Ishita's Perspective

The cabin of the private jet suddenly felt very small and very hot. As the engines hummed to a steady roar, lifting us high above the clouds, Rudra's kiss became a storm. It was deep, hungry, and full of the three years of longing he had buried deep inside his soul.

I couldn't match his strength; I never could. I clung to his broad shoulders for balance as he leaned over me, forcing me back against the soft leather of the sofa. My **chooda clinked** frantically as my hands searched for a grip on his silk shirt.

"Ru... wait..." I breathed against his lips, but the protest died in my throat as his hand slid beneath the hem of my cord-set top.

His palm was large and warm, his skin rough against my soft curves. When his fingers finally closed over my breast, a sharp, uncontrolled moan broke from my lips. "Mmm... Rudra..."

"You're so soft, *Janna*," he growled into my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin right above my **mangalsutra**. "Every time I touch you, I feel like I'm finally breathing."

He didn't stop. His other hand began a slow, torturous descent, the fabric of my pants offering no protection against his determination. I felt the heat of his palm against my thigh, moving upward until his fingers found the edge of my lace.

"Ah! Ru... please..." I gasped, my head falling back against the leather. My toes curled inside my shoes-the ones he had just tied so carefully. The contrast of his "gentleman" behavior at the mansion and this "predator" in the jet was making my head spin.

"Please what, Ishi?" he whispered, his **ocean-blue eyes** dark with a raw, primal desire as he looked down at me. "Tell me what you want. We're thirty thousand feet in the air. No one can hear you scream my name but me."

"Don't... don't stop," I whimpered, my hands tangling in his dark hair, pulling him back down to my lips.

"I told you," he rasped, his fingers finally making contact with my damp heat, causing my hips to arch off the sofa involuntarily. "I'm not letting you sleep. Not today. Not in Paris. Never."

👑 Rudra's Perspective

I shifted my weight, pinning her deeper into the plush leather as I felt her body begin to tremble under my touch. My thumb traced the line of her jaw before my hand moved to the small pearl buttons of her cord-set top. One by one, they popped open, revealing the golden glow of her skin and the delicate lace that barely contained her.

I lowered my head, my lips trailing fire down her throat until I reached the swell of her breast. I let out a low, possessive growl, kissing the soft curve of her skin while my other hand remained buried inside her pants.

"Ru... ah! *Mmm...*" she cried out, her back arching as my fingers found the center of her heat.

I didn't just touch her; I teased her. I moved my hand slowly, rubbing the damp fabric of her silk panties against her sensitive folds, feeling the way she was already slick and ready for me.

"You're so loud for me today, *Janna*," I whispered against her skin, my voice a dark, velvet caress. "Is it the height? Or just the fact that you know I can do whatever I want to you up here?"

"Please... Rudra... *hnnngh*... it feels too much," she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut, her **long curly hair** fanning out across the cream leather like silk.

"It's never enough," I countered, my fingers rhythmically pressing into her, making her **payals** jingle frantically with her every twitch. I felt her breath hitch as I circled her most sensitive spot with deliberate, torturous slowness. "Look at me, Ishita. Open your eyes."

She struggled, her lashes wet with tears of pleasure, until her hazy brown eyes met my burning **ocean-blue** ones.

"That's it," I rasped, leaning down to nip at her bottom lip. "I want to see the moment you lose control. I want to see those eyes turn dark because of what I'm doing to you."

"You're... you're so bad," she whimpered, her hands clenching into fists against my shoulders, her **chooda** clinking a desperate rhythm.

"I'm only bad for you, Mrs. Rathor," I flirted darkly, my hand moving faster now, sliding past the lace to make direct contact with her wetness. "Tell me, *Janna*... does your 'Patidev' satisfy you more than those boys in Korea? Or do I need to work a little harder?"

"Ah! Ru! Stop... *mmm*... don't talk... just... *oh god*!" she screamed softly as a wave of pleasure hit her, her legs wrapping around my waist to pull me even closer.

I smirked, the predator in me reveling in her surrender. I wasn't going to let her off that easily. I wanted her completely undone before we even saw the lights of Paris.

I shifted my weight, my knee parting her legs further as I kept her pinned against the leather. My fingers were relentless, moving with a rhythm that had her gasping for air. I pulled back just an inch to look at her-her lips were swollen from my kisses, her face flushed, and her **brown eyes** were glazed with a beautiful, raw hunger.

"Ru... please... I can't... *ahhh!*" she cried out, her head thumping back against the sofa. The **jingle of her payals** was constant now, matching the frantic pace of her heart.

"You can, *Janna*," I whispered, my voice thick with a dark, commanding heat. "I want you to feel every single second of this. I want you to remember this feeling whenever you look at the sky."

I slid two fingers deep into her, finding the perfect angle. She let out a high-pitched, broken moan that echoed through the luxurious cabin. "Mmm... *Rudra!* Too much... it's... *hnnngh*... so deep..."

"Is it?" I teased, my thumb finding that tiny, sensitive peak and flicking it with a wicked precision. "Then tell me to stop, Ishita. Tell your 'arrogant' husband that you've had enough."

"No... don't... *aaaah!* Don't stop... *Ru, please!*" She surged upward, her body seeking more of the friction, her **chooda clinking** as she grabbed my wrists, trying to pull my hand even closer.

"That's my girl," I growled, satisfied.

I leaned down and swept her up into my arms, never letting my hand leave its place inside her pants. She gasped, wrapping her arms around my neck for dear life as I stood up, walking toward the private bedroom at the back of the jet.

"Rudra! What if... *mmm*... what if they hear?" she whimpered as I kicked the bedroom door open and tossed her onto the silk-covered bed.

"Let them," I said, unbuckling my belt just to loosen it, though I kept my clothes on. I crawled over her like a predator, my fingers continuing their torturous work beneath the lace. "In this jet, my word is law. And my law says you don't get to stop moaning until I say so."

"Ah! *Ru... hnn...* you're so mean... *mmm*... but it feels... *oh god, yes!*"

She started to shake, her hips jerking against my hand in a desperate search for release. I leaned over her, my **ocean-blue eyes** watching every flicker of emotion on her face.

"Call me," I commanded, my voice a low, vibrating thread of steel. "Tell me who owns this, Ishi."

"You... *ah!* Only you... *Patidev*... Rudra... *aaaaah!*"

As she hit her peak, her body went rigid, her voice breaking into a series of soft, helpless cries that were muffled against my shoulder. I held her tight, feeling the aftershocks of her pleasure ripple through her small frame, my fingers still buried deep, savoring the way she squeezed them in her release.

I stayed like that for a long time, just holding her in the quiet of the bedroom, the only sound the distant hum of the jet and her shaky, uneven breaths.

"Paris is going to be the death of me," she whispered into my chest, her voice tiny and exhausted.

"No, *Janna*," I murmured, kissing the top of her head. "Paris is just where I start living."

I leaned back against the headboard, pulling her soft body closer until she was draped across me like a silken blanket. My hand instinctively found its way into her **long curly hair**, stroking the messy tangles I had caused.

She adjusted her clothes with a shy, clumsy haste, her cheeks still stained a deep rose. Then, she crawled back up and tucked her head into the crook of my neck, her **mangalsutra** cold against my skin while her body remained a furnace of heat.

"Desperate pati hai mera," she whispered, her voice still a little breathless and raspy from the screaming. She looked up at me with those big, playful brown eyes. "Mujhe nahi pata tha you were controlling yourself this much at home."

I let out a low, dark chuckle that rumbled deep in my chest. I tightened my grip on her waist, my **ocean-blue eyes** glinting with a mix of amusement and lingering hunger.

"Controlling myself?" I repeated, my voice husky. "Ishi, at home, there are walls with ears. There's a family that thinks I'm a 'Cold Prince' and a wife who thinks she needs 'rest.' But here? There's nothing between us and the stars."

I tilted her chin up, my thumb grazing her swollen lower lip. "If I didn't control myself at the mansion, we would have never made it to the airport. Your 'desperate' husband has been waiting 5 years to have you in a place where he doesn't have to be a CEO, a brother, or a son. Just your man."

She giggled, her **chooda clinking** as she poked my chest. "Huhu, so the great Rudra Singh Rathor was actually counting down the minutes until he could get me on a plane?"

"Every. Single. Second," I admitted, unashamed. "And don't get too comfortable, *Janna*. That was just the warm-up. We still have six hours of flight time, and I haven't even seen what's in that 'special' carry-on bag your sisters-in-law were smirking about."

She froze, her eyes widening. "Oh no... I forgot about that! Ru, if it's something embarrassing, you are not allowed to look!"

"Too late," I smirked, reaching for the small designer tote bag at the foot of the bed. "In this jet, my Queen, there are no secrets. Let's see what the Rathor ladies think you should be wearing for me."

💖 Ishita's Perspective

"Ru, nahi! No!" I shrieked, my heart doing a somersault as I lunged for the bag. "Main akele mein dekh lungi! Aap mat dekho... pakka kuch galat-salat rakh diya hoga unhone!"

But Rudra was like a wall of solid muscle. He didn't budge, his large hand firmly gripped on the strap, a wicked, challenging smirk on his face. "If it's 'galat-salat,' Ishi, then it's definitely my business. Come on, *Janna*, sharing is caring."

"Nahi! Chhodiye!" I laughed, my **chooda clinking** frantically as I scrambled onto my knees on the bed.

I was pulling with every ounce of my 5'3" strength, leaning my entire weight backward. He was laughing too-a rare, deep, beautiful sound that I wished I could record. He let me pull for a second, then suddenly, he gave a sharp tug back.

The momentum was too much. I lost my balance completely.

"Rudra-!" I gasped as I flew forward.

I crashed into him with a heavy *thud*, my body slamming into his hard chest. But the force of our combined weight was too much for the luxury fittings. With a loud, terrifying **CREAK**, the bed frame gave way, the mattress dipping and hitting the base with a violent thud.

The room went silent, except for the heavy sound of our breathing.

We were in a complete tangle. My legs were draped over his, my cord-set top was still half-unbuttoned from earlier, and my **long curly hair** had created a dark curtain around our faces. His hands were braced on my waist, and my chest was pressed so tightly against his that I could feel his heart hammering-not with fear, but with adrenaline.

I looked down at him, my nose inches from his. If anyone-the air hostess, the pilot, even a bird flying past the window-saw us right now, they wouldn't just think we were flirting. They'd think we had just brought the entire plane down with our passion.

"The bed broke," I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of shock and a giggle I couldn't suppress. "Rudra... humne jet ka bed tod diya."

Rudra didn't look bothered at all. He looked up at me, his **ocean-blue eyes** dark, possessive, and incredibly heated. He tightened his grip on my waist, pulling me even flatter against him.

"Let it stay broken," he rasped, his voice thick and flirtatious. "It's a good sign, *Janna*. It means even the furniture knows that the 'Cold Prince' has no chill when it comes to his wife."

"Besharam!" I blushed, hiding my face in the crook of his neck. "Aap kya kahenge crew ko? Ki bed kaise toota?"

"I'll tell them my wife is too energetic," he teased, his hand sliding down to squeeze my hip. "Now... since we're already in this position, and the bag is right here between us... shall we see what the 'galat-salat' surprise is?"

I groaned, knowing I had lost this battle. "Fine. But if I die of embarrassment, you're the one explaining it to Papa!"

I was just about to reach for the bag when the heavy bedroom door slid open with a sharp *hiss*.

"Sir! Is everything alright? We heard a cra-"

The air hostess stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes went wide, darting from the collapsed bed frame to the sight of me sprawled directly on top of my half-clothed husband. My hair was a wild nest, my cord-set was hanging open, and my **chooda** was tangled in Rudra's shirt.

"Oh! I... I am so sorry! I thought... the turbulence..." she stammered, her face turning a bright, frantic red as she realized she had just walked in on Rajasthan's most powerful couple in a very... *compromised* position.

I let out a tiny, horrified squeak and immediately dove into Rudra's chest, hiding my burning face against his neck. My fingers moved like lightning, trying to fumble with my buttons, but my hands were shaking so much I couldn't even get one into the hole.

I felt Rudra's body shift beneath me. He didn't look embarrassed. In fact, he looked absolutely lethal. He didn't even try to move me; he just wrapped an arm around my waist, keeping me pinned to his chest, and turned his head to glare at the door with those **ocean-blue eyes** that could freeze the sun.

"What are you staring at?" he barked, his voice a deep, dangerous rumble that echoed in the small cabin. "Are we jokers? Is there a show going on here?"

The poor girl practically jumped out of her skin. "N-no, Sir! I... please excuse me! I'll leave! I'll leave right now!"

She scrambled backward so fast she nearly tripped over her own heels, slamming the door shut with a loud *bang*.

The silence that followed was heavy for exactly three seconds. Then, I felt the vibration of a chuckle starting in Rudra's chest. It grew into a full, boisterous laugh. I pulled back, looking at him in shock, only to find him losing his "Cold Prince" composure entirely.

"Ru! Why did you yell like that?" I gasped, though I was starting to giggle too. "She probably thinks I'm a wild woman who breaks furniture!"

"Let her think it!" Rudra roared with laughter, pulling me back down for a rib-crushing hug. "Did you see her face? She looked like she'd seen a ghost. 'Sir, is everything alright?' No, the bed is broken because my wife is a little firecracker!"

"Rudra! *Chup kijiye*!" I laughed, hitting his chest with my palm, the **jingle of my payals** filling the room as we both collapsed into fits of laughter on the broken mattress.

It was so ridiculous-the most powerful businessman in the country and his model wife, stuck on a broken bed in the middle of the sky, laughing like teenagers.

"Okay, okay," he said, finally catching his breath, though his eyes were still dancing with mischief. He reached for the mysterious bag that had caused this whole disaster. "Now that the audience is gone... let's see what Ahana and the others sent to help us break the furniture in Paris."

I was laughing so hard that I didn't realize my foot had slipped right into the gap where the bed frame had snapped. As I tried to sit up, I felt a sharp pinch.

"Ru! Wait... *hahaha*... my... my leg!" I squealed, a mix of a pained wince and uncontrollable giggles. I tried to pull my leg out, but it was firmly wedged in the crack of the broken wood.

Rudra stopped laughing, his expression switching from amusement to confusion. "What? What happened? Ishi, are you okay?"

"It's... *hihi*... it's stuck!" I managed to say, pointing down while doubling over. Every time I tried to explain, the image of the air hostess's horrified face flashed in my mind, and I'd go into another fit of laughter. "Rudra, I can't get it out! The bed is literally eating me!"

"What do you mean it's stuck? Let me see," he said, trying to be serious, but even his voice was shaking with lingering laughter. He reached down to help, but in my frantic state of laughing and wincing, I grabbed the mysterious designer bag and just threw it blindly at his chest to get it out of my way.

"Take it! Just help me!" I cried out, my **payals** making a frantic, trapped jingling sound.

Rudra caught the bag effortlessly with one hand, tossing it onto the floor without even glancing at the "special" contents. He didn't care about the whatever in it or the jokes anymore. He moved with a sudden, focused intensity, his **6'3" frame** shifting to get a better leverage on the broken frame.

"Hold on, *Janna*," he murmured, his large hands gripping the jagged edge of the wood. With a low grunt of effort, he used his sheer strength to pry the gap open just a few inches. "Now, pull your foot out. Slowly."

I slid my leg free and immediately tumbled back onto his lap, rubbing my ankle. "Ouch... but oh my god, Ru, did you see her face?"

"I saw everything," he said, pulling me into his arms and tucking my head under his chin. We both looked at the broken bed, then at the forgotten bag lying in the corner, and then at each other.

The "Cold Prince" and his "Princess" were a complete mess. My hair was everywhere, his shirt was wrinkled, and the bed was a total wreck. The romantic, dark mood from earlier had transformed into pure, joyful chaos.

"I think," Rudra said, kissing the top of my head while still chuckling, "that we should probably move to the chairs for the landing. If the pilot comes back here and sees the bed *and* my wife limping, he might actually call the police on me."

"Huhu, poor Rudra Singh Rathor," I teased, wrapping my arms around his neck, my **chooda** resting against his nape. "The world thinks you're a tiger, but you're just a bed-breaker."

"Only for you, Ishi," he whispered, his eyes softening with that intense, pure love. "Only for you."

I laughed and swatted his arm as he carried me toward the luxurious leather sofa in the main cabin. He settled down and pulled me onto his lap, his arms wrapping around me like a protective cocoon.

"Ab chup chap so jao," he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "When we reach, I'll wake you up. You need the energy for Paris."

I looked up at him, seeing the faint shadows of tiredness under his **ocean-blue eyes**. He had been up since 4:00 AM for the gym, managed a multi-billion dollar empire, and then dealt with my luggage-packing drama and our... *athletic* bed-breaking incident.

"Nahi, Ru," I said softly, my hand tracing the sharp line of his jaw. "Aap hamesha meri care karte ho. This time, you sleep. Main aapko utha dungi. Chalo, aao meri lap mein."

He let out a dry, amused snort, looking down at my petite frame. "Aapki lap mein? Lap hai kahan, Janna? You are tiny. Main toh wahan fit bhi nahi aaunga." (*In your lap? Where is the lap, Janna? You are tiny. I won't even fit there.*)

I pouted and patted my thighs defiantly. "Arey, hai! Thodi si toh hai! Aa jao, take rest. Don't underestimate the power of your wife's lap."

He looked at me for a long moment, a slow, tender smile spreading across his face-the kind of smile he only ever gave to me. Without another word, he shifted his massive **6'3" frame**. He sat on the floor of the jet's cabin, leaning his back against the base of the sofa, and carefully rested his head right in my lap.

His head was heavy, and he took up so much space, but it felt perfect. My **chooda** clinked softly as I began to run my fingers through his thick, dark hair.

"See?" I whispered, leaning down to kiss his temple. "Fit ho gaye na?"

"Hmm," he grunted, his eyes already fluttering shut as he felt the soothing rhythm of my touch. "Don't get used to this, Ishi. Usually, it's my job to be your pillow."

"For today, let me be yours, Patidev," I murmured.

Within minutes, his breathing deepened. India's most feared businessman was fast asleep in the lap of his 'tiny' wife, thousands of feet in the air. I looked out the window at the endless blue sky, feeling a surge of pure happiness.

👑 Rudra's Perspective

The low, rhythmic hum of the engines was the only sound in the cabin as I slowly drifted back to consciousness. I felt a slight weight on my forehead-her small, soft hand was still resting there, her fingers stilled in my hair.

I opened my eyes slowly, my vision adjusting to the bright morning light flooding through the oval windows. I was still resting on her lap, but my "tiny" wife hadn't stayed awake to guard my sleep like she promised.

**Ishita** was fast asleep, her head tilted back against the plush leather of the sofa, her lips slightly parted. Her **long curly hair** had fallen over one side of her face, and her **mangalsutra** caught the glint of the sun, sparkling against her brown skin. She looked so peaceful, so innocent-a stark contrast to the firebrand who had broken a bed with me just hours ago.

I felt my heart melt, a sensation so foreign yet so frequent since she had entered my life. To the world, I was the cold-hearted prince, a man of steel and profit. But looking at her, I felt like a mere mortal. I stayed still for a moment, not wanting to disturb her, just watching the way her **chooda** rose and fell with her breathing.

Suddenly, the intercom crackled softly.

*"Sir, we are beginning our descent into Paris. If you look out to your left, you can see the city lights and the Eiffel Tower coming into view."*

I didn't look at the tower. I looked at her.

"Ishi," I whispered, reaching up to stroke her cheek. "Janna, wake up. Look where we are."

She stirred, letting out a soft, kitten-like moan, her **payals** jingling as she stretched her legs. Her brown eyes fluttered open, hazy and confused, until they met mine.

"Ru?" she croaked, her voice thick with sleep. "Did I... did I fall asleep? I was supposed to wake you!"

"You failed miserably," I teased, sitting up and pulling her into my arms so we both faced the window. I pointed down through the clouds.

Emerging from the morning mist was the iron lattice of the **Eiffel Tower**, standing tall amidst the Haussmann-style buildings of Paris. It looked like a postcard, but it was real.

"Oh my god," she breathed, her hands pressing against the glass, her **engagement ring** catching the light. "Rudra, it's real. We're actually here."

"I told you, Ishi," I murmured, kissing the top of her head as the jet's wheels locked into place for landing. "The world is at your feet. Welcome to Paris, Mrs. Rathor."

The cabin doors hissed open, and the crisp, chilly air of Paris rushed in, smelling of rain and possibilities. Ishita didn't wait for the stairs to be fully stabilized; she was already at the edge, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Ru! Look! The air even smells different here!" she squealed, her **payals jingling** frantically as she practically skipped down the steps.

I followed at a more measured pace, my long coat fluttering in the wind, watching her with a permanent smirk. She was like a localized storm of energy. She didn't care that there were luxury cars waiting on the tarmac or that the airport staff were bowing to the 'Prince of Rajasthan.' She was too busy spinning in a circle, her **long curly hair** flying around her face.

"Ishita, slow down! You'll trip again," I called out, though my voice held no real authority-just pure adoration.

"No! Look at the sky, Ru! It's so blue!" She was running ahead toward the sleek black Mercedes waiting for us, jumping slightly with every few steps. She looked like a little girl whose biggest dream had just come true, and knowing I was the one who made it happen sent a surge of pride through my chest.

She stopped by the car, bouncing on her heels, waiting for me to catch up. When I reached her, she threw her arms around my neck, oblivious to the chauffeurs watching us.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she chirped, kissing my cheek repeatedly. "I can't believe I'm in Paris with my *Patidev*!"

I caught her by the waist, steadying her. "If you're this excited about the airport tarmac, I'm genuinely worried you'll faint when you see the view from our balcony."

"Then you'll just have to catch me, won't you?" she teased, winking at me before sliding into the back seat of the car.

I climbed in beside her, and as the car pulled away toward the heart of the city, she pressed her face against the window, pointing at every French sign and bakery we passed. I just leaned back, watching her reflection in the glass. The city of love had a lot to offer, but as far as I was concerned, the most beautiful thing in Paris was currently sitting in my car, vibrating with excitement.

The car glided through the streets of Paris until it came to a halt in front of a legendary limestone facade. The staff at the **Hôtel Plaza Athénée** didn't just greet us; they stood in a line, bowing to the man who held the keys to their most exclusive suite.

I led Ishita through the gilded lobby, but she was barely looking at the gold leafing-she was vibrating with a need to see our room. When the double mahogany doors of the **Grand Honeymoon Suite** finally swung open, even I had to take a breath.

The scent hit us first-thousands of fresh, deep-red Parisian roses, their petals scattered across the cream silk carpets like a trail of blood on snow. The air was thick with the expensive aroma of vanilla and musk. But it was the architecture that made her gasp. A massive floor-to-ceiling window opened onto a private terrace, revealing the Eiffel Tower so close it felt like we could touch it. Beside the terrace was a private, heated infinity pool that seemed to spill directly into the Parisian skyline.

And then, there was the bathroom. A masterpiece of obsidian marble and clear glass. A **glass jacuzzi** sat in the center, completely transparent

, offering no privacy from the bedroom.

"Oh my god... Ru! *O my god!*" Ishita screamed, her voice echoing off the high ceilings.

She turned around, her brown eyes shimmering with tears of pure, unadulterated joy. Before I could even say a word, she launched herself at me. I caught her mid-air, her legs wrapping around my waist and her arms locking behind my neck so tightly I could feel the individual links of her **mangalsutra** pressing into my skin.

"You fulfilled every wish! Everything!" she cried, showering my face, my jaw, and my neck with deep, frantic kisses. "I love you, I love you, I love you, *Patidev*!"

The sheer force of her excitement sent us stumbling back. Between the weight of her jumping on me and the slippery rose petals under my boots, I lost my center. I let out a low "Oof" as we tumbled together onto the massive, king-sized bed-the one that, thankfully, looked much sturdier than the one on the jet.

She fell on top of me dramatically, her **long curly hair** creating a wild, fragrant cage around us. She was laughing and screaming into my chest, her **chooda** clashing against my button-down shirt.

"Careful, *Janna*," I rasped, my hands sliding down to grip the backs of her thighs, holding her firmly against me. My **ocean-blue eyes** darkened, the 'dark husband' mind she mentioned finally taking over. "If you keep screaming my name like that in this city, the neighbors will think I'm murdering you... or worshipping you."

I rolled us over in one smooth motion, pinning her into the sea of rose petals. I looked down at her-her face was flushed, her breathing was jagged, and she looked like a dream I never wanted to wake up from.

"You like the glass bathroom?" I whispered, my voice a dangerous, low vibration near her ear. I flicked a stray rose petal off her collarbone. "I chose it because I wanted to see every inch of you, Ishita. No walls, no curtains, no secrets. Just you, the water, and my eyes on you."

She swallowed hard, her excitement suddenly shifting into that familiar, delicious shiver of nerves. "Ru... you're so shameless."

"I'm a man who knows what belongs to him," I countered, nipping at her earlobe. "Now, you've jumped on me, you've kissed me, and you've seen the view. But we haven't even opened that 'scandalous' bag yet. And something tells me, in a suite this beautiful, you're going to look stunning in whatever French lace my sisters hid in there."

I leaned down, my lips claiming hers in a kiss that tasted of victory and the dark, obsessive love that had brought us across oceans.