Rudra's Perspective

**[MATURE CONTENT NOTICE]**

*This chapter contains explicit descriptions of intimacy, afterglow, and adult themes. 18+ only.*

I deepened the kiss, my tongue tracing the seam of her lips until she opened for me with a soft, helples whimper. The sound of our mouths meeting-wet, messy, and desperate-filled the quiet of the rose-scented suite. I was losing myself in the taste of her, my hand tangling in the hair at her nape to tilt her head back, exposing the delicate line of her throat.

Every time our tongues clashed, a sharp moan broke from her, swallowed instantly by my lips. I shifted my weight, pressing the lower half of my body firmly against her. I felt the unmistakable throb of my own hardness against her thigh, a silent testament to how much I had been holding back.

"Mmm... Ru..." she gasped into my mouth, her hands clutching my shoulders as she felt me trembling with the effort of not taking her right then and there.

The **jingle of her payals** was the only thing competing with the sound of our heavy breathing. I moved my hand from her neck to her cheek, my thumb caressing her skin with a possessive heat. I wanted to stay in this sea of red petals forever.

But then, she pulled back just an inch, her brown eyes hazy and her lips swollen and glistening. "Rudra... wait... *hnnn*... ye sab baad mein. Abhi bhook lagi hai, plz."

I froze, my forehead resting against hers. I let out a long, ragged exhale, my **ocean-blue eyes** slowly regaining their focus. "Seriously, *Janna*? Thirty thousand feet in the air, a broken bed, and now a room full of roses... and you're thinking about your stomach?"

She let out a sheepish giggle, poking my chest with one finger. "Toh kya karun? Since morning I've only had excitement! Your 'dark romance' mood is very heavy, Patidev, but my tiny stomach is empty."

I groaned, falling back onto the pillows beside her, staring up at the ornate ceiling while my body protested the sudden halt. "Only you, Ishita. Only you could stop Rudra Singh Rathor with a request for food."

I sat up, running a hand through my messy hair and looking at her. She looked so adorable-half-unbuttoned, hair a mess, surrounded by rose petals, yet pouting about being hungry.

"Fine," I said, leaning over to give her one last, lingering nip on her shoulder. "We'll eat. But remember, Ishi... I'm letting you fill your stomach now so you don't have any excuses later tonight. I've already seen that glass jacuzzi, and I have very specific plans for it."

I stood up, offering my hand to pull her up from the bed. "What do you want? Crepes? Croissants? Or should I just order the entire French menu to the room so you don't have to leave my sight?"

I chuckled, my heart softening at her pout. I couldn't stay frustrated with her, not when she looked so small and beautiful amidst the wreckage of rose petals.

"Teek hai, *Janna*. Khana pehle," I murmured, kissing her forehead.

I picked up the vintage gold-plated room phone and placed a special order. Since we were both **pure vegetarians**, I had to be specific. In a city like Paris, you have to be careful, but for a Rathor, the hotel chef was more than happy to create a custom masterpiece.

Twenty minutes later, we were settled on the private terrace. The Parisian breeze was chilly, but the outdoor heaters kept us warm. The view was staggering-the **Eiffel Tower** stood right there, a giant of iron and light, while the city hummed below us.

The staff laid out a spread that made Ishita's eyes sparkle:

* Freshly baked, eggless **buttery croissants** and pain au chocolat.

* A platter of exotic French cheeses and organic grapes.

* **Vegetarian Crepes** filled with spinach, sautéed mushrooms, and Gruyère cheese.

* Warm, crusty baguettes with herb-infused butter.

* Two cups of rich, thick Parisian hot chocolate.

"Ru, look at the crepes!" she exclaimed, her **chooda clinking** as she reached for a fork. She took a big bite, closing her eyes in pure bliss. "Mmm... it's so good. Better than the ones we had in Delhi."

"Everything is better in Paris, Ishi," I said, leaning back in my chair, sipping my coffee while watching her. I was tired-my muscles ached from the gym and the... *exertion* on the jet-but seeing her eat with such joy made the fatigue vanish.

I picked up a piece of the baguette and fed it to her, my thumb brushing against her lip to catch a stray crumb. "Happy now, Mrs. Rathor?"

"Very happy," she whispered, leaning her head on my shoulder as she looked out at the view. "It feels like a dream. After the kidnapping, the distance... I never thought we'd be sitting here, just us."

I pulled her closer, wrapping my arm around her to shield her from the wind. "No more distance, Ishi. Just us. Always."

We sat there for a long time in a comfortable silence, both of us exhausted but deeply content. The "dark" intensity had settled into something warm and soulful. The sun began to dip slightly, casting long shadows over the terrace.

"Ru," she said suddenly, her voice dropping into a shy whisper. "Now that I'm full... I think I'm ready to see what's in that bag. But you have to promise not to laugh if it's something really... scandalous."

I smirked, my **ocean-blue eyes** lighting up with a renewed fire. "I never laugh at a gift, *Janna*. I appreciate it. Especially if it involves you and French lace."

💖 Ishita's Perspective

I stood in the middle of the massive walk-in closet, my heart hammering against my ribs. Rudra had stepped out onto the terrace to take a quick call regarding "security protocols"-his usual Prince-of-Rajasthan way of saying he was making sure no one dared breathe in our direction without permission.

"Okay, Ishita... just look quickly," I whispered to myself. My fingers trembled as I reached for the mysterious designer bag Ahana and Reet had been smirking about.

I unzipped it slowly, and my breath hitched. I didn't find "clothes." I found pieces of black and crimson silk so thin they could fit through a wedding ring. It was French lace-daring, translucent, and completely scandalous. There was a note tucked inside: *"For the Prince's eyes only. Don't keep him waiting, Ishu! - Your favorite Devranis."*

"Oh my god," I gasped, my face turning so hot I was sure I'd melt. I shoved the lingerie to the very back of the mahogany drawer, burying it under my heavy sweaters. My **chooda clinked** frantically as I fumbled for my phone.

> **To: Ahana (Nand)**

> *"What the hell is this, Ahana?! I am going to kill you when I get back! How could you pack this? I'm dying of embarrassment here! 😭🔥"*

I tossed the phone onto the bed and leaned against the wardrobe, trying to catch my breath. But as I stood there in the silence of the suite, my mind-the one that was usually so innocent-betrayed me.

I looked at the glass bathroom, then back at the drawer. I imagined the look in Rudra's **ocean-blue eyes** if I actually wore that crimson lace. He was already so possessive, so "dark" and controlling when he touched me in my regular clothes... what would he do if he saw me like that? The thought of his large, warm hands on my skin, his lips tracing the edges of that lace, made a shiver of pure, unadulterated desire run down my spine.

*He would lose his mind,* I thought, biting my lip. *He wouldn't just kiss me... he would claim me.*

"Ishi? Why are you hiding in the closet?"

Rudra's deep, velvet voice vibrated through the room. I jumped, nearly knocking over a vase of roses. He was standing at the entrance of the wardrobe, his blazer off, his shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal his muscular forearms. He looked devastatingly handsome, his gaze sharp and knowing.

"I... I was just organizing! Nothing!" I squeaked, moving quickly to block the drawer where the "sinful" silk was hidden.

He walked toward me slowly, his footsteps silent on the carpet. He didn't stop until he was inches away, his **6'3" frame** towering over me, casting a shadow that felt like a warm embrace. He placed his hands on the wardrobe on either side of my head, trapping me.

"You're a terrible liar, *Janna*," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned down, his nose brushing against mine. "Your face is redder than these roses. Did you find the 'galat-salat' surprise?"

"Ru, please... it's nothing," I whispered, but my eyes flickered toward the drawer for a split second.

He caught the movement. A slow, predatory smirk spread across his face. "So, it *is* in there. Tell me, Ishita... should I look now, or are you planning on giving me a private fashion show tonight?"

"Rudra! Besharam!" I gasped, trying to push past him, but he didn't budge. He stayed there, his eyes devouring me, promising that tonight, Paris wouldn't be the only thing that was beautiful and breathtaking.

The soft glow of the Parisian moon filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a silvery light over the sea of red roses. I was lying on my stomach, kicking my feet in the air, my thumbs flying across the screen as I teased Ahana back about her "gift." But every few seconds, my eyes darted to the digital clock on the bedside table.

**11:55 PM.**

Across the room, Rudra was standing by the terrace glass, his back to me. He was shirtless, wearing only his dark silk lounge pants. The sight of his muscular back-the broad shoulders and the powerful ripple of muscles as he gestured while talking to Laksh-made my breath hitch. He was Rajasthan's King, even when he was just discussing security "arrangements" over the phone.

*5 minutes left.*

He was turning 30. My cold-hearted prince was entering a new decade of his life, he was celebrating it with me by his side.

I quietly slid off the bed, my **payals** letting out the tiniest, most secretive jingle. I crept toward the sofa situated behind where he stood. Because he was so tall-a towering **6'3"** of pure Greek god perfection-I had to climb onto the plush cushions of the couch just to reach him properly.

As the clock struck **12:00 AM**, I leaned forward and wrapped my arms tightly around his neck from behind. My skin met his bare, warm shoulders, and I felt him startle for a fraction of a second before he instantly relaxed, knowing my touch better than his own breath.

"Laksh, I'll call you back," he murmured into the phone, his voice dropping an octave as he hung up.

I pressed my chest against his back, leaning in to whisper directly into his ear, my breath ghosting over his skin. "Happy Birthday, *Patidev*..."

I leaned further, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on his sharp jawline. "Happy 30th, my Ru. The world's best husband is now officially a little bit older, and a whole lot more mine."

Rudra didn't move for a moment, letting out a long, heavy sigh of surrender. Then, he reached back, his large hands gripping my forearms to pull my embrace even tighter. He turned his head slightly, his **ocean-blue eyes** catching the moonlight, looking at me with an intensity that made my soul tremble.

"You stayed up just for this, *Janna*?" he asked, his voice thick with a mix of surprise and deep, raw affection.

"Of course," I whispered, nipping softly at his earlobe. "You spent five years waiting for me, Rudra. The least I can do is stay up five minutes to welcome your special day. Do you know how lucky I feel? That I'm the first thing you're seeing and touching at thirty?"

He suddenly let go of my arms, spun around within the circle of the sofa, and hoisted me up so I was sitting on the very top of the sofa back, making us eye-to-eye. He stepped between my knees, his hands resting on my waist, his thumb tracing the hem of my silk top.

"Thirty years of my life," he rasped, his gaze dropping to my lips. "And only the years spent with you actually matter. Thank you, Ishi. For coming back. For being here. For being my gift."

He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine. The 'Dark Prince' was gone, replaced by the man who worshipped the very ground I walked on.

"Since it's my birthday," he flirted darkly, his voice vibrating against my skin. "I get to make a wish, right? And I think my wish involves a certain drawer in the wardrobe and a glass jacuzzi. What do you say, birthday boy's wife?"

I blushed furiosly, my **chooda** clinking as I hid my face in the crook of his neck. "Ru! Aap kabhi nahi sudhrenge! It's your birthday, at least be a little bit of a 'Prince' and less of a 'Mafia'!"

"Tonight," he growled, lifting me off the sofa and into his arms, "I am whatever you want me to be. But first, let me show you how a thirty-year-old Rathor celebrates."

I burst out laughing at the look of mock betrayal on his face. I scrambled out of his arms before he could pull me toward that "scandalous" wardrobe, my **chooda clinking** a frantic rhythm as I ran toward the dining area of the suite.

"No, no, no! First cake, Ru! A birthday is incomplete without a cake!" I chirped, pointing toward the trolley that the hotel staff had discreetly rolled in just minutes before midnight.

Rudra groaned, though a beautiful, amused smile played on his lips. He followed me, his bare chest glistening under the chandelier light, looking like a literal **Greek God** who had no business being near something as sweet as chocolate.

"Ishi, it's midnight," he reasoned, his voice a low rumble. "And you know I don't care for sweets. I'd much rather have... *other* desserts."

"Huhu, bad luck, *Patidev*!" I teased, lifting the silver dome to reveal a rich, decadent **eggless Belgian Chocolate cake**, smothered in dark ganache and topped with fresh Parisian raspberries. "Since you don't like it, that means more for me! I ordered my favorite flavor because I knew you'd say no. So, technically, I'm celebrating *your* birthday by filling *my* stomach!"

I picked up the knife and looked at him expectantly. He stood there, leaning against the table with his arms crossed, his **ocean-blue eyes** watching me with that 'cold-prince-turned-soft' gaze.

"Aao, Ru! Cut it!"

He walked over, standing behind me and wrapping his large hand over mine on the knife. The heat from his bare chest pressed against my back was distracting, but I held firm. Together, we sliced through the soft sponge.

I broke off a small piece, the chocolate rich and dark. "Happy Birthday, Ru," I whispered, turning in his arms to feed him first.

He hesitated for a split second-the man lived on black coffee and discipline-but then he opened his mouth, his eyes locked onto mine. As he took the bite, his thumb caught a bit of icing from my lip.

"Too sweet," he murmured, his voice dropping into that dark, velvety tone that made my heart skip. "But since it came from your hand, I'll survive. Now... are you done with your chocolate, or do I have to wait for you to finish the whole thing?"

I giggled, my mouth full of cake. "Mmm, it's so good! You should try the raspberry, it's-"

Before I could finish, he leaned down and tasted the chocolate right off my lips, a slow, lingering kiss that tasted of cocoa and obsession.

"You're right," he rasped, pulling back just enough to look into my dazed brown eyes. "The raspberry *is* good. But the 'tiny' woman who ordered it is much better. Now, *Janna*, the cake is cut. The wish is made. Do I get my real gift now, or are you going to hide behind a pastry all night?"

The moment our lips parted, the sharp ring of his phone echoed through the suite. I looked at the screen-it was a group video call from the **Rathor family**. I could practically hear Ahana's giggles and Reet's teasing voice from here.

"Go, talk to them," I whispered, pushing him gently toward the terrace. "They've been waiting to wish their 'Bhai' since morning."

Rudra groaned, kissing my forehead one last time before answering the call. As he stepped away, his deep voice resonating as he greeted Akshat and the others, I felt a sudden surge of boldness. It was his 30th birthday. He had waited three years for me, suffered through kidnapping, separation, and my own hesitations. He deserved a gift that was purely... *me*.

I slipped into the walk-in closet, my heart thumping so hard I could hear it in my ears. I reached for the back of the drawer and pulled out the **crimson French lace**.

As I slid it on, I gasped at my reflection in the full-length mirror. The lace was a deep, blood-red that made my **brown skin** glow like burnished gold. It was scandalously thin. The cups were wired to push my breasts up, making them look plump and inviting, while the rest of the fabric draped precariously over my hips, ending high on my upper thighs. It was completely backless, held together by nothing but silk threads that looked like they would snap if he breathed on them too hard.

"Ishita... you can do this," I whispered, my fingers trembling as I adjusted my **chooda** and smoothed my **long curly hair** over my shoulders. I looked like a temptress, a far cry from the shy girl he met at the Shiv Mandir.

I walked out of the closet slowly, my **payals** letting out a soft, rhythmic *chan-chan* that seemed to announce my arrival.

Rudra was still on the phone, his back to me. "Yeah, Akshat, we reached safely. Paris is-"

He stopped mid-sentence. He didn't even turn around fully before he sensed me. He slowly rotated on his heels, his **ocean-blue eyes** sweeping over me.

The silence that followed was deafening. I saw the exact moment his pupils dilated, turning his eyes almost black. His grip on the phone tightened so hard his knuckles turned white.

"Bhai? You there? Rudra bhai ?" Akshat's voice came faintly from the speaker.

Rudra didn't take his eyes off me for even a fraction of a second. "I have to go," he rasped, his voice sounding like it had been dragged over gravel.

"Wait, we didn't talk to Ishita Bhabhi yet-"

**Click.**

He cut the call immediately and tossed the expensive phone onto the sofa without looking. The 'Cold Prince' was gone. In his place stood a man who looked like he wanted to devour me and worship me all at once.

"Ishi..." he breathed, his voice a low, dangerous vibration. He walked toward me with the slow, predatory grace of a tiger. "Do you have any idea... what you've just done?"

I stood my ground, though my knees felt like jelly. "You said you wanted your gift, *Patidev*," I whispered, my brown eyes meeting his dark ones. "Do you... do you like it?"

He stopped just inches away, the heat radiating from his shirtless chest making my skin tingle. He reached out, his large, warm hand trembling slightly as he traced the thin strap on my shoulder.

"Like it?" he growled, his hand moving to the small of my back, pulling me flush against his hard body. "I want to tear it off you, and I want to frame it because you look like a goddess. I told you I'd buy the sky for you, Janna... but looking at you right now, I'd burn the whole world down just to keep you in this room forever."

His touch was electric against my bare back. I leaned into him, my hands resting on his muscular chest, feeling his heart thundering-even faster than mine.

"Happy Birthday, Ru," I murmured, standing on my tiptoes.

"It is now," he rasped, his head dipping down, his lips ghosting over the swell of my breast. "It definitely is now."

👑 Rudra's Perspective

The moment the call ended, the air in the room shifted. It became heavy, thick with a tension so sharp it felt like it could draw blood. I didn't just walk toward her; I hunted her. I moved until she was backed against the cold marble wall of the suite, my **6'3" frame** completely eclipsing her small, delicate one.

I caged her, my palms flat against the wall on either side of her head. My **ocean-blue eyes** were no longer calm; they were a storm of dark, obsessive hunger.

"Rudra..." she whispered, her breath hitching.

I didn't give her a chance to speak. I crashed my lips onto hers in a kiss that wasn't a greeting-it was a claim. It was deep, possessive, and tastes of the chocolate she had just fed me. I groaned into her mouth, my tongue demanding entry, seeking hers with a primal desperation. My hands dropped from the wall, sliding down her silk-covered sides to her waist, and then lower, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips.

I squeezed her firmly, making her let out a muffled moan against my lips, before I hooked my arms under her thighs and hoisted her up.

She didn't hesitate. She wrapped her legs around my waist, her **payals** singing a frantic melody against my lower back, and her arms locked around my neck. I felt the heat of her **brown skin** against mine, the friction of her lace lingerie against my bare chest.

I pulled back just an inch, my chest heaving. "Ishi... you're trying to kill me," I rasped, my voice sounding like broken glass.

"I want to make you happy," she whispered, her eyes shimmering with a mix of shyness and a new, bold fire. "Shifa told me... she said this makes husbands happy. And I want you to be the happiest man today, Ru."

A dark, low chuckle rumbled in my throat. "Shifa has no idea what she's unleashed," I murmured. "You don't just make me happy, *Janna*. You make me lose my mind. You make me want to lock this door and never let you see the sun again."

I began to walk slowly toward the bed, but I didn't stop. I kept my eyes locked on hers as I reached for the thin, crimson silk strap resting on her shoulder. My movements were agonizingly slow, calculated to keep her suspended in that torturous space between anticipation and surrender.

My thumb brushed against the pulsing vein in her neck before hooking under the lace. I watched her face as I began to slide it down-centimeter by centimeter. I saw her pupils dilate, her lips part as a shaky breath escaped her.

"Ru... please..." she whimpered, her fingers clenching the hair at the nape of my neck.

"Shh," I commanded, my voice a dominant, velvety thread. "We have all night. And I am going to savor every single second of my birthday gift."

The strap fell over her shoulder, exposing the swell of her breast to the cool Parisian air and my burning gaze. I leaned down, my lips grazing the sensitive skin I had just bared. I felt her heart thundering against my ribs, a wild bird trapped in a cage of my making.

I wasn't the 'Cold Prince' anymore. I was a man who had waited years for this moment, and as I slid the second strap down, I knew that tonight, I would finally show her exactly how much power she held over the most powerful man in Rajasthan.

I lowered her onto the bed, the rose petals bruising beneath us, and hovered over her, my hands claiming her skin with a possessive heat that promised to leave a mark on her soul.

I watched her eyes flutter shut as the crimson lace finally pooled around her waist, leaving her upper body bared to the moonlight and my hungry gaze. The sight of her-the way her **brown skin** glowed against the red silk, the way her breasts rose and fell with her frantic, shallow breaths-was a masterpiece I had waited an eternity to possess.

"You look so beautiful, *Janna*," I rasped, my voice thick with a dark, predatory intent. "It's almost a sin to touch you... but I've always been a sinner when it comes to you."

I leaned down, my lips grazing the curve of her jaw, my breath hot against her ear. "I told you on the jet, Ishi... I have no intention of being a gentleman tonight. No mercy. Just you and me, until you forget your own name."

A loud, broken moan escaped her as I bit softly into the sensitive cord of her neck, my hand sliding down to squeeze her waist, my fingers sinking into her soft skin. The scent of roses and her own sweet, musky aroma was driving me toward the edge of insanity.

I caught sight of the silver bowl of melted Belgian chocolate sitting on the bedside table, a remnant of her "first cake" demand. A dark, wicked idea took root in my mind. I reached out, my eyes never leaving hers, and dipped my fingers into the warm, dark liquid.

"Ru... what are you doing?" she whimpered, her **chooda clinking** as she reached out to grab my forearms.

"Making my birthday gift even sweeter," I murmured.

I traced a slow, dripping line of chocolate starting from the hollow of her throat, dragging it down, down, until it circled the dark, budding peak of her breast. She shivered violently, her back arching off the silk sheets as the warmth of the chocolate met the cool air of the suite.

"Ah! *Ru... hnnngh*... it's warm," she cried out, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer.

"Watch me, Ishita," I commanded, my **ocean-blue eyes** burning with a primal fire.

I leaned down and began to lick the chocolate off her skin, my tongue slow and deliberate, savoring the mix of bitter cocoa and her salt-sweet skin. I didn't stop at the surface. I took her into my mouth, sucking the life out of her, my teeth grazing her just enough to make her scream my name into the quiet Parisian night.

"Rudra! *Oh god... mmm...* please!" she sobbed out, her hips jerking against mine in a desperate, uncoordinated rhythm. Her **payals** were a frantic, silver scream of their own, echoing the passion unfolding on the bed.

"Is the 'Cold Prince' too much for you, *Janna*?" I flirted darkly, my voice a vibrating growl against her skin. I moved to the other side, repeating the torturous ritual, painting her in chocolate and worshipping her like the goddess she was. "You wanted to make me happy? This is it. You, broken and shivering under me, knowing that no one else in this world will ever see you like this."

I felt her hands clench in my hair, her body completely surrendered to my dominant control. The slow-burn had finally reached its flashpoint. The Eiffel Tower might have been the icon of Paris, but in this room, on this bed of bruised rose petals, she was my only world.

"Tonight, you're not just my wife," I whispered, my lips moving back to hers for a messy, chocolate-stained kiss. "You're my obsession. And I'm going to make sure you feel every single year of the thirty I've lived, Ishi."

The last shred of my "Prince" composure snapped like a dry twig. I didn't want to be gentle anymore; I wanted to mark her, to brand her as mine so deeply that even the stars of Paris would know who she belonged to.

My hands moved with a sudden, violent hunger. I gripped the thin, crimson silk of the remaining lace and **tore it apart** in one swift motion. The sound of the delicate fabric ripping echoed in the silent suite, a sharp preamble to the low, guttural growl that left my throat.

"Rudra-!" she gasped, her eyes wide as she felt the cool air hit her entirely.

I didn't give her time to process the shock. I hovered over her, my **6'3" muscular frame** pinning her into the mattress. I saw her-really saw her. She was a vision of brown silk and dark chocolate, her skin flushed, her hair a wild halo on the pillows. I saw the lace panties I had just ruined, soaked through, a silent invitation that made the blood in my veins turn into liquid fire.

I was **badly hard**, a painful, throbbing weight that pressed directly against her wet, sensitive core. Every time she breathed, every time she twitched beneath me, I felt that agonizingly perfect friction.

"Look at you," I rasped, my voice thick with a dark, obsessive pride. "Look at what you do to me, Ishi."

I leaned down, my mouth finding the soft junction where her neck met her shoulder. I didn't just kiss her; I claimed her. I bit down, hard enough to make her gasp, and then sucked the skin until a deep, purple **hickey** blossomed against her brown skin.

"Mmm... *Ru... hah...* bite me again," she moaned, her voice a broken, high-pitched melody. Her **chooda clinked** frantically as she reached up, her nails scratching down my bare back, leaving stinging trails of fire. "Don't... don't stop... please... *ahhh!*"

I moved lower, my hands finding her breasts. I squeezed them firmly, my palms molding to their plump weight as I used the chocolate still on my skin to trace invisible, dark flowers across her torso. I followed the trail with my tongue, licking, biting, and worshipping every inch of her.

"You're so wet for me, *Janna*," I whispered darkly, my lips ghosting over her stomach, making her muscles ripple and jump. "Tell me... who do you belong to? Tell me who is marking you tonight."

"You... *hnnn*... only you, Rudra," she sobbed out, her head tossing from side to side, her **long curly hair** tangling in the silk sheets. "Aapka... sab kuch aapka hai... *Patidev... oh god...* please, I can't take the wait anymore!"

The slow-burn was agonizing. I wanted to bury myself in her, to end the three years of torture in one stroke, but I forced myself to stay back. I wanted her to beg. I wanted the 'Cold Prince' to see his 'Angel' completely unraveled.

I reached down, my fingers finding her core, parting the wetness I had created. I watched her face-the way her jaw dropped, the way her eyes rolled back as I began a slow, torturous rhythm.

"Not yet," I growled, my **ocean-blue eyes** dark with a dominant, terrifying love. "I'm going to make sure this birthday is burned into your memory, Ishita. You're going to scream my name until the sun rises over the Eiffel Tower."

"Ru... *Rudra!*... please... *mmmhh*... now... I need you... *now!*"

Her moans were getting louder, messier, echoing off the glass walls of the suite. I leaned up, capturing her lips in a soul-searing kiss, letting her taste the chocolate and her own desire on my tongue.

💖 Ishita’s Perspectivep

I felt my body tightening, a tension so sharp it was almost a physical weight. As Rudra added yet another finger, stretching me to my absolute limit, I let out a broken, high-pitched cry of pure ecstasy. He was thrusting hard and deep, a relentless rhythm that sent shockwaves through my soul.

I buried my face in the crook of his neck, my **long nails digging** into his muscular shoulders, leaving marks I knew he’d wear with pride tomorrow.

"Ru... I'm close... *aaa hhhh*... Rudra! *Aaaaa aaaaa!*" My voice was a frantic, moaning mess. I felt my internal walls clench around his fingers with a desperate, rhythmic force. "Aaaaa... *Patidev*... *aaaaa!*"

I collapsed against him, my body shuddering as I came on his fingers, the pleasure wave after wave washing over me. He gave one last, powerful thrust, letting me feel the full extent of his strength, before slowly pulling out. Even then, he didn't stop worshipping me; he kept his mouth locked on my breast, his tongue swirling in a slow, possessive cool-down.

He laid me back onto the rose petals softly, his **ocean-blue eyes** dark and blown out with a terrifyingly beautiful hunger. He stood up for just a second to finally discard his boxers. When he did, my breath hitched. Even though we had been intimate before, the sight of his hardness—thick, pulsing, and looking incredibly dangerous in the moonlight—made my heart hammer against my ribs.

*Will I even be able to take him?*

He noticed my hesitation. He leaned down, his lips ghosting over my ear as he whispered something incredibly dark. "Don't look so scared, *Janna*. I made you mine years ago... tonight, I’m just reminding your body who the King is."

He glanced toward the bedside drawer, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. "Which one do you want, Ishi?"

"W-what do you mean?" I stammered, my hair a wild halo around my face.

He pecked my lips, his voice dropping into a velvet growl. "I have many varieties, *Janna*... but I think chocolate is your favorite, right?"

I nodded dumbly, my face heating up as I realized what he was talking about. He reached into the drawer, pulled out a small packet, and **tore it open with his teeth**—the most primal, dominant gesture I had ever seen. He rolled the condom on with a practiced, focused intensity before hovering back over me.

He didn't rush the final act. He pinned my wrists above my head, his large hands engulfing mine, and began to kiss me nonstop—messy, deep, chocolate-flavored kisses that tasted of our shared desire. I fisted my hands as much as I could, my **chooda clinking** as I fought for air.

The **rose petals** beneath us were crushed, releasing a heavy, sweet perfume that mixed with the scent of our skin. He was a mountain of heat and muscle above me, his chest heaving as he prepared to claim his birthday gift completely.

"Look at me, Ishita," he commanded, his voice a low, vibrating thread of steel. "I want to see the moment you feel me. I want to see you realize that you’re finally, truly, back home."

I looked up into those dark, blue depths, my soul laid bare on the bed of a Parisian suite, waiting for the man I loved to finally make us one again.

The air in the suite was thick, heavy with the scent of crushed roses and the raw, masculine heat of the man pinning me down. As he kept our mouths locked in a deep, desperate kiss, I felt his large hands slide down to my knees, slowly and firmly spreading my legs wide to make room for him.

The moment his tip brushed against my entrance, I felt a jolt of pure electricity—and a sharp pang of fear. He was so incredibly big. I felt the dangerous, throbbing weight of him pressing against my small, tight opening, and for a second, my breath hitched in my throat.

"Ru... wait..." I whimpered against his lips.

"I have you, *Janna*," he rasped, his voice a dark, soothing vibration. "Just breathe for me."

He began to push, entering me with a slow, relentless force that felt like he was claiming every single inch of my soul. I let out a broken cry—half-pain, half-unbearable pleasure—as he forced his way in. It felt like I was being stretched to the point of breaking, my small body struggling to accommodate his massive size.

He didn't rush. He took his time, inch by agonizing inch, burying himself deep inside me. I felt the tears prick my eyes as I cried out again, the pain sharp but wrapped in a layer of heat that made my blood boil.

To distract me from the stretching ache, he dipped his head, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin of my neck. I felt my hand fly out, my fingers fisting into the expensive silk bedsheet, crushing the red flower petals until their juice stained my skin. My **chooda made a frantic, clashing sound** as I gripped the fabric, my other hand reaching up to squeeze his massive bicep, my nails digging into his hard muscle just to keep myself from floating away.

I was a mess. My **long curly hair** was matted against the pillows, and the **sindoor** in my hairline was barely visible, blurred and smudged by the sweat of our exertion.

When he finally bottomed out, filling me so completely that I felt his heartbeat inside me, he let out a long, tortured groan. My legs instinctively folded around his waist, locking him in, my small body trembling under the weight of his **6'3" frame**.

"God, Ishi..." he whispered, his **ocean-blue eyes** dark with a mix of agony and ecstasy as he looked down at me. "So tight, *Jaan*... so incredibly tight. But I love it. I love how you wrap around me like you were made for this."

I couldn't speak. I could only moan his name, my walls clenching and pulsing around his dangerous hardness, trying to adjust to the sheer scale of him. He fit perfectly, like a key in a lock that had been waiting three years to be turned. The pain was slowly receding, replaced by a deep, heavy throb of satisfaction that made me pull him even closer, wanting to disappear into him entirely.

The rhythm of his body against mine was relentless—a slow, deep, and punishingly hard thrust that seemed to reach the very center of my soul. Every time he drove himself into me, I let out a broken, non-stop cry, my voice echoing through the vast, empty villa.

"Aaaa... *hnnn*... Ru! *Aaaa... Patidev... aaaa!*"

My head fell back, my **long curly hair** fanning out across the pillows like a wild dark forest. The pleasure was so intense it felt like a beautiful kind of hell. Outside, the Parisian winter air was biting and the **Eiffel Tower** was twinkling in the distance, but inside this room, the air was scorching. There was no one to hear us; the entire floor was silent, leaving us free to be as loud and as primal as we wanted.

Rudra let out a guttural, low moan against my ear, a sound of pure surrender that I had never heard from the 'Cold Prince' before. He was supporting his heavy, muscular weight on one arm—knowing he was far too big for my slim figure—while his other hand was busy squeezing my breast, his thumb flicking the peak while his mouth worked on the other.

As the rhythm took us over, my mind flickered through the flashes of our **five years of love**. I saw him catching me at the **Shiv Mandir** stairs, his **ocean-blue eyes** meeting mine for the first time. I felt the spray of the water from our **first rain dance**, the roar of the wind during our **first bike ride**. I remembered the silence of the **Gurudwara** when he confessed his love despite his lack of faith, and the way the **Radha Krishna dupatta** had fallen over us during my confession. The three years of agonizing distance, the kidnapping, the tears... it was all leading to this moment.

"Ishi..." he rasped, his voice vibrating deep inside my chest as he pulled me even closer, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "Do you have any idea how much I've craved this? Every night for three years... I dreamed of this."

He leaned down, his lips ghosting over my sweat-slicked forehead. "Whenever I enter you, *Janna*... I don't ever want to come out. I want to stay buried inside you until the world ends."

"Ru... *hnnngh*... please... never leave me again," I sobbed out, my **chooda clinking** as I wrapped my arms around his thick neck, my legs locking even tighter around his waist. "Aaaa... *hah*... you're so deep... it's too much... *Rudra!*"

"It’s not enough," he growled, his dominant side taking over as he increased the pace, his eyes locked onto mine with a terrifying possessiveness. "I want you to feel every bit of me. I want you to remember that your body was designed for mine."

"Yes... *aaaaoohhh*... I am yours... *Patidev*... only yours!" I screamed his name, my walls clenching around him in a desperate, rhythmic pulse.

The **sindoor** was completely gone now, replaced by the marks of our passion. He was the King of Rajasthan, and tonight, in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, he was claiming his kingdom. We were lost in each other, the past and the future merging into a single, breathtaking moment of dark, intense love.

👑 Rudra’s Perspective

The sound of her voice—that broken, high-pitched melody of my name—was the only thing I wanted to hear for the rest of my life. She was moaning badly now, her body a frantic mess of tremors and heat beneath mine. The pleasure was so intense I could feel it behind my eyes, a dark, blinding pressure that finally snapped.

With one last, deep surge that felt like I was trying to reach her very soul, I felt her clench around me in a rhythmic, desperate release. I followed her immediately, a guttural roar leaving my throat as I poured every ounce of my five-year-long wait into her.

I collapsed against her for a heartbeat, my chest heaving, the scent of crushed roses and **chocolate** intoxicating me. But I wasn't done. Not even close.

I pulled out, my movements sharp and fueled by a renewed hunger. I stripped the spent condom away and reached for another, my hands steady despite the fire in my blood. I looked down at Ishita; she was flushed, her **long curly hair** a wild storm on the pillows, her brown eyes hazy and searching for me.

"Ru..." she whispered, her voice a shredded thread.

"Again, *Janna*," I growled.

I didn't give her time to recover. I spread her legs wider, hooking them over my shoulders this time, and entered her in one hard, deep thrust. She let out a sharp gasp, her body tensing as she welcomed me back into her heat. This round, the 'Cold Prince' was gone—there was only the man who wanted to brand her.

I pinned her hands to the pillows on either side of her face, our **fingers intertwined** so tightly our knuckles turned white. Her **chooda clinked and rattled** between our wrists, a frantic, metallic music that marked every move I made.

"Look at me, Ishita," I commanded, my voice a dark, dominant vibration. I began to thrust with a rough, primal rhythm, my muscles rippling with the effort of my control. "Look at your husband. Tell me who owns this heart. Tell me who owns this body."

"Aaaa... *Ru... hah...* you! Only you... *Patidev!*... please... *mmmhh*... so hard... *aaaah!*"

She was a moaning mess, her head tossing from side to side as I drove into her. I was being rough, my movements heavy and demanding, but she met every thrust with a desperate arch of her hips.

"God, you're so tight," I groaned, my own moans joining hers in the quiet air of the villa. "Mmm... *Ishi*... the way you feel... I’m never letting you go. You hear me? Never. I’ll keep you locked in this bed until you forget there’s a world outside this room."

"Yes... *hnnngh*... lock me away... *Rudra!*... I’m yours... *ahhh!*... faster... *please!*"

I leaned down, biting the curve of her shoulder, my sweat dripping onto her golden skin. The **sindoor** was a faded memory on her forehead, but the marks I was leaving—the bruises of my love and the fire of my touch—were very real. I was the storm, and she was the only thing keeping me grounded.

"You're my life, Ishita," I rasped, the roughness of my movements belying the tenderness in my words. "Everything I am... everything I’ve built... it’s all for this. For you."

We were a chaotic blur of limbs and silk, the winter stars of Paris witnessing a love that had survived kidnapping, distance, and time. I didn't care about the 30 years I'd lived before this night. My life started and ended right here, inside the woman who had finally brought the Prince to his knees.

The intensity in the room was suffocating, a thick veil of passion that made every breath a struggle. I didn't just want to be with her; I wanted to consume her. My thrusts became more rhythmic, deep, and punishingly hard. I was pushing into her with a raw power that made her entire body vibrate against mine. Every time I bottomed out, our hips met with a heavy, wet thud—a sound of two lives finally, violently becoming one.

Her **breast bounced** against my chest with every surge, the friction of our sweat-slicked skin creating a heat that felt like it would incinerate us both. I kept her hands pinned firmly to the pillows, our **fingers intertwined** so tightly that I could feel her wedding ring pressing into my palm. The **chooda** between our wrists was a frantic, clashing symphony of ivory and gold.

"Ru... *hnnn*... Rudra! *Aaaa... please...* too much... *ahhh!*" she cried out, her head tossing back, her voice breaking into a thousand shattered pieces.

I looked down at her, but she couldn't even see me. Her eyes had rolled back, fluttering shut as she drowned in the sheer bliss I was providing. She was a vision of pure surrender, her body arching and trembling under my **dominant control**.

"Look at what you're doing to me, Ishi," I rasped, my own moans joining the chaos of the room, my voice sounding like gravel. "You’re so beautiful when you’re broken like this. So perfect."

As I drove into her again, her legs—still hooked over my shoulders—shook with the effort of holding on. Her **payals jiggled** frantically right next to my ears, the silver bells singing a sharp, sweet song of desire.

I leaned down, my lips grazing her damp temple, my breath hitching as I felt her clench around me for the hundredth time. "You know... this sound... your payals..." I whispered darkly, the vibrations of my voice rattling through her. "This is my **third favorite sound** in the entire world."

She tried to speak, her lips parting as if to ask what the first and second were, but her voice failed her. A soft, helpless whimper was all that escaped as my thumb brushed over her swollen lip. She was too lost in the pleasure to form words, her mind a blur of our **five years of destiny**.

I didn't make her wait for the answer. I leaned in closer, my teeth nipping at her earlobe before I delivered a thrust so deep she let out a piercing scream.

"The **first**," I growled, my **ocean-blue eyes** darkening with a terrifyingly deep love, "is your laughter. The sound that brought the Prince of Rajasthan back to life."

I paused for a heartbeat, pulling back just enough to see her face before plunging back in with a rough, final desperation.

"And the **second**," I rasped, my forehead resting against hers as we both reached the edge of the abyss, "is your moans. The way you scream my name and tell the world that you belong to no one but Rudra."

"RU! *Aaaaa... PATIDEV!*"

She shattered. I felt her soul erupt beneath me, her internal walls gripping me with a fierce, rhythmic pulse that finally broke my last shred of restraint. I followed her into the dark, pouring every ounce of my obsession and my 'no mercy' promise into her. We were two stars colliding in the Parisian night, our destiny finally sealed in the most divine, dark, and beautiful way possible.

The silence that followed was louder than any of the screams we had just shared. It was a heavy, weighted silence, filled only by the sound of our jagged, synchronised breathing.

I felt her walls give one last, powerful clench around me—a final, involuntary grip that forced the loudest, most primal groan from my throat. Even through the barrier of the condom, I felt the phantom heat of our union, a pulse of energy that made my vision swim. I was completely spent, my muscles trembling with the aftershocks of a thirty-year-old hunger finally being satiated.

I didn't pull away. I couldn't. I stayed there, buried deep inside her, as I slowly and tenderly unhooked her legs from my shoulders. I pressed a lingering, reverent kiss to her ankles, my lips brushing against the silver **payals** that had been the soundtrack to my undoing.

As I collapsed into her, my full weight pressing her into the mattress, our damp, sweat-slicked skin acted like silk against silk. Her legs, once locked so tightly around my waist, finally lost their strength, falling onto the bed with a soft thud, still shaking from the intensity of the release.

"Ru..." she whispered, the word vibrating against my chest, sounding more like a prayer than a name.

I slowly released her wrists, my fingers lingering on the red marks my grip had left—marks I would later kiss away with a thousand apologies. I slid my arms beneath her waist, pulling her flush against me, my face buried in the crook of her neck. I could feel her heart hammering against my ribs, a wild bird finally finding its cage.

We lay there, perfectly still, as the last drops of pleasure escaped her core—a warm, sticky stain on the silk sheets and the bruised rose petals. I knew that stain well. It was the same mark of our souls merging that had graced our bed in the **Rathor Mansion** on our first and second nights. A mark of our destiny, written in the stars and sealed in the flesh.

"I've got you, *Janna*," I rasped, my voice a broken, velvet low. "I've got you. You're safe. You're home."

I pulled back just enough to look at her. Her eyes were shut tight, a single, crystalline tear of pure bliss escaping from the corner of her lash and tracing a path down to her temple. She looked shattered, beautiful, and completely mine.

"Rudra... *Patidev*..." she murmured, her hands feebly tracing the muscles of my back. "It was... I never thought... Paris would be like this."

I let out a low, dark chuckle, kissing the tip of her nose. "I told you, Ishi. No mercy. You’re the only woman in the world who can bring a Prince to his knees and make him thank God for the privilege."

I shifted slightly, finally withdrawing from her with a slow, reluctant pull that made us both hiss in a final moment of shared sensation. I discarded the protection, then immediately pulled her back into my arms, wrapping the duvet around us both to shield her from the Parisian chill.

"Go to sleep, my angel," I whispered, my hand stroking her **long curly hair** away from her sweat-dampened forehead. "When you wake up, I'll show you that the dream has only just begun.

I watched her for a long time in the silence of the suite, the only sound being the rhythmic, shallow pull of her breath. She had fallen into a deep, bone-weary sleep almost the second I pulled the duvet over us. My **angel**, my **Janna**, was finally at peace.

I propped myself up on one elbow, my **ocean-blue eyes** tracing every inch of her face in the soft, blue moonlight. She looked so small, so delicate amidst the wreckage of our passion—the torn lace, the scattered, crushed rose petals, and the damp silk. I reached out, my large hand looking dark and powerful against her golden-brown skin, and began to caress her breast. It was swollen, sensitive, and proudly carried the dark, purple marks of my teeth and lips.

A surge of possessive protectiveness hit me so hard it was physically painful. These were the brands of a King on his Queen. I had been rough, I had been dominant, and I had fulfilled my promise of 'no mercy,' but seeing her like this—shattered and surrendered—made the 'Cold Prince' feel a warmth he hadn't known in thirty years.

"I have you now, Ishi," I whispered, my voice barely a thread of sound so I wouldn't disturb her. "Three years of hell for this one night of heaven... it was a bargain I'd make a thousand times over."

I leaned down and pressed a ghost of a kiss to the **sindoor**-stained spot on her forehead. My thumb traced the curve of her hip, feeling the slight tremors that still occasionally shook her legs. I knew she would be sore tomorrow; I knew that my size and my hunger had pushed her to her limits.

I made a silent vow right then, watching the way her **long curly hair** fanned out like silk across my arm. I would spend the rest of this birthday, and every day after, making sure she never felt anything but adored. When she woke up, I would bathe her myself in that glass jacuzzi. I would feed her with my own hands. I would be the gentle husband she deserved, after being the beast she had unleashed tonight.

I pulled her closer, her back against my chest, fitting her perfectly into the contours of my body. Her **payals** let out one last, sleepy jingle as she subconsciously tucked her feet into mine.

"Sleep, my love," I murmured into the nape of her neck, inhaling the scent of her—a mix of vanilla, chocolate, and the raw, musky aroma of our love. "Your 'Patidev' is standing guard. No one, not the shadows of the past or the rivals of the present, will ever touch you again."

As the clock ticked further into my 30th year, I realized I didn't need any more gifts. I had the only one that mattered, sleeping soundly in my arms, her heart beating a steady, beautiful rhythm against mine. I closed my eyes, letting the exhaustion finally take me, anchored by the weight of the woman who was my destiny.