Page 33

Istudied his face, waiting for his answer.

But as he continued to stare at mine, a heavy silence settled in, revealing his inner anguish.

“Hum to uphaas kar rahein hain.

Humein gyaat hai ki aapki yahaan adhik awashyakta hai,”

(I’m just kidding.

I know your presence is needed here more.) I said, not wanting him to be distressed about it, and I closed my eyes, pressing my cheek against his chest again.

No more words were exchanged.

It was just us—him and me.

Alone, without anything else.

Without the past or the future.

Without certainty, without change. Without fear, without pain. Without happiness. Without anything. Just us. And peace.

As my ear rested against his chest, I could hear the steady rhythm of his heart beating.

His chest rose and fell slowly with every breath.

It felt like a song, a quiet melody that filled me with peace, love, and calm.

How easy it was to survive—just inhale and exhale—but how tragic it was to live.

I didn’t know if I had really lived in that moment for the past few months—or perhaps years—that led up to it, or if any of it counted as living.

But maybe in the future, when I look back and see what we went through together, with each other, against each other, having each other, or maybe not having each other, it would be worth calling a life.

A life I was undeniably and wholeheartedly living with him; no regrets.

I didn’t know if we would end up together or if there would be a tomorrow for us.

But I was certain there would be a name, a story, a saga—something to remember, cherish, retell, and recall.

The saga of us.

The saga of Rudra .

I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring—for me, for him, for us.

I didn’t know when or how we would be separated—maybe for the better, though not for us.

Maybe for him.

Maybe for the sake of being who we were, individually.

“When will you leave?”

His voice suddenly pulled me out of the chain of my thoughts.

“Tomorrow,”

I answered, tracing slow circles on his chest.

I closed my eyes again, letting his warmth soothe me.

Faint images flickered in my mind—us celebrating Holi together.

A memory, or maybe just a dream, before I drifted off to sleep.

I woke up to the sunlight trying to penetrate my vision.

They felt heavy as I tried to open my lashes, making me squint against the brightness.

I drew in a sharp breath from the discomfort.

When I grew more aware, I felt his heavy hand resting on my waist.

My back was pressed to his chest, and his chin rested atop my head.

My eyes flew open when I realised we had overslept.

I tried to turn, but it was impossible under his weight.

Still, I called him in a slow but urgent voice.

“Rudra, savera ho gaya hai.

Uthiye, sab aapki prateeksha kar rahe honge,”

(Rudra, wake up.

It’s morning already, everyone must be waiting for you.)

He inhaled deeply at the sound of my voice, and then, without a word, he pulled me even closer to him.

His broad palm rested firmly against my chest as he drew me into him, still lost in a deep sleep.

Beneath the comforter, I felt his feet brush against mine.

My lips parted instinctively at the sudden contact.

What the hell was he doing?

But then, what he did next twisted my stomach, sending a chill racing down my spine.

His hand moved up, fingertips grazing along my skin, until it gently—yet firmly—cupped the side of my neck.

I could feel his grip tighten, and a soft gasp escaped my lips.

Then, all at once, he turned me toward him.

Was this man getting turned on in the morning?

My eyes flew open, locking onto his face.

He still looked dizzy with sleep, his eyelids tinted red at the corners.

His hair was messy, curls falling in every direction, and I could tell he hadn’t slept so deeply in a long time.

The warm orange hues of the morning sunlight spilt across his face, making his features glow softly.

In a quiet voice, I said, “Uth jaaiye.

Sab dhoondh rahe honge hum dono ko,”

(Get up, they might be searching for us.)

I was feeling nervous… and undeniably aroused.

I had never seen him like this before.

He was silent, yes, but his eyes were loud, speaking a language I could understand.

His thumb traced slow, deliberate circles on the side of my neck, making my heart race.

I could feel what he wanted.

I could see the need and dangerous desire dancing in his eyes.

His touch was more than a caress—more sensual.

A dangerous kind of desire flickered in his gaze, intense and raw.

His sensual touch carried a hunger I hadn’t seen before.

I lowered my eyes, trying to bring him back to reality, trying to pull us both back.

That’s when I saw it.

My waist chain… looped loosely around his wrist.

My breath hitched at the sight, and memories of that night came flooding back, hitting me like a wave.

He slowly leaned in, his lips just inches away, and my pulse thundered in my ears.

A small, timid smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

I lifted my hand and gently pressed my palm to his cheek, nudging him away playfully, but trembling inside.

“Humaare lautne ki prateeksha kijiyega aap, jaise hum kar rahe the aapki do varshoan tak,”

(Wait for me till I come back like I waited for you for two years.) I teased him, trying to sit, but he immediately pulled me back, and my palms landed on his chest.

Looking intensely into my eyes, he asked, “Aap do varshoan ke liye peehar jaa rahin hain?”

(You’re going for two years?)

I could already see the tension and unease on his face at the news.

Playing a little, I gave a slight nod and muttered slowly, “kadachit usse adhik...

Ab aap to humaari god bhar nahi sakte, to tab tak hum wahi reh lenge.

Yahaan aane ka kya laabh?”

(Maybe more than that...

Now that you can’t make babies with me, what’s the point of being here with you? I’ll stay there and enjoy it.) I said it, and he immediately fisted my hair, pulling me closer to him.

“Kya kaha aapne?”

(What did you say?) I smiled teasingly and murmured slowly, looking deep into his eyes.

“Wahi jo aapne suna,”

(I said what you heard.)

And suddenly, he turned me beneath him, hovering over me with a dangerous closeness.

His face was so near, it blocked out everything else from my view.

I just stared blankly into his eyes as he said, “Bahut bolne lagi hai aap?”

(You talk too much.)

I smiled, meeting his gaze with the same intensity, and replied slowly, “To chup kara dijiye humein,”

(So shut me up,)

He stared blankly at my face.

I watched his pupils shift—his gaze slowly drifting from my eyes to my lips.

A faint, sly smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned close to my ear.

My head tilted slightly, and a shiver ran down my spine when he whispered, “Better not choke when I would.”

I instantly pushed him away and sat upright, my heart pounding wildly as I processed what he meant.

“Hahahaha,”

He chuckled warmly.

“After all, you have such a slender neck,”

he added, still in that teasing tone.

I couldn’t even describe how flushed and timid I felt at that moment.

I gave his chest a light slap and muttered, “Rudra!”

That only made him laugh harder.

I stood up and adjusted my dupatta.

“Humein samay par nikalna hai, aapne to aaj avkaash le rakha hai kaam se kadachit,”

(I need to leave on time, you seem like you’ve taken a day off from work,) I said, and he stopped me, holding my wrist.

I turned my gaze to him.

He was lying on the mattress, his hand gripping mine firmly, his eyes filled with love.

A quiet silence followed as I tried to make sense of the look in his eyes.

When, in a slow voice, he said, “ ke bina Rudra bhi kuch nahi...

aapki tarah hum apni bhavnaon ko aksharoan ki maala mein piro to nahi sakte, parantu aag dono taraf barabar lagi hai,”

(There is no Rudra either without ...

unlike you, I can't put my emotions into words, but the feelings are mutual.) he spoke, and his words made my heart feel heavy.

The memories from last night surfaced in my mind, and I lowered my gaze.

I couldn’t say anything—not after reaching the finish line of my thoughts, not after saying more than I should have, not after making everything so clear.

I looked up again when I felt him intertwine our fingers.

He sat up slowly and brought the back of my hand to his lips, kissing it lovingly.

“Wear yellow, little sunflower,”

he said.

A wide smile spread across my face when I heard him call me little again.

He smiled too, and I gently pulled my hand away.

“Humein vilamb ho raha hai, Ranaji,”

(I’m getting late, Ranaji,)

I said nothing more and walked off, adjusting my dupatta over my head as I stepped down from the terrace to return to the chamber.

“Where the hell were you? I looked for you everywhere!”

Suman’s voice hit me the moment I entered.

Her brows were drawn together, and she scanned me from head to toe. “Wait,”

she said, narrowing her eyes.

She circled around me in suspicion, studying me from every angle.

“Are you having an affair with someone?”

she asked, stepping closer with wide eyes.

“Why does it look like you slept with someone? And where were you last night, ? You know Ranaji will lose it if he finds out.

You should’ve told me.

What if someone had asked about you? What would I have said?”

She blurted out in a mix of panic and frustration.

And as I looked into her eyes, I could see genuine concern and sadness.

I furrowed my brows slightly, seeing how worried she looked, and replied jokingly, “Yes, I went to meet my lover.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “What???”

she squeaked in sheer fear.

I simply nodded and continued walking into the chamber, ignoring her.

She hurried after me.

“, Ranaji will be furious! He’ll kill me first, and then you!”

I stopped and turned to her with a pleasant smile.

“He won’t.

Don’t worry.

He’ll never find out about my affair.”

Her eyes grew even wider as she stepped closer, whispering, “, you love him.

Remember?”

I raised an eyebrow, pretending to think. “Do I?”

Her face turned pale with panic.

She shook her head slowly.

“No, …”

she murmured, scared.

I couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst into laughter.

“Suman, I was with him,”

She stared at me, agape, looking like she couldn’t believe what she heard.

I kept laughing, and she gave me an upset look.

“I was really worried! I didn’t even sleep properly last night,”

she said, frowning.

Softening, I reached out and said gently, “Come here.”

I pulled her into a warm, tight hug.

“I’ll keep it in mind next time,”

I whispered.

She smiled.

“Okay, but I’m still dying to know what happened,”

she said.

I released the hug and looked at her with a playful grin.

She looked back curiously, and I asked, “Really?”

She chuckled deeply, and I smiled along with her.

“By the way,”

I said, “we must leave for Mahabaleshgarh.

I’m going to take a bath—get ready while I do,”

Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

she asked eagerly, and I nodded.

She hugged me tightly, excited.

“Let me go pack my things!”

she said, and I chuckled deeply as she rushed off.

I walked into the bathroom and took a quick bath.

After which, I walked to the dressing room and wore a yellow lehenga as my dear husband demanded.

I let my wet hair air dry while I was wearing my jewellery.

My lips hummed a tune on their own as I got ready.

I didn’t know why, but I felt so excited to see my parents, my Daadisa, and everyone else back home.

“Ho gayi taiyaar?”

(You ready?)

I shivered at the sudden voice and turned to see him stepping into the dressing room.

He seemed to have bathed because he was dressed in a maroon outfit with an overcoat draped over it.

A slight smile appeared on my face, but the next moment, my heart began to race as I watched him quietly close the door behind him.

Not just close, but he locked it with his eyes fixed on mine.

I blinked, a bit nervous, and lowered my gaze, asking softly, “Why are you locking the door?”

He walked toward me, each step slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving mine.

My brows drew together slightly in confusion, and I looked up into his eyes as he stopped right in front of me.

“Aap chaahti hai ki hum aapke saath Holi manaye?”

(Do you want me to celebrate Holi with you?) He spoke in a deep, sensual voice, and I blinked, feeling butterflies flutter in my stomach.

“Kaun patni nahi chaahegi ki unke pati unhe rang lagaye?”

(Which wife wouldn't want her husband to colour her?) I asked, then lowered my gaze to my arm as he trailed his finger along it, from where my bangles ended to the bare skin above.

Cold water droplets still clung to my collarbones, dripping down, and I lifted my gaze again when he spoke softly, deliberately.

“Then you’ll have to wear this for me.

It’s your Holi gift.”

I frowned slightly, puzzled by his words.

He brought his other hand forward, revealing something resting in his palm.

My eyes shifted to it in confusion.

It was a finely carved gold ornament—an oval about the length of my thumb, smooth-edged and shining.

On its end, a delicate gold chain was attached, and to its end was a small, plain golden ring.

“What is it? A ring?”

I asked, still unsure, as I took it in my hand and tried slipping the ring onto my finger.

“But this ball will hang like this?”

I examined, feeling the slight weight of the object.

“It is weird,”

I said, and he took it back from my hand.

“Turn around,”

he said, and I confusedly looked at him.

“Is it meant to be worn in the hair?”

I asked as I turned, catching the faint smile on his face in the mirror.

He gently pushed my damp hair over my shoulder and said, “Bend forward, hands on the table.”

I narrowed my brows, still unsure.

“So...

you're going to tie it in the strings of my blouse?” I asked.

He let out a deep chuckle when I saw him take the ornament into his mouth.

He guided me forward with his hand and leaned in, hovering over me.

My eyes met his intense and unreadable gaze in the mirror.

My heartbeat picked up in a rush when I felt his hand at the hem of my skirt.

He wrapped one arm around my waist, drawing me in closer, lifting the fabric slightly with the other.

I caught a glimpse of the ornament again as he took it from his mouth.

At that moment, I began to understand what it was truly for.

“Happy Holi, little seductress,”

he whispered, and my cheeks flushed hot.

He reached beneath the layers of my skirt, closer to my thighs.

I could barely breathe from the flurry of feelings swirling inside me.

“Isn't it...

Too big for me?”

I asked quietly, flustered.

He kissed my cheek and replied with a smile, “It's the smallest one—and just right for you.”

Then, leaning closer, he whispered in my ear, “Wait for me.

I’ll be back soon.

And until then, don’t you dare take it off,”

A shiver ran through me.

I lowered my gaze to the table's surface, completely flushed.

“Widen your legs a little, little wife,”

he murmured, his warm breath fanning against my ear.

His fingertips reached on my inner thigh, feathering it, making me shudder.

I rose slightly onto my toes, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation.

“Ahhmm…”

I exhaled shakily, trying to steady myself as his touch sent ripples through my skin.

“Relax,”

he slowly stroked my core and murmured in a sensual tone near my ear.

“Calm down,”

I bit my lower lip, my lashes forced closed, and my lips parted when I felt the cold touch of the metal against my sensitive flesh.

It felt extremely foreign to my body, yet incredibly smooth.

“Easy, little bird,”

he muttered, slowly sliding it into me.

And in one swift push, it was inside me.

“Aaahhhh….”

A moment of pain stung me with a rush of sensations.

It felt uneasy and cold inside me.

He pushed it deeper inside with his finger, and I felt my flesh adjusting to it, clenching it in its hold. “Ahhhhh,”

“Does it hurt?”

He asked, and I blinked, feeling warmth oozing in my body with waves of cold sensations passing occasionally.

It was in me, deep inside.

And I shook my head lightly at the presence of it.

It wasn’t pain that I was feeling—It was something else.

Something I didn’t have the words for.

He gently caressed my core and lowered my skirt.

The gold chain and the ring attached to it brushed against my inner thigh, a soft weight that made my breath hitch.

He straightened, but somehow, my focus narrowed to that one spot where the sensation lingered, pulsing inside me.

I, too, stood straight and glanced at my reflection in the mirror.

My face was flushed deep pink, and my slightly parted lips were darker than usual.

“How does it feel?”

he asked.

I drew a slow breath, biting my lower lip to calm my racing heartbeat.

I shifted a little, testing the sensation, and a shy smile etched over my face.

“Hard,”

I whispered.

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around me from behind.

“You’ll get used to it in some time,”

he murmured against my ear.

I swallowed nervously.

“Sometime? What do you mean by sometime? How long is that?”

I asked quickly, my voice barely above a whisper.

And as I breathed in to say more, it struck me—sharp and unexpected. “Ahhhh…”

I clamped my mouth shut, wide-eyed, staring at him as a rush of heat swept through me.

It felt… good.

Far too good.

I was caught between disbelief and desire, wondering how something that felt so wrong in thought could feel so right in reality.

Even the slightest of movements sent a shiver down my spine.

I felt...

flustered, breathless.

Aroused.

I remembered one of the seduction lessons about intimate ornaments.

My master had said that a couple might use such things to heighten their pleasure and explore new angles of intimacy.

But it required immense trust and patience.

I looked down, blinking nervously.

“Where did you get it from?”

I asked in a hushed voice.

He smiled, meeting my eyes through the mirror, and leaned closer to my ear.

“I have so many gifts for you, little seductress,”

he whispered.

Just those words made a thousand butterflies flapping their wings in my stomach.

It felt alluringly secretive, like something only we knew—intimidating yet thrilling.

I was aroused in ways I couldn’t name, and it was killing me already.

We stayed silent for a while until I managed to calm myself and looked back into his eyes.

I knew I’d be needing him soon.

“Jaldi aayiega.”

(Please come soon.)

I spoke in a slow voice and closed my eyes for a moment, letting myself feel the warmth of his touch against my back.

We stood still, simply staring into each other’s eyes through the mirror.

He scanned me from top to bottom, taking in every detail of my appearance.

Without a word, he leaned forward and reached for the tiny vermilion bottle placed on the table.

A small, timid smile touched my lips as he took a pinch between his fingers and gently filled the empty partition of my hair. “Mine,”

he said softly.

I turned to look at him, and the moment I moved, a wave of sensation rushed down my spine, making a quiet moan escape me. “Ahh…”

I quickly grabbed his hand to steady myself.

I felt like I'd lost all my words, and my heart raced, my mind spun, and my breathing was uneven.

He smiled devilishly at my reaction and leaned in to peck my cheek.

“Now, you're glowing,”

he said, and I blinked timidly.

I just had to endure it until he came… but it already had me on an edge.

I felt weak and full, overflowing with sensation.

“Will I feel like this until you take it out?”

I stammered, my voice caught in my throat, barely making it out through the tightness building inside me, due to my throbbing core.

He gently brushed my cheek with his fingertips.

“You’ll know soon enough,”

he murmured.

I blinked, still dazed, when suddenly, a loud knock on the door startled me.

I stepped away from him quickly, straightening my clothes and grabbing my dupatta.

I covered my head and gave myself one last look in the mirror.

“Yes?”

he called out.

A voice came from the other side of the door.

“Ranaji, Prince Agastya has come to meet Ranisa,”

the lady attendant informed.

He frowned and replied curtly, “Okay.”

“What is he doing here?”

he muttered under his breath and walked to open the door.

I bit back a smile, catching a flicker of jealousy in his eyes, and followed behind him.

With each step I took, a thousand sensations coursed through my body, making me abruptly slow my pace.

He turned to glance at me once before opening the door.

I was aching to touch myself, craving a release.

Still, strangely, I felt… good.

He chuckled, catching my struggle, and I shot him an annoyed glare.

“You’ll pay for this,”

I grumbled, stepping slowly toward the door.

As I adjusted my dupatta, he gently took my hand.

Bringing it to his lips, he kissed it softly, then suddenly pulled me close, sneaking his arm around my waist.

“Ahhh,”

a soft gasp escaped me as a jolt of current ran through my body.

My eyes widened.

“Ayeee,”

I couldn’t help the reaction.

It was clear he’d done it deliberately.

And he just smiled, definitely enjoying himself.

“I don’t want you to forget me for even a single moment… little sunflower,”

he whispered, giving a quick lick to my earlobe, making me jump into my place.

He lifted me slightly, cupping my cheek with his free hand, and leaning in, brushed his lips against mine.

He kissed me deeply, intensely.

I rose onto my toes, giving in.

His lips moved against mine, slowly, sucking gently with intense passion.

In just a few moments, I was aroused—completely undone.

He pulled back slowly, and I blinked, shivering, feeling the sensations still dance across my skin.

Smiling, he placed a light kiss on my forehead.

Inhaling deeply, I pushed him back a little and cleared my throat.

“I’m getting late,”

I said softly.

We both walked out to meet Agastya.

“Bhabhi-sa,”

Agastya greeted, his face lighting up with an excited smile.

But it vanished the moment his eyes landed on him.

“Why the hell is he always behind you?”

Agastya muttered under his breath, and Rudra shot a glare his way.

And I couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

Turning my attention back to Prince Agastya, “Ji, devarsa, aaiye,”

(Devarsa, welcome.) I greeted him, trying to sound as normal as possible.

He furrowed his brows and asked, “Are you okay?”

and my cheeks instantly flushed even deeper.

I glanced abruptly at my husband, wondering if he knew… Did he know?

“Wh… What… Why? Yes… I am…”

I blinked nervously.

“I’m okay,”

I managed to say, even though I felt anything but okay.

It was overwhelming—all those lingering sensations.

It felt like I was being pleasured, right in front of everyone.

Suddenly, Rudra stepped closer and placed his hand on my shoulder.

I lowered my gaze for a moment.

“She’s just feeling a little nervous,”

he said easily.

“It’s her first Holi after marriage, and she’s going to her family home.”

Agastya’s face lit up immediately.

“Ohh, wonderful! Then we should come along too, to celebrate and meet your family.

It’s the festival, after all!”

I smiled widely, and another wave of sensation hit me, but I quickly masked it.

“Yes… Yes, please do.

My parents will be so happy to meet you, especially my grandmother.

She’s very funny and cute,”

I said, trying to match his excitement.

But all our excitement went down the drain when he said, “Agastya, you have a lot of work today.

Don’t forget, we’re expecting guests.”

Agastya’s smile dropped, and he looked at me apologetically.

“Sorry, Bhabhisa.

Maybe we can find time tomorrow for a proper celebration.”

I smiled, hiding my disappointment.

Turning to him, I muttered slowly, “Aap, aur humaare dono devar yadi saath chalenge, to humein bahut accha lagega, Ranaji,”

(If you and both my brothers-in-law come along, I’ll feel immensely delighted, Ranaji.) He stared at me blankly, then looked toward Agastya.

“You talk to her.

I have to meet Ranvijay,”

he said, smiling briefly.

Then his eyes met mine.

“I’ll meet you outside in a little while.”

I nodded, and he walked away, leaving us alone.

Agastya moved to the couch.

“Ji, Bhabhisa, kahiye.

Usse poorv aap baithiye.”

(Yes, Bhabhisa, tell me—and first, please take a seat.)

I smiled and walked over to sit beside him, but the moment I tried to sit, I instantly stood up again.

“Ahhhh…”

A soft, embarrassing cry escaped my lips as a sharp sensation shot down my body.

Agastya stood up quickly, eyes filled with concern.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

I inhaled deeply and forced a smile.

“Ye… yes, umm… my back is hurting a little.

I… I slipped.

On the stairs,”

I blabbered whatever, and he looked at me, puzzled but concerned.

“Oh… slipped on the stairs?”

he repeated slowly.

I nodded quickly.

“Yes! I was… dancing, I mean, walking carefully in my bedroom.

And I slipped on the stairs.”

His brows knitted together in uncertainty.

“You were walking in your bedroom… and slipped on the stairs?”

I nodded again without thinking—then froze.

Wait.

What? There are no stairs in my bedroom.

My brain screamed at me, but it was too late.

This was the result of what my husband had done to me.

The way he had pushed me to the edge, the sensual madness.

Now, I was out here, flustered, aching, and trying to act normal, like being naked but hidden.

Agastya laughed softly.