Page 40 of Trapped By the Maharaja

Sanjana stormed into the master suite, her sandals clicking hard against the polished marble. She didn’t even wait for the door to shut before she spun on her heel, eyes blazing.

“What did you do to Rishan?” she demanded.

The door closed behind them with a soft thud. Ram stepped inside, unhurried, his presence filling the space. His voice was calm, too calm.

“I did what I told him I would do,” he said. “If he was ever found standing next to you.”

Her stomach dropped and anger filled her. “Do not treat me like that,” she hissed.

His brows lifted, calm and infuriating. “Like what?”

“Like I’m some… possession you’ve acquired.”

“You are my wife now,” he said evenly. “That makes you mine.”

Her pulse spiked in fury and something else. “I am not yours. I’m only here because you tricked me into this marriage with threats. And you dragged me into this palace and into your life without giving me a choice!”

“You had a choice,” he replied, his voice maddeningly calm. “You signed.”

Sanjana’s chest burned. “Because you left me no other option!” She stepped forward, glaring up at him. “You cornered me like prey, and you know it.”

Something flickered in his eyes. Suddenly, she felt the danger and heat as he stepped closer, closing the space between them. “Prey doesn’t fight the way you do. Prey is always weak and terrified. You are neither.”

Sanjana’s fists clenched at her sides, her heart hammering. She hated him. Hated his arrogance and his control. But her body betrayed her, shivering under the weight of his stare.

Sanjana’s fists trembled at her sides, her anger a wildfire she clung to for strength. “You think I’m yours just because of a contract? Because of a title?”

Ram’s gaze swept over her face, slow and deliberate. “I don’t think,” he said. “I know you are mine.”

Her breath hitched as he closed the last inches between them, the heat of his body searing into hers. She wanted to shove him back, to scream, but she stayed frozen, caught between resistance and surrender. “I’m not yours. I hate you and your touch disgusts me.”

His mouth twisted darkly. “Is that why you screamed my name the last two nights?”

Her cheeks burned.

“I let you touch me because it is my duty,” she said, her voice catching. “I’m fulfilling the terms of the contract. To give you an heir. Nothing else.”

His eyes darkened. “I see.”

Her breath caught in her throat at his dark tone. But she raised her chin in challenge. “The sooner I fulfil the terms of the contract, the faster I can gain my freedom.”

He didn’t say anything.

Sanjana broke eye contact first. She turned sharply, unwilling to let him see how much his words unsettled her. Without another word, she disappeared into the bathroom.

The sound of water filled the silence. She scrubbed her skin harder than necessary, as though she could wash away not only the day’s chaos but also the need that burned through her body lately.

When she emerged in a fresh nightdress, her hair damp, the master suite was set with a quiet dinner with two silver-domed trays waiting in the dining nook.

Ram had already changed out of his suit and was wearing just the white cotton pants he wore at night. He sat at the small dining table, looking at the messages on the phone. He looked up, sensing her presence, but didn’t speak when she joined him.

They ate in silence, the scrape of silver against porcelain the only sound between them. The meal tasted of nothing.

Finally, she set her fork down and looked at him. “What did you do with Rishan?” she asked. Suchitra Devi’s disapproval already felt heavy enough without adding more to the mix.

His head lifted, his gaze falling on her.

She forced herself not to look away. “If your mother finds out you beat Rishan again, especially because of me—”

“You should worry about yourself, not Rishan,” he cut in. “Worry about what I would do to you.”

Her pulse spiked. “I’m not scared of you,” she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her chest.

His mouth twisted into a dark smile. “You should be.”

Her heart raced at the words. It wasn’t in fear. It was in something more dangerous. Desire.

She pushed her chair back and rose, her chin high. It’s just anger, she told herself fiercely, ignoring the truth written in the way her pulse thundered at the mere sound of his voice. Only anger.

Taking a deep breath, she settled onto the velvet sofa with a stack of files in her lap, determined to focus.

She opened the hospital expansion plans first. The pediatric wing drawings were promising, and the timelines were progressing faster than she’d expected.

She flipped to patient records, scanning notes and lab results, letting the rhythm of work steady her.

But no amount of work could silence the awareness simmering inside her.

Across the sofa, Ram sat shirtless, his broad chest and muscled arms catching the lamplight. His attention was on the phone in his hand, scrolling through messages with an unreadable expression. He looked like a king even here, completely at ease in his skin, exuding authority without a word.

Sanjana’s grip tightened on her pen. She hated that her eyes kept betraying her, flicking over to his broad shoulders, the expanse of his muscular chest, lingering on the shiny pendant with Devara insignia buried under his masculine chest hair.

She hated the restless anticipation she felt for that night.

Focus. Stop letting him distract you.

She bent closer over her files, gritting her teeth, focusing on making notes. But her fingers trembled slightly when the silence stretched, thick with something she couldn’t ignore.

The old grandfather clock in the grand hall struck once, its deep chime carrying through the suite.

Her pen scratched harder over the paper.

It struck twice.

By the tenth chime, she was barely breathing.

On the twelfth, before the echo faded, her world tilted. Strong arms scooped her up, files tumbling from her lap.

“Ram!” she gasped, glaring up at him. “Put me down. I can walk.”

His expression didn’t change.

In two long strides, he carried her across the room and placed her on the king-sized bed.

Her pulse hammered as he climbed on top of her, balancing his weight on his arms. His gaze swept over her face for a long moment.

“I regret the past,” he said softly.

She was shocked by his words. “W-what?”

Is he going to confess what he did?

His dark eyes intensified. “I regret not taking you when you begged me to. I should have broken the self-imposed royal protocol. I shouldn’t have waited to make you my queen first. That only drove you into another man’s arms. I should fucked you thoroughly until you couldn’t walk and given us both what we wanted. ”

Her cheeks burned with anger and embarrassment. “You arrogant bastard! How dare you! I wouldn’t have allowed you to touch me. I found you boring then, and I find you boring now. You disgust me!”

His mouth twisted darkly. “Do I?”

“Yes! I already told you I endure your touch because of the contract!” she snapped.

The next moment, his hand slid under the hem of her cotton nightdress, bunching the fabric as he pushed it upwards.

She gasped as he pulled it over her head in one swift motion, leaving her bare beneath him.

His gaze traveled down her body, lingering on her breasts, her stomach, and the apex of her thighs covered only in a thin fabric.

The intensity of his hungry gaze made her skin burn.

“Still disgusted?” he asked, his voice a dark caress.

Her heart thundered. “Yes,” she gritted.

“Good.”

He lowered his head, his hot mouth closed around one hardened nipple.

She gasped, arching off the bed as he sucked, hard.

Her fingers tangled in the sheets. He moved to the other breast, lavishing it with the same slow, relentless attention, his tongue swirling, his teeth grazing just enough to make her cry out.

She bit her lip, fighting the moan building in her throat. He trailed lower, his lips blazing a path down her stomach. He paused at her navel, his tongue dipping, making her gasp again. She could feel the heat radiating from him, the sheer control he held in check.

He pushed down her panties, and then his hands slid under her thighs, spreading her legs wider.

Her face burned and she tried to control her heaving breaths as he looked between her legs.

And then, his eyes met hers. He held her gaze for a moment, a dark challenge in his eyes.

Then he lowered his head between her legs.

The first touch of his tongue was electric.

A jolt shot through her, and her back arched off the bed.

He didn’t tease. He feasted. His tongue was relentless, exploring her, tasting her, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves and circling it with firm, rhythmic strokes.

Her breath hitched, then came in ragged gasps.

Her hips lifted instinctively, seeking more of the devastating pressure.

A low moan escaped her, unbidden, as pleasure coiled tight in her belly, hot and demanding.

She clawed at the soft sheets as his tongue moved with cruel precision.

Every flick sent liquid fire through her veins, her body betraying her with every ragged gasp.

She tried to choke back the sounds rising in her throat, but a broken whimper escaped when he sucked hard on her intimate bud.

Her thighs trembled against his shoulders.

He didn’t relent. His hands pinned her hips down, forcing her to take the full, devastating intensity of his mouth. Heat pooled low in her belly, coiling tighter with each stroke. She bit her lip until she tasted blood, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing her unravel.

But her body was a traitor. Her back arched off the mattress, seeking more of that wicked tongue, her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps.

Soon, her control shattered. A choked sob tore from her throat as the coil inside her snapped.

Pleasure detonated, white-hot and blinding, radiating outwards until every nerve screamed.

Her body bowed violently off the bed, held down only by his iron grip on her hips.

“Ram!” The name ripped from her, echoing in the vast room as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her.

He lifted his head slowly, his lips glistening, his gaze locked on her flushed, trembling form. Her chest heaved, her eyes wide and dazed. A predatory satisfaction glinted in his dark eyes. “Does my touch still disgust you?” His deep voice cut through the haze of her climax.

Sanjana dragged in a shuddering breath. The aftershocks still pulsed through her, but angry defiance flared hot in her chest. “Yes,” she lied. She met his stare, chin lifted, ignoring the wetness between her thighs that screamed otherwise.

Ram’s dark chuckle was a rumble against her body. “Then let’s see if you can endure yet another night of your unwanted duty,” he said.

His powerful frame settled between her legs until she felt his hardness against her entrance, hot and heavy. And then he took her. But not in the desperate, hungry way they had spent the last two nights. This time, he was slow, agonizingly so.

He drove her crazy with his slow thrusts. Her inner muscles clenched helplessly around him, seeking movement, seeking the friction her body screamed for. But he didn’t give her what she wanted. He moved slowly, his gaze locked on her face, watching the battle between pride and desire in her eyes.

Her breath came out raggedly, her hips lifting instinctively only to be pinned back down by the weight of his body, his control absolute. Sweat beaded on her skin, her fingers twisting in the sheets as she fought the urge to writhe, to demand.

He watched her unravel with a predatory gaze, while he moved slowly against her.

He then lowered his head, and his teeth grazed her neck, and his tongue traced the shell of her ear, making her shiver in desire. She felt the stubble of his jaw rubbing against her sensitive skin.

“Still disgusted?” His voice was a low growl against her ear, his breath hot. He withdrew almost completely, leaving her achingly empty, hovering on the edge of the orgasm. Her hips lifted off the bed, seeking him, a silent, desperate plea.

He chuckled, a dark, satisfied sound that vibrated through her. “Use your words, Doctor. Tell me what you want.”

“I-I want you to make me come,” she gritted.

He raised his head, and his eyes glittered darkly.

And then, he began to move. He thrust back into her, hard and deep, stealing her breath.

There was no more slow teasing. It was pure hunger and possession.

He drove into her with brutal, relentless strokes, each thrust hitting a spot that sent sparks dancing behind her eyelids.

Her nails dug into the muscles of his back, and she bit the hard muscle of his shoulder. Soon, she shattered violently with a scream. Her inner muscles clenched tightly around him, drawing his release. A harsh groan tore from his chest as he emptied himself deep inside her.

He collapsed onto his forearms above her, breathing heavily, his sweat mingling with hers on the tangled sheets. For a moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breaths in the silence.

“I hate you,” she whispered, desperate to protect her heart even though her body had surrendered. “I will leave when the contract ends.”

He didn't respond. Instead, he rolled off her and pulled her limp body with him.

He dragged her against him until her head rested on top of his chest. She tried to move away, but his heavy, muscled arm lay across her in a possessive hold.

The familiar smell of citrus and sandalwood tingled her nose, soothing her.

And though she told herself it was weakness to give in, her body betrayed her by drifting into sleep to the steady rhythm of his heart.