𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐8|𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞

Saanvi Pov :

I was fully immersed in preparing breakfast .The soft hum of life was waking up around me but inside me, I was still tangled in the storm that had been last night

I winced as I leaned forward to pull open the spice drawer and then my fingers glistening with a mixture of haldi and red chili.

Every inch of my skin tingled not from discomfort, but from the memory of his touch.

His lips.

His voice.

The way he whispered my name like a vow and a curse at once.

Him

My wild beast.

My weakness.

Mummy ji and Chachi ji had left for the temple early this morning, and I'd used the opportunity to start preparing breakfast for the whole family. Parathas, paneer bhurji, chutney and of course

adrak wali chai.

But if I was honest with myself, I'd stayed back only because I couldn't walk straight without blushing from head to toe.

Because of him.

"Ugh, Raj," I muttered under my breath, cheeks heating as I mixed the spices.

He'd been absolutely ruthless last night.

He knew I was giving him the silent treatment all day. He tried every charm in the book to make me talk from back hugs to teasing whispers but I held my ground.

So what did he do?

He broke my ground.

With his mouth, his fingers, and his sinful tongue. He didn't let me sleep the entire night.

Punished me.

Claimed me.

Possessed me.

My legs still trembled just thinking about it.

I was barely able to hold the spatula straight as I flipped the parathas.

"Don't think about it, Saanvi," I whispered to myself, shaking my head.

But just then like a damn telepath he walked into the kitchen.

Still in his black vest and joggers, looking like every girl's sin and every wife's nightmare. Hair slightly messy. Jaw sharp. That dangerous smirk playing on his lips.

"Good morning, biwi," he drawled, stepping closer.

I didn't respond.

My heart, however, skipped a beat.

"You're still mad? "he asked, walking behind me, close enough that I felt the heat of his body pressing into my back.

I stirred the bhurji with extra force, not giving him the satisfaction of a reply.

He chuckled.

Then, his hands found my waist

"Don't get too close, Raj," I warned without turning around, my tone teasing, "My hands are dirty with spices."

But did he ever listen?

His arms caged me against the kitchen counter, and his lips brushed against the nape of my neck, his voice like velvet against my skin.

"I don't need your hands... just you and your mouth, sweetheart."

Before I could respond or even roll my eyes his lips found mine in a feather-light peck. It was the kind of kiss that said I missed you in every way and for a second, I nearly melted right there in his arms.

I pulled away instantly, glancing nervously toward the hallway.

"Koi dekh lega..."I whispered, heart racing.

He didn't budge.

His lips hovered near my cheek as he gently brushed a strand of hair from my face. His eyes bore into mine, full of hunger and mischief.

"Shhh... Tum bas mujhe dekho, jaan."

(Just look at me, my love.)

And then, as he leaned in once more to capture my lips

Thud!

I panicked, placing both my spice-stained hands on his chest and pushing him away a little too hard. He stumbled back not gracefully at all and his lips smacked directly into the cool tiled wall behind him.

"Ow!" he winced, rubbing his mouth dramatically.

I burst out laughing.

"You deserved that," I said between giggles. "I told you not to get too close!".

Still holding his mouth, he pointed a mock-accusing finger at me. "You, Mrs. Rajawat, becoming very violent lately."

I raised a brow and pointed my messy hands at him. "I'm armed with haldi and lal mirch, don't test me."

He walked back over, this time more cautious, and dipped a clean cloth in water to gently wipe my hands.

"What are you doing?" I asked softly, heart still fluttering.

"Taking away your excuses," he said with a lopsided grin. "Now your hands are clean. So, no more "Don't touch me, Raj."

Before I could react, he kissed my knuckles one by one soft, reverent, like a prince kissing the hands of his queen.

I said, laughing through my blush. "Be serious, Raj What if someone sees us?

I backed up against the kitchen counter, gripping the edge for balance.

He caged me in with his arms on either side of the counter, dipping his head until his nose brushed mine. "You were thinking about last night, weren't you? That's why your cheeks are red."

I swallowed thickly. "Shut up."

"Oh, sweetheart," he whispered, licking his lips. "After last night... how can I? You were screaming my name so loud-

"Raj,"I smacked his shoulder, utterly scandalized.

He chuckled deeply, pulling me into a hug and burying his face into my neck. "I love you so damn much, it messes with my head, jaan, But when you ignore me?

That's the one thing that brings me to my knees and you know how exactly I use it."

My heart softened. My fingers curled into his hair.

"I wasn't ignoring you. I was... punishing you back."

Oh really?" he murmured against my neck, nipping the skin. "Then get ready again, because your punishment isn't over."

My body shivered. Heat pooled low in my stomach.

" You just stut up I'm not doing any punishment now," I said while rolling my eyes".

Suddenly Kiara voice echoed from the hallway.

"Bhabhi ! Is breakfast ready!"

Raj pulled away instantly, muttering, "Jab dekho, romance ke beech aa jaate hain," he groaned in frustration.

Ek baar toh properly touch karne do, jaan warna abh ki bar main lock kar dunga sab ke kamre." He mumbled under his breath while I stifled my giggle.

I kissed his cheek. "Now go sit and behave. I'll bring breakfast."

He winked. "Only if you feed me with that mouth I adore."

I flushed red. " You really need an filter ".

He grabbed a paratha and walked off like nothing happened.

"Ab?" he asked huskily, lips dangerously close again.

I held my breath, but smiled despite myself.

"Ab... go eat your paratha before I feed it to the birds,"I teased, brushing past him.

He chuckled, catching my saree pallu as I walked away and pulling me right back into his chest.

"Later tonight," he whispered near my ear, "you're going to pay for that wall stunt janeman."

My cheeks flushed scarlet.

"Let see and I'll add extra chili in your food," I muttered under my breath.

He smirked, planting one last kiss on my forehead. "Perfect. Let it burn... like the way you do in my arms."

And I?

just stood there flustered, sore, and completely, hopelessly, stupidly in love.

After some time the dining room of the Rajawat mansion was buzzing with soft laughter. Mummy ji and chachi ji had returned from the temple and Papa ji was seated at the head of the table reading the headlines aloud like he always did.

I had laid the breakfast lovingly hot parathas, aloo curry, dahi, and fresh fruit.

But my eyes were stuck on one man.

Raj.

He sat beside me, dressed in his usual morning formals crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled, hair combed neatly.

But his attention?

Stolen.

He was holding his phone to his ear, nodding as he spoke to someone on his business call. His breakfast lay untouched . His spoon barely scraped through the curry, and his paratha remained folded.

I watched as he responded, "Haan, I told you, get the report approved before noon... call Shekhawat again if required".

His other hand scribbled something in his notepad.

I sighed softly.

He'd been so full of attention and wild energy last night and now here he was, immersed in work, lips moving with terms like investment strategy and shares movement instead of whispering sweet nothings like "jaan" or "baby".

I tore a piece of paratha, dipped it in the curry, and nudged his arm lightly.

He looked at me briefly and blinked like he'd just remembered I existed. I raised the bite to his lips.

" Eat ," I whispered gently, cheeks warming.

He blinked again and leaned in, still on call, and took the bite from my fingers with a soft nod of thanks, chewing absently while his gaze returned to his notes.

But just as I was about to offer him another bite, I realized

Mummy ji and Papa ji were watching.

Mummy ji had paused mid-sip of her tea, and Papa ji had lowered his newspaper, eyes twinkling with quiet amusement. Chachi ji and Chachu ji were also at the table, and I caught Kiara raising her brows at me with a mischievous smirk.

My heart skipped.

I slowly pulled my hand back, nervous and a little embarrassed.

What was I doing?

Feeding my husband like a love-sick teenager in front of the whole family?

But then, something unexpected happened.

Chachi ji leaned in and fed Chachu ji a bite.

He smiled and took it gently from her hands. And then Papa ji yes, Papa ji said to Mummy ji, "You used to feed me like this too, remember?"

Mummy ji laughed softly, her cheeks coloring, and fed him a spoonful of fruits.

And then I turned to Raj again, and this time, I didn't hesitate.

He was finally off his call, resting the phone on the table with a deep exhale. "Sorry, jaan. This deal's messing with my head."

"It's okay," I whispered.

I tore another bite of paratha, dipped it, and raised it to his lips once more. This time, he looked at me properly eyes warm, expression softer than before.

He opened his mouth to take the bite, but instead of simply chewing it

He playfully bit my fingers.

"Raj behave ," I gasped, quickly withdrawing my hand.

He smirked, chewing with innocent eyes. "What? You taste better than the curry."

I gave him a death glare while my face went beet red. "Koi sun lega".

Kiara giggled across the table. "Too late, bhabhi. Sab sun chuke hain".

Raj leaned closer to me, whispering, "Next time I'll bite your lips instead."

I stomped lightly on his foot under the table.

"Ow!" he said dramatically, making everyone laugh.

Even Papa ji chuckled, saying, "Looks like Rajveer has finally someone who can handle him."

"I agree,"Mummy ji added with a soft smile. "It's nice to see him being tamed by love."

I flushed from head to toe.

After breakfast complete I was just placing the cutlery on the table when Raj stood up from his chair, buttoning the cuff of his shirt and adjusting his silver watch with that usual sharp gaze in his eyes the one that always said he was already thinking ten steps ahead in his world of business and control.

He looked striking, of course. White shirt rolled at the sleeves, veins prominent on his forearms, a thin chain glinting at the base of his neck.

But what he said next froze the breath in my lungs.

"I'm leaving for a business trip to London." He said, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt while his Bluetooth rested in one ear.

Like he didn't even want to say it.

I froze, my hand still holding the serving spoon. My eyes slowly lifted to meet his.

"Rajveer beta, for how many days?" Mummy ji asked casually, sipping her tea, completely unaware of the bomb he was about to drop.

He didn't look at anyone still flipping through his iPad, his voice distracted, low, business-like.

"Not days, Maa for one month."

One. Whole. Month.

I turned, stunned.

The spoon slipped from my hand into the bowl with a clink.

"One month?" Chachi ji repeated, looking stunned.

Even Kiara, sitting beside me, turned with big curious eyes. "One month, bhai Sa ".

Raj didn't look at me.

He was speaking on call with Abhiman now. " Book the private jet for next Friday night. Make sure the security detail is tight. We leave by midnight and inform the Shekhawat legal team. I want this deal clean, no noise."

But Mummy ji wasn't having it. She stood up, folding her hands across her chest, and looked at him sharply.

"Your marriage hasn't even crossed a month properly and you're going to London for a whole month? Leaving my daughter here like alone ."

Mummy ji's sharp eyes immediately flew to me. Her voice held a mixture of concern and complaint.

Raj finally looked up from his screen. His eyes flicked toward me. For a moment, there was that softness in his gaze, that flicker of concern.

Then he surprised everyone by replying in a flat tone," she come with me."

The heat crept up my cheeks. My breath caught.

All eyes turned toward me. My heart beat loud in my ears.

And then I said it. "I can't come, Raj ."

The words felt like lead on my tongue, but I didn't look away.

"I have multiple surgeries scheduled this month. I've already lost two months lying unconscious in a coma. My patients have waited long enough. I can't abandon them again."

For a second, the whole room went silent. Even the ticking clock on the wall seemed louder.

Raj's jaw clenched. His fingers curled around his iPad. I could see the storm in his eyes even if he said nothing.

"Cancel them," he said at last, his voice sharp, clipped.

"I'm not just a wife, Raj ," I replied quietly. "I'm a doctor too. People depend on me."

He looked away.

Mummy ji sighed, walking to my side and placing a warm hand on my shoulder. "You both have duties, I understand but don't let this duty become distance. One month is a long time."

Raj looked back at me, something unreadable flashing in his gaze.

Pain?

Anger?

Or a helplessness he would never admit?

And then He walked away.

He said nothing. Not even a flicker of argument. He simply turned and walked upstairs.

My throat burned.

My heart stung.

The casual way he accepted that I wouldn't come that he'd just leave.

It broke something in me.

I turned away from him only when I felt Mummy ji's arms wrap around me. "He's a man, beta. Sometimes they let silence speak instead of words. But he loves you. That I know."

I nodded and smiled and then I quietly walked behind him, step after step. When I reached our room, he was already grabbing his files, still on call.

But something in me couldn't take it anymore.

I stood at the doorway, heart clenched, tears clouding my eyes.

My voice came out cracked, but I didn't care." So... one month, huh Isn't too long ?"

He didn't even turn.

He was still on call, saying, "Yes, forward that to London office. Also tell Shekhawat we need confirmation by"

Then he turned and saw me.

He froze.

I could see it in his eyes the moment he registered the tear slipping down my cheek.

He said on the call in a low voice, "I'll call you back."

And cut it.

He slowly walked toward me, each step heavy with silence. He didn't speak at first. Just reached me, stood inches away.

Then...

Click.

He locked the door behind me.

And in the next moment, without warning, he pinned me gently to the door.

I gasped softly, tears threatening to spill further as I looked into those intense, unreadable eyes.

He raised his hand, thumb brushing under my eye, catching my tear.

"Jaan... he whispered, voice low and rough, "why are you crying like I'm never coming back?"

I bit my lip and looked away. "Because you're not even trying to stay. You didn't ask. You just decided. Like I'm an afterthought."

His jaw clenched. "Don't say that."

"Why not? That's how I feel." I snapped, finally letting it spill.

"You didn't say anything when I said I can't come. Not a word, not even a stay safe, baby. I know work is important, Raj, but..."

My voice broke. "Can't I be important too?"

Silence.

And then...

He leaned in, forehead pressing against mine.

"You are," he breathed. "You are the only thing that matters."

I tried to move but he caged me in, palms on either side of my face. His breath was hot, his voice softer now. "You think I want to go? That I haven't been ripping myself apart every second I think about leaving you?"

He cupped my cheek, pressing a kiss to the tear-trail. "You're the first person I've ever wanted to come home to. The first person I think of when I wake up. You're not an afterthought, Jaan. You're the only thought."

I blinked at him, my heart swelling and breaking all at once.

"Then why-"

"Because this is for you, jaan," he said. "For us. That London project? It'll set the future for our next twenty years. Our kids. Their future. I want to build you a world where you never have to worry again."

"But I don't want a world without you in it," I whispered.

He kissed me.

Softly.

Slowly.

And then again.

Deeper.

He kissed me like he was making a promise. That no matter how far he went, I'd always be his home.

I whispered through our kisses, "Don't go..."

He kissed my forehead. "If you say that one more time, I'll cancel everything."

I looked up at him, eyes wide.

He smiled sadly. "But I know you won't. Because you understand. Because you're strong. My jaan, my doctor."

I let out a small laugh, despite the tears.

Then he whispered something against my lips, his breath warm.

"One month, Jaan. And then I'm all yours. Every night. Every second. And when I return...".

His lips brushed my ear.

"I'll make up for every day I was gone. Every. Single. One."

His arms were still around me, my back resting against the door, our breaths mingling in the hush of the locked room. His thumb stroked the curve of my cheek as if he was memorizing it for the time he'd be gone.

I stared into his eyes those fierce, commanding, unapologetically intense eyes but right now they looked different.

Softer.

Tired.

Needing me.

We just stood there for a few seconds, holding each other in silence.

Then I whispered, brushing my fingers against his collar, "So London it means it'll be really cold this time, right?"

He hummed, "Hmm, jaan. Very cold."

I looked down at the thin shirt he was wearing, and instinctively began adjusting the buttons at the collar like I always did. My fingers brushed his skin, and he smirked, sensing my care.

I whispered, "So you'll need winter clothes too."

He raised a brow, curious.

I played with the edge of my nuptial chain twisting it around my fingers nervously as I spoke again, "Shouldn't we go shopping then? You can't go with just your suits."

He smirked again, that lopsided smirk that made my knees weak every single time.

"Hmm."He nodded slowly, eyes dropping to my lips and then to my fingers still fiddling with the chain. "I'll come back after lunch be ready by then. We'll go together."

His voice dropped, laced with something husky and heated.

"Okay, jaan?"

I nodded, heart thudding.

But of course, being Raj, he couldn't leave the moment without turning it into something sinful and teasing.

He leaned close to my ear, his breath fanning over the shell of it as he whispered darkly, "Now wipe those tears, sweetheart unless you want them to turn into breathless screams and sinful moans. I still have two long, filthy nights left to fuck you."

My breath hitched.

I stepped back, cheeks burning. "Raj Be serious ,"I gasped, half-scolding, half-dying inside.

He chuckled.

A full, deep, rich sound that vibrated in his chest.

"Don't act innocent now, Mrs.Rajawat," he said, flicking the mangalsutra I was just nervously touching. "You know what this means. Mine. Fully. Every inch."

"Raj!" I tried again, this time flustered and red.

But he wasn't done.

He leaned in again and pressed a kiss just under my jaw. "Two nights, jaan. So save your energy... I won't let you sleep even one second."

I pushed him back, but my push barely had any strength.

He just pecked my lips grinned and walked away toward the closet, grabbing his coat and phone again. Before leaving, he turned once more and added, "Wear that red saree I like. The one with the pearl embroidery.

And then he gave me a wicked wink before walking out of the room.

Later That Day

I stood in front of the mirror, holding the saree he requested. The red and gold one. It was elegant, graceful, with pearlwork so delicate it shimmered under the light.

As I adjusted my saree and applied a faint pink tint to my lips, I thought about his words.



Rajveer Pov

I didn't look back.

If I had I would've folded. The way she stood at the doorway, fingers fiddling with that mangalsutra, her big, watery eyes asking me to stay without uttering a single word it took every ounce of control in me to walk out without pulling her into my arms again.

I told her I'd be back after lunch.

Told her to wear the red saree I loved.

But truth?

I just wanted to delay leaving. Delay the ache of not waking up next to her. Of not seeing her brush her hair beside the mirror, not arguing with me about how strong the coffee should be, or not moaning my name when I buried myself inside her like she was mine because she is mine.

This one-month trip to London for business . But no deal, no crores, no boardroom could match the price of leaving her behind.

As I stepped into my cabin, silence greeted me.

Cold.

Organized.

Just like my mind tried to be.

I sank into the leather chair, loosened my cufflinks, and muttered under my breath, "One month, Rajveer. Just one damn month."

I tapped the screen, brought up the presentation. Numbers, projections, shares. The kind of stuff that once gave me a thrill now felt like filler a distraction from thinking of her skin under my hands, her scent in my shirt, her lips beneath mine.

The meeting began. I flipped through the slides, gave instructions like a robot. The team took notes, nodded, followed like always.

But my mind was with her.

Had she eaten lunch or not?

Was she still staring at the door, waiting for the hours to pass before we went shopping?

Was she replaying my words in her head the way I was doing?

"...Sir?" someone said.

I blinked. "Hmm".

The assistant hesitated. "Slide 9? You've gone back to slide 2."

Damn it.

I ended the meeting early.

I didn't need to be here.

I needed to breathe.

Just as I stood up, the door clicked and opened. Two familiar voices entered my space.

" Rajveer, "Aditya grinned, walking in with that easy charm of his.

"Busy ruining people in the boardroom again?" Karan teased, flopping on the couch like he owned the place.

I gave them a dry look, folding my arms.

"Not today."

They exchanged a glance.

Aditya leaned forward, mock-serious. "You look like you've swallowed your tongue. What happened?Is bhabhi threw you out of the room?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm leaving for London in two days. For a month."

Karan whistled. "A month? You sure the country won't fall apart without your intense glares and death threats?"

Aditya nudged me. "Or maybe bhabhi will?"

That hit home harder than it should've.

I sat back, rubbing my jaw.

"She cried this morning."

Silence followed.

I rarely ever shared. Not like this. But today, it felt too heavy to carry.

" I told her she could come," I added. "But she has surgeries scheduled. That hospital saved her life. I can't ask her to abandon it."

Karan nodded, quietly. Aditya looked thoughtful.

Aditya said gently. "You're no longer the angry man who only talked about power and revenge. And bhabhi she no longer the fragile who once flinched at your tone. You're a team now."

I nodded, looking out the glass window.

"She's my peace and my chaos.".

Karan laughed out loud, clutching his stomach like he'd just heard the best joke of the century "That poor wall. Your lips slammed against it when she pushed you away? I swear bhabhi is the only woman alive who makes Rajveer Singh Rajawat look like a love-struck teenager."

I gave a soft chuckle despite myself.

Because they were right.

Every damn word of it.

I was completely, shamelessly, irreversibly hers. One look from her one pout, one angry glare, one smile and I was ready to burn down the world or fall on my knees.

Whatever pleased her more.

I leaned back in my chair, arching a brow as I said dryly, "It's Kiara who told you this, didn't she?"

Karan smirked, not even trying to deny it. "Bingo. Your dear sister was giggling like a schoolgirl this morning when she narrated the whole 'wall-kiss-fail' scene on video call."

Aditya howled with laughter. "You? The man who's known to pin rivals to walls was pinned by his own wife and rejected?

He clapped his hands. "This is gold. Absolute gold!"

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the grin that tugged at my lips.

"You two act like I got rejected at prom."

"No no," Karan wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye, "you got "Saanvi'd". That's a different level of shutdown."

Aditya added, smirking, "It's okay Rajveer it's not rejection It's delayed acceptance. bhabhi just likes watching you beg."

I narrowed my eyes at them both. "If either of you tell her that I smiled at this conversation, I swear I'll send you to handle the Shekhawat deal with a blindfold and a lie detector."

They immediately raised their hands in surrender.

But inside, I felt lighter.

This banter these idiots they were my grounding force. And the fact that Kiara saw that moment and told everyone?

Well, that was my sister for you. Nosy, loyal, and a menace when it came to teasing.

Still...

Saanvi.

Her name pulsed in my veins like a rhythm I couldn't ignore.

After they left, I stayed in the cabin for a while longer.

I pulled out my phone, staring at the wallpaper. Her photo. In that pink saree. Smiling with a dimple that could stop hearts.

I zoomed in ran a thumb along the screen.

And whispered, "I miss you already."

Then I typed:

Raj: Be ready by 3. I'll take you shopping, but come in my favorite saree. I'll drive."

Three dots appeared on the screen. She was typing. Then stopped.

No reply.

Maybe she's still mad. Or maybe she's picking the earrings already.

Either way, tonight she was mine.

Because I had two nights to make her feel loved, wanted, ruined, and full.

After that, I only had video calls and aching nights in hotel beds in London.

And all I could hope was that my jaan, my wife wouldn't cry again.

Later the day

I stepped into the mansion right at lunchtime, my jacket slung over one shoulder, watch ticking like a reminder that I had barely two days left before I'd have to leave her leave this madness we call love.

"Jaan!" I called from the base of the stairs, my voice echoing through the house.

No reply.

"Jaan! Hurry up, I'm home!"

Still silence.

I frowned.

Was she upset again?

I began to climb the stairs, slow, deliberate. And that's when my breath caught in my throat.

There she stood framed in the room wearing that red saree. Draped like sin. Draped like she knew the power she held over me.

I froze midway. My brain shut down. Logic surrendered. And all I could think was-

"Fuck."

This woman would ruin me.

That saree clung to her like it was jealous of my hands. Her waist shimmered with the slightest curve of skin exposed, and her hair fell in waves, teasing me, tempting me to run my fingers through every strand.

I could imagine her pressed into the living room sofa, her red pallu falling, the fabric pooling at her waist while I held her thighs apart-

"Stop looking at me like that," she snapped, arms crossing over her chest, raising an eyebrow.

My lips curled into a smirk as I took a slow step forward. She took a step back.

"Like what, hmm, jaan?" My voice was low, the tease heavy in every syllable.

"Like you're undressing me with your eyes."She bit her lower lip.

Dangerous.

Because that lip? Was mine to bite.

"Wrong, jaan," I murmured, now just a breath away from her, "I already undressed you in my mind. Now I'm just admiring the view."

She gasped, about to protest, but I raised my finger and placed it gently on her lips. Her soft lips parted at the touch, and I slowly slid my finger inside her mouth-teasing. Testing.

Her eyes widened.

I pulled it back and whispered close to her ear, letting my breath graze her skin.

"Tasty..."As I licked it . My voice deepened.

"I told you, in these two days you're going to scream my name again and again. Even if you're still sore from last night. You remember how rough I was, don't you?" I kissed the corner of her jaw.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her cheeks flushed.

I grabbed her wrist gently, pulled her close, body brushing against mine.

"Should I remind you?"

She pushed at my chest lightly, her voice a breathless whisper. "Someone will see..."

"Let them." I growled, my hands gripping her waist possessively.

Then I looked at the clock. Damn.

"Later, jaan," I smirked, brushing a kiss over her neck. "Now Let's go shopping-before I lose the last bit of control and ruin that saree with my lust, right here on this cold marble floor while you scream my name like a prayer."

She gave me a warning glare, but her cheeks were crimson.

And then We stepped out of the mansion golden hues dancing across her face as she adjusted the pleats of her red saree before slipping into the passenger seat of my black Range Rover. She looked like a dream, and I didn't want to blink in case I missed something.

Her bangles clinked delicately as she tucked her saree pallu properly and slid onto the seat, pulling the seatbelt over her. I walked around the front, adjusting my sunglasses, and got into the driver's seat.

Just as I was about to start the engine, she turned, a frown creasing her forehead slightly.

"Ruke do min ,"she said, her voice soft. "I forgot something."

I tilted my head, watching her as she began to undo her seatbelt.

Without a word, I reached out and gently grabbed her wrist.

"Kya kr-"

But I didn't let her finish.

My eyes shifted for a second, scanning the dashboard and then, just above the steering wheel, resting against the edge like it belonged there her small bindi.

My fingers picked it up carefully. She watched me in still silence, her lips parting slightly.

I turned to her, and without rushing, without speaking, I leaned in.

Our faces were barely inches apart.

Her breath slowed, her lashes lowering on instinct.

I gently placed the bindi on her forehead, right in the middle like I was marking something that was already mine.

"Ab theek," I murmured.

Then I brushed my thumb against her cheek, trailing it down the side of her jaw as I whispered with a crooked smirk, "Apki sari zarurat ki chize hamari car mein apke liye hamesha haazir hain, Mrs. Rajawat."

She blinked, her eyes softening instantly at the sound of her name from my mouth.

My wife.

Mine.

She blushed, looking down for a moment before tugging at her seatbelt again, saying nothing but I noticed the way her hand lingered near her mangalsutra, the way she swallowed slowly.

We drove off, the ride smooth and quiet for a while. The music played low soft Hindi romantic songs she loved, and occasionally, I'd glance at her, watching her hum along with a soft smile on her face as her fingers played with the edge of her saree.

The moment we pulled into the luxury mall, the Butler recognized the car. Of course he did Rajawat etched on the number plate had its own weight in this city. But he wasn't the one who stole the show.

It was her.

As the butler respectfully opened the passenger door, she stepped out in slow, graceful motion my wife , in a red saree that danced with the wind like it had fallen in love with her too.

She didn't just walk.

She floated.

Like royalty. Like Mrs. Rajveer Rajawat , and every damn head near the entrance turned.

I didn't blame them.

I would've stared too if she wasn't already mine.

I walked around the car, slipping on my sunglasses and adjusting my cufflinks as the staff greeted me. I didn't bother responding. My eyes were on only one thing.

Her.

She was brushing her hair back from her face, unaware of the chaos she'd caused around her. Some girls glared, some men ogled. And I swear if looks could kill, I'd already have blood on my hands.

I strode right up to her and slid my hand firmly around her waist. She tensed for a moment, trying to act like she didn't notice.

But I leaned in close, let my lips barely graze the shell of her ear and whispered, "I'm not letting go of you in there. People have eyes."

She let out a soft giggle, tilting her head just slightly to the side. "And you have jealousy issues, Mr. Rajawat.".

I raised an eyebrow. "With a wife like you? Absolutely."

I kissed her temple not just as a gesture, but as a mark . A subtle message to everyone who dared to look.

And then we walked in hand in hand. But it wasn't just pride. It was possessiveness that simmered just beneath the surface. Because the moment we passed the first designer store, I noticed him.

Some guy mid-thirties, well-dressed, walking too damn close to her.

Too casual.

Too confident.

And worse?

His eyes weren't on me. They were on her . Like he had the audacity to breathe the same air and maybe just maybe brush against her shoulder.

Nope.

Not happening.

In a split second, I dropped her hand, slid my arm around her waist and yanked her to my side, shielding her with my body. My move was swift, calculated. I didn't even look at the man but I made sure he saw me.

He stopped mid-step.

Good.

I turned slightly, meeting his gaze behind my sunglasses with a warning calmness. "Side hatt Kamine."

That's all I said.

Not loud.

Not dramatic.

Just enough.

He blinked, then laughed nervously and walked the other way.

Smart man.

She looked up at me, eyebrows raised. "What was that?"

I didn't remove my hand from her waist. In fact, I pulled her even closer.

"He was going to touch you." My voice was low, tight with restraint.

She smirked. "Maybe it was accidental."

"I don't care."I stopped in front of a Louis Vuitton store and looked down at her." You don't get it, do you?"

She blinked.

I leaned in, so close her breath caught. "I've fought wars to keep you safe. I've burned empires to keep you mine. If even a shadow touches you without my permission, I'll erase it from existence."

Her lips parted, a soft gasp escaping, but she said nothing.

I brushed her lower lip with my thumb. "And if that makes me possessive, then so be it."

Then I pulled the door open and gestured. "Now let's buy you everything this damn mall has to offer. My woman doesn't walk around looking like temptation without being wrapped in diamonds."

After we'd finished most of the shopping, she tugged at my hand and dragged me towards the saree collection for Sawan puja.

She ran her fingers along the soft silks and georgettes, holding up sarees against her to check their colors.

Red. Green. Yellow. Emerald. Crimson.

But the ones she paused on most were red and green the traditional shades of married devotion of love.

She turned to me, holding a parrot green saree against her frame. "How's this for the first day of Sawan?"

"Stunning. But not more than you." I replied, unable to take my eyes off her.

She smiled, shy yet teasing, and then reached for another this time a red one so deep it looked like wine. She pressed it to her waist and tilted her head. "Maybe this one too... wait! Let me try and see."

And then she turned to a salesgirl nearby, her voice soft and polite, "Where's the trial room?"

The girl a young assistant maybe in her early twenties, gave a professional nod. But the moment she lifted her eyes and saw me -

everything changed.

Her smile froze. Her eyes widened slightly.

Recognition.

Fear.

Respect.

It's always the same.

They may not say it out loud, but the moment they realize who I am Rajveer Singh Rajawat their body language changes. Shoulders straighten. Words shrink. Eyes flick down.

Because my name carries weight. Power. And a history of not being crossed.

She quickly pointed to the side hallway. "That way, Ma'am. The third room to the right."

My wife nodded sweetly and turned to me with a smirk." I'll be right back."

I folded my arms and leaned closer. "If you take longer than ten minutes, I'm coming in."

She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Don't you dare."

"Try me Sweetheart." I winked.

She walked off, the two sarees draped over her arm, her hips swaying just enough to keep me distracted as she disappeared around the corner.

The salesgirl lingered awkwardly nearby, stealing glances at me.

I turned my eyes to her slowly.

She flinched.

"Something you want to say?" I asked, my tone calm, cold.

"N-No, Sir. Just-sorry, I didn't expect..."

"To see me here?" I smirked.

She nodded weakly.

"I'm not just headlines and empire rumors. I'm a husband first. And she's all that matters." My eyes darkened as I glanced toward the trial room.

"So make sure she's taken care of. No mistakes."

She nodded hurriedly and rushed off.

Ten minutes passed.

Then twelve.

And just when I was about to go back there, the curtain shifted-

And she stepped out.

Wearing that deep red saree, pleated perfectly to hug every curve, the pallu falling delicately across her shoulder, her waist bare. Her eyes searched for me and when they landed on mine.

I forgot how to breathe.

Everyone else disappeared.

She walked toward me slowly, adjusting the drape across her chest, biting her lower lip.

"So?" she asked, hands nervously toying with the pleats. "Too much?"

"Too perfect." I stepped forward, cupping her waist. "How the hell am I supposed to let you walk into a puja like this? You want every man to burn in jealousy?"

She laughed softly. "It's Sawan. Married women wear red or green. You don't want me to be left out, do you?"

"You could wear a sack and still outshine the world."

I leaned in, lowering my voice near her ear. "But this? This is punishment. I'll spend the whole day watching men try not to stare at you while pretending they're looking at the idol."

She turned redder than the saree, smacking my chest lightly.

"Raj!"

"What? I'm just telling you the truth jaan".

She gasped, looking around.

I grinned.

Possessive? Always.

But this wasn't just obsession.

It was love.

And then again to try some more saree As She stood in front of the mirror inside the trial room area, turning slightly to each side, admiring the drape of the saree against her figure. The dark pink hugged her waist like it was made just for her. Her blouse dipped dangerously low at the back.

And then she twirled, the fabric flowing like liquid flame around her.

"You like the saree?" she asked, her voice soft, laced with that innocence she knew drove me mad.

My eyes locked on her reflection.

Without even blinking, I said "I like what's under it."

She stilled mid-spin.

The assistant girl behind her gasped visibly. Her eyes shot toward me like I'd just said something scandalous in a temple.

But I didn't care.

Because my wife laughed a full, red-cheeked laugh trying to hide it behind her palm as she shook her head.

"Raj!" she scolded, flustered but smiling.

I stepped forward, sliding one hand into my pocket, the other brushing against her bare waist. "What? I'm being honest. The saree is beautiful, but what's underneath... that's what kills me every time."

She bit her lip, clearly torn between hiding her face or smacking my arm.

The assistant stood frozen, awkward, unsure if she should stay or run for her life.

I turned to her with a sly smirk. "You done staring, or should I give you a show too?"

She jerked her head down and muttered, ""I-I'll just wait outside, ma'am..." and darted off.

The moment the curtain fell closed again, I stepped even closer.

She was still laughing, trying to look mad, but her cheeks were glowing.

I leaned in, brushing my lips near her ear. "Don't twirl in front of anyone else wearing this saree. I'm warning you."

"Why?" she teased. "You scared someone else will fall in love with me?"

I growled low. "No. I'm scared someone will try and I'll have to remind them you belong to me. With broken bones and blood on my hands".

She gasped, clearly not expecting that intensity, but I saw the flicker of heat in her eyes. She loved it when I got possessive.

I tugged lightly at the pallu and whispered, "Now, either you buy this saree or take it off here and now. Because the longer you stay in it, the more I'm tempted to see what's underneath again."

"We're in public, ," Her breath hitched.



Saanvi's POV

After picking two sarees one in red and one in green for the upcoming Sawan Puja we walked out of the saree collection, my bangles chiming softly as I adjusted my pallu. Raj hand hadn't left my waist the entire time, and I didn't miss how his jaw clenched every time someone even glanced in my direction.

That man may be a ruthless businessman to the world, but with me? He was possessive, jealous, and utterly, shamelessly mine.

I smiled to myself.

Just as we passed a luxury store on the other side of the mall, I paused and said with a dramatic sigh, "Oh God! Aapke liye bhi toh shopping karni thi. Aap jaa rahe ho na ek mahine ke liye business trip par."

He stopped, tilted his head slightly, and gave me one of those unreadable looks. His eyes said more than his mouth ever did.

He just nodded.

We entered the men's collection section sleek, sophisticated, with mannequins wearing designer jackets and shirts.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," a smartly dressed salesman greeted me politely, then glanced at Raj. "Sir," he added with a courteous nod.

I returned his greeting with a soft, warm smile and I knew Raj was watching.

His fingers curled slightly at my waist.

And just to tease him a little more, I turned toward the salesman and said sweetly, "Could you show me some jackets for my husband? He's leaving for a cold place so winter wear, please."

I could literally feel Raj possessiveness rise like the temperature of a pressure cooker. The man was jealous, and I adored every second of it.

As the salesman walked away to fetch some options, I strolled over to the shirts and casually picked one up, holding it against Raj chest.

"What's your size, Raj?" I asked, keeping my voice light.

And he without blinking, without caring that we were in public leaned forward and murmured so close to my ear I shivered.

"Enough to reach deep so deep I'll touch that sweet little belly button from the inside and have you screaming my name all damn night, sweetheart."

"Shut up," I whisper-yelled, eyes wide in shock. My cheeks instantly turned red.

I glanced around, praying no one overheard, but that smirk on his face?

Infuriating.

I glared at him and pushed the shirt into his hands. "Take it and try it. I want to see you in it."

He took the shirt slowly, leaned in, and said again shameless

"Naked? Or with clothes on?"

My mouth dropped open.

"Mr Rajawat, " I gasped, swatting his arm.

He caught my wrist mid-air and pulled me closer, so close that I could feel the heat radiating off him.

"You started it, jaan. Smiling at another man? Teasing me? You know the rules."

"Rules?" I blinked, breath hitching as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

"You're only allowed to make me burn, not anyone else."

I bit my lower lip something I always did when I was nervous and he noticed. Of course he noticed. Raj knew every inch of me.

He leaned in again, voice husky. "And you biting that lip? You know what that does to me. You trying to make me lose control in this damn mall?"

My legs suddenly didn't feel steady. But before I could say anything, the salesman returned, arms full with jackets.

I instantly stepped back, putting distance between me and the man who could wreck me with just his words .

Raj smirked, clearly satisfied with how breathless I'd become.

And then he went to Try the shirt in the trial room

"Jaaaan...."

His voice echoed low and deep from behind the trial room door.

I blinked, standing near the racks, trying to steady my heart that was already racing from the way Raj had been flirting, teasing, and making my knees go weak all through the shopping trip.

I turned, took a few hesitant steps, and whispered just outside the door, "Kya hua?"

The next moment, the door flung open, and before I could process anything he pulled me in.

Click.

The lock slid into place behind me.

My breath caught.

Raj stood there shirtless completely, devastatingly shirtless. The shirt I gave him was tossed somewhere on the bench, forgotten. His abs looked carved, biceps flexed as he towered over me, and that sinful smirk played on his lips.

I didn't even have time to react before he pressed me firmly against the mirror, the cold glass biting into my back while his body caged me in.

"Done playing games, sweetheart? Smiling at that bastard like you forgot who owns you? Keep pushing me... and I'll bend you over the nearest counter, tear that saree off, and remind you exactly what happens when what's mine starts acting like a tease.

Right here. Right now. While he watches."he whispered, lips brushing the shell of my ear.

His voice was possessive low and lethal but still teasing in that maddening Raj way that made heat pool low in my belly.

"I wasn't teasing you..." I whispered, trying to sound innocent, my hands on his chest as I swallowed hard.

His eyes locked with mine through the mirror, dark, intense.

"Really?" he asked with a dry chuckle. "Because I'm pretty damn sure my wife knows what she does to me. And you... you smiled at him. That's enough for me to get pissed."

His hands slowly slid down my waist and gripped my hips firmly.

"And now," he leaned in, lips brushing over my jaw, "you're going to be punished ."

I gasped.

____🦋🦋