess beneath him.

He pulled his fingers out slowly — shlick — and looked at her.

Her skin was damp, flushed, glowing.

Her chest rose in rapid bursts. Her eyes were glazed with tears of release. Her legs were still twitching, thighs painted with proof of her pleasure.

He climbed beside her, licking his fingers clean as she watched in shock, eyes wide and dazed.

"You taste like addiction," he said lowly, brushing a kiss across her jaw.

She could barely speak.

"That... that wasn't fair," she mumbled, flushed and panting.

His smirk was pure sin. "Fair? Advika, I've only just started."