Firse title smjh nai aaya🥲
I think I should prefer heated moment between Rana sa and his Rani sa🤭

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Meera stood quietly in the grand hall, feeling the palpable tension in the air. She watched in silence, gulping as she took in the confusion and shock on everyone's faces. It was overwhelming-this family, their reactions, their expectations. She felt small in the midst of such powerful dynamics.

Gathering her courage, Meera moved forward, her heart pounding in her chest. She made her way to Dadi first, bending down to touch her feet, seeking blessings. Rajeshwari placed her hand on Meera's head in a distracted manner, still too caught up in the recent revelations to fully register the moment. "Stay blessed, child," she muttered, before walking away.

Next, Meera approached Amrita and Jaidev. Amrita, still visibly shaken by Tanishka's bombshell revelation, tried to compose herself, but Meera could sense the lingering unease in her eyes.

Even so, Amrita didn't neglect her daughter-in-law. She forced a small smile and asked, "Meera, how are you? Did you get comfortable with the surroundings?"

Meera returned the smile, though she could feel how forced it was on both their parts. "Ji, Maa," she replied, her voice soft but polite. She wished she could say more, something that would feel more natural, but under the weight of everything happening around her, all she could manage was that simple response.

Before the conversation could go any further, Rajeshwari voice cut through the room. "Meera," Dadi said, her tone firm but not unkind, "since you didn't come for breakfast, your first rasoi rasam is still pending." She looked at Meera with expectant eyes, though there was a clear undertone of tradition and duty in her words. "Make something sweet for lunch today. I hope you can handle that."

It wasn't a request-it was a command, laced with the expectation that Meera, as the new bahu, would prove herself in the kitchen. Rajeshwari then left the hall, her footsteps echoing in the suddenly quiet space.

Amrita placed a reassuring hand on Meera's shoulder, offering her a gentle smile. "Don't worry, Meera. You'll do fine," she said softly. But even in her comforting words, Meera could feel the weight of responsibility being passed to her.

Meera nodded, her mind racing as she watched them all leave one by one. The hall, which had been filled with chaos moments ago, was now eerily empty, leaving her standing alone to face the next challenge.

Her first rasoi-her first test as the daughter-in-law of the Rathore family.

Taking a deep breath, Meera composed herself. She would have to handle lunch, prepare something sweet, and meet the expectations of this powerful, traditional family.

She glanced at the kitchen, feeling the weight of both the task and the pressure that came with being a Rathore bahu.

Meera pov

I slipped into the kitchen, my eyes scanning the grand space that stretched far wider than any kitchen I had ever stepped into. The marble countertops gleamed under the soft light, and the variety of spices and ingredients stacked neatly on the shelves called out to me. For a brief moment, I let myself bask in the joy of this little escape.

Focus, Meera. Get this done quickly.

I gathered my ingredients in a rush, my fingers moving faster than my mind could keep up with. My heart was racing, not just from the thrill of cooking in this luxurious kitchen, but from the constant fear of being caught. The last thing I needed was to be seen here-by him

I worked at lightning speed, stirring, chopping, and flipping like my life depended on it. Soon, the aroma of the dishes filled the air, and despite the anxiety twisting in my gut, I couldn't help but smile. I looked down at the perfectly made curries and chapatis and whispered to myself, "Wow, Meera, well done. You're amazing."

I giggled softly, proud of my little accomplishment. But the moment was short-lived. My heart skipped a beat as I heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. My blood ran cold.

No...

He was coming.

Why? Why was he coming here? Panic surged through me as I frantically looked around for a place to hide. Not again, Meera. You can't let him find you here! Without thinking, I ducked down behind the kitchen counter, my knees pressed against the cold floor.

I could hear him approaching, his footsteps slow, deliberate. My breathing quickened as the sound of his voice filled the air-low, commanding. The kind of voice that demanded attention, whether you wanted to give it or not.

He said something, but my mind was too busy racing with thoughts to process his words. My heart thudded painfully in my chest. Meera, You always seem to find yourself in these ridiculous situations, and every time, you make it worse.

I closed my eyes, desperately wishing I could vanish, but I knew that wouldn't happen. His presence was too strong, too magnetic. The kitchen felt smaller just with him in it. I cursed myself silently, biting down on my lip to keep from making a sound. Hide, Meera. Just hide until he leaves.

Why am I here? Why do I keep letting myself get pulled into this-into him? The fear tangled with something else, something that made it hard to turn away.

Every nerve in my body screamed at me to run, to get away before I found myself too far gone. But my feet stayed rooted, my heart racing, caught in the thrill of the moment.

But fate had other plans.

My legs cramped from crouching, and before I could stop myself, I shot up from behind the counter, only to crash directly into his chest. I gasped, my hands flying up to steady myself, but I was already off balance. My heart sank as I felt myself falling, bracing for the hard, unforgiving floor beneath me.

But it never came.

In an instant, his strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me against his body. The sudden warmth of his touch sent a jolt through my body. My breath caught in my throat as his grip tightened, holding me securely. I nearly screamed, my panic taking over for a split second, but the second his hands steadied me, a strange calmness settled over me.

My body reacted on its own, melting into his embrace. It was so familiar, the same soothing sensation I had felt earlier day. His touch-it was overwhelming, yet comforting, like nothing I had ever experienced before. I dared to look up, and when my eyes met his, everything else seemed to disappear.

His dark gaze bore into mine, intense, filled with emotions I couldn't even begin to decipher. There was anger in those eyes-yes-but also something else. Something deeper. My heart raced, and I felt like I was standing on the edge of something dangerous and thrilling at the same time.

Why does he affect me like this? The more he seemed to push me away, the more I found myself drawn to him. Like a moth to a flame, knowing full well I could get burned.

His fingers tightened around my waist, and I felt a sharp intake of breath escape me. The heat of his body radiated through my skin, making it nearly impossible to think straight. I should have moved. I should have pulled away. But I couldn't. I was rooted in place, trapped by the sheer intensity of the moment.

"princess," his voice was low, a quiet reprimand, but laced with something more-a challenge. "This is the one thing you can't seem to manage... staying away."

I shivered, not from fear, but from the way his voice sent tremors through my very core. My throat went dry as I tried to respond, but nothing came out. His grip on me loosened slightly, and for a split second, I thought he was going to let me go.

But then I collided with him again, this time harder, my body pressed flush against his. The tension between us was suffocating. I could feel his heartbeat, fast and erratic, matching the wild rhythm of my own. His hands slid up my back, holding me closer, as if he couldn't help himself. I gasped, my senses overwhelmed by his touch, his scent, the sheer presence of him.

"You should have stayed hidden,kitten" he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. His voice sent a rush of heat through my body, and I clenched my fists, trying to regain some semblance of control. But how could I, when he was right here, so close, his fingers leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched?

Before I could say anything, his eyes locked onto mine again, and for a moment, the world around us ceased to exist. There was a storm brewing in those eyes, a storm I didn't understand. It was almost as if he was fighting himself.

"Rana sa...." I whispered, not even sure what I wanted to say. My voice cracked under the weight of the moment.

He stared at me for what felt like an eternity, his gaze intense and unreadable. And then, without warning, he pulled back-his movements abrupt, almost as if he regretted the closeness. He let me go, harshly, as if trying to rid himself of the tension that had built between us.

I stumbled back, shocked by the sudden coldness after the warmth of his touch. My breath came in short gasps, my heart still racing, but now out of confusion. What had just happened?

Before I could process it, hooting and laughter filled the kitchen. My eyes widened, and I jumped at the sound, completely caught off guard.

Rana saexpression twisted in frustration, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. His jaw tightened, and I could see the storm brewing in his eyes once again.

What just happened? I am scared?

I can't breathe. I'm scared of him, of the way he looks at me, as if he could shatter me without even trying.

I'm scared... scared to my very core. I know he'll destroy me like this, bit by bit, and I can't seem to escape.

What is this feeling? I stood there, my heart still racing from the intense moment with Rana sa. I placed a hand on my chest, trying to calm the erratic thumping of my heart. I don't understand this... My mind was spinning with confusion.

The warmth of his touch still lingered on my skin, and his gaze-so piercing, so unreadable-flashed through my mind. I tried to shake it off, but the sensation stayed, wrapping around me like a second skin.

This has never happened before. Why does he make me feel like this? My fingers absently touched the spot where his hands had held me just minutes ago. It was like an electric current still hummed through my body, and I couldn't name what it was. Should I visit the hospital? Am I sick?

But then the thought hit me. I don't even have enough money to think about a hospital visit right now. I sighed, waving off the idea. Let it be. I'll survive... hopefully.

Just as I was trying to pull myself together, I noticed a group standing in the doorway-Rohan, Aditi, Ishani Bhabhi, and Anjali Bhabhi, all with mischievous smiles plastered on their faces.

My eyes widened. Wait... what's going on? I didn't do anything wrong, right? Why were they all looking at me like that?

Anjali Bhabhi stepped forward, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Bhaisa... Bhabhi sa, continue, continue! We didn't mean to interrupt your little moment," she teased, drawing out the word 'moment' in the most exaggerated way.

My face instantly turned red. What little moment?!

Anjali Bhabhi raised her hands in mock apology. "We just came to say hello to Bhabhi sa, but it seems like we've disturbed something... sorry! Come on, Rohan-let's leave them alone."

But before she could finish, Rana sa, who had been silently fuming, cut her off sharply. His voice was like a low growl. "It's okay," he said, his words clipped. "I came to drink water."

He strode to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water in one swift motion, and downed it in a single gulp. As if that wasn't enough to showcase his frustration, he gave me a hard, pointed glare before storming out into the hallway, the tension still hanging in the air.

I blinked after him, utterly confused. What... was that?

I turned back to Anjali Bhabhi, still trying to figure out why I was suddenly the center of all this teasing, but she just smirked at me. " anjali bhabhi I'm done with the dishes. Only sweet dish and one more dish is left. Can you help me set the table while I make the dessert?" I asked, hoping to shift the focus away from whatever awkwardness had just unfolded.

But, of course, she wasn't going to let me off that easily. Anjali Bhabhi let out an exaggerated gasp, clutching her chest dramatically. "Bhabhisa, do you want me and Ishani to die early?"

I froze. "What?! No, Bhabhi! Why would I want that?" I stammered, confused and alarmed at her sudden theatrics.

Anjali Bhabhi shot me a playful look, her hands on her hips now. "Then stop calling us Bhabhi! You're elder to us in relationship terms because Bhaisa is older. So, stop with the 'Bhabhi' this, 'Bhabhi' that! Unless, of course, you want Lady Mugambo aka dadisa to strike us down!"

I couldn't help it-I giggled. The image of some unseen, angry Lady Mugambo ready to swoop down on us was too ridiculous. Anjali Bhabhi's frustrated expression only made it funnier.

"Okay, Bhabhi... I mean, Anjali," I said, still giggling as I tried to correct myself. Ishani Bhabhi chimed in, "Yes, please! Stop with the 'Bhabhi' title already!"

I laughed, but honestly, it felt so weird to call them by their names. It was like breaking some unspoken rule in my head. But Anjali Bhabhi's exaggerated, pleading eyes were too much to resist. "Alright, alright... Anjali, Ishani, but it's still a little uncomfortable for me," I admitted sheepishly.

"Oh, it's okay. You'll get used to it. If not, I'll send Lady Mugambo after you," Anjali Bhabhi said with a mischievous wink, and I couldn't help but burst out laughing again.

Just then, Rohan and Aditi, who had been watching the whole thing like spectators at a comedy show, decided to make their exit. "Rathore Gang, let's head out before danger comes in and scolds us to the point of exhaustion!" Rohan announced dramatically, raising an imaginary sword in the air.

"Yes, yes! We better leave before we lose all our energy from the scolding," Ishani chimed in, giggling as she looped her arm through Aditi's.

Anjali Bhabhi smirked and glanced at me with a knowing look. "Bhabhi sa, we'll catch up after lunch. We've got lots to talk about." Her mischievous smile only deepened, and I couldn't help but feel a sudden sense of dread.

What does she want to talk about? I smiled nervously and nodded, but my mind was spinning with all the possibilities of what they might bring up later. Something told me it wasn't going to be a normal conversation.

As they all left the kitchen, their laughter and teasing fading down the hallway, I was left standing alone, caught in my own whirlwind of emotions.

First rana sa cold, fiery glares, now Anjali teasing-what had I gotten myself into?

A smile tugged at my lips despite the confusion, and I busied myself with making the sweet dish. My heart still hadn't calmed from everything that had happened, but one thing was clear-things were never going to be boring around here.

I was still in the kitchen, lost in the rhythm of cooking, preparing one more dishes with a quiet focus. The aromas of spices and freshly chopped vegetables filled the air, making the kitchen feel warm and alive. I was in my element, smiling to myself as I plated the next dish, thinking of how everything was coming together.

My heart immediately skipped a beat as I looked up and saw Bua sa-Chandra Rathore-gliding into the kitchen. She was dressed impeccably, as always, her presence commanding the space without her needing to say a word.

Quickly, I wiped my hands on my apron and bent down to touch her feet out of respect. But as I did, her foot landed on my fingers, pinching them sharply beneath her weight.

"Ahh!" I gasped, pulling my hand back instinctively and holding it tight to my chest. The sudden pain throbbed through my fingers, making my eyes water just a little.

Bua sa immediately looked down, her face a picture of surprise-although something in her expression seemed almost too composed. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Meera," she said, her voice soft, but there was an odd undercurrent to it. "It was just a mistake, please forgive me."

I smiled through the pain, still clutching my fingers. "It's okay, Bua sa, these things happen," I said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. But her smile... her smile didn't match her words. There was something unsettling in the way her lips curved, as though she knew exactly what she was doing but wouldn't admit it.

She glanced at the array of dishes I had been preparing, her eyes scanning the spread with an almost imperceptible arch of her brow. "You've been working hard, I see," she commented, her tone light, but there was something in the way she said it that made me feel like I had missed a hidden meaning.

Then, her eyes flicked over to me, sharp and calculating. "Tell me, Meera," she said, her voice lowering ever so slightly, "do you think you'll be able to keep up with this family? With everything that comes with being a Rathore?"

Her question hung in the air, heavy and mysterious. I blinked, unsure of how to respond. What did she mean by that? Was it a genuine question, or was she testing me? I could feel her gaze burning into me, waiting for my response.

But I didn't have an answer. Not one that would satisfy her, at least. My lips parted, but no words came out. I wasn't sure what she wanted me to say. Keep up with this family? I already felt like I was running a race where I didn't know the finish line, where every move I made was being silently judged.

All I could manage was a soft, "Yes, Bua sa," though it came out more like a question than a statement. She smiled again-this time, it felt even more like a mask.

"Hmm... interesting," she said, her eyes narrowing just a touch. "Well, Meera, let's see how long you can maintain this... enthusiasm." Her words were laced with something unspoken, something that made me feel small under her scrutiny. "Just remember," she added softly, her voice almost too sweet, "this household can be... demanding."

I nodded, not daring to say anything else. My fingers still throbbed, and now my mind was spinning too. What was she trying to tell me? I couldn't make sense of it.

Bua sa moved closer to the counter, eyeing the dishes I had prepared with a slow, deliberate gaze. She reached out, her long fingers brushing over the rim of one of the bowls, as if testing the quality of my work with just a touch. "For Rana sa, you'll need something special," she said, her tone suddenly businesslike but still holding that mysterious edge. "Make sure you prepare his thal correctly."

I forced a smile and nodded again. "Yes, Bua sa. I'll start on it right away."

She lingered for a moment longer, watching me closely, before finally turning on her heel and leaving the kitchen. As soon as she was gone, I exhaled deeply, as if I'd been holding my breath the entire time.

I stood there, my hand still aching from the earlier incident, but the pain in my fingers wasn't the only thing bothering me now. Bua sa's words echoed in my head, each one dripping with something I couldn't quite grasp.

Do you think you'll be able to keep up?

Let's see how long you can maintain this... enthusiasm.

It felt like a warning. Or worse, a challenge. But why? What had I done to earn this strange scrutiny from her?

Shaking my head, I tried to focus on the task at hand. I couldn't let her get to me. I had work to do. I started preparing Rana sa's special thal, concentrating on each detail, hoping that I could at least get this right.

But no matter how hard I tried, the strange tension Bua sa had left behind lingered in the air, making it hard to think about anything else.

As the family settled around the grand dining table for lunch, Meera worked diligently in the kitchen, her head low as she stirred the simmering pot of sweet dish. She was hoping to stay out of Yudhveer's sight, afraid of provoking more of his scolding if she joined the lunch. She purposely delayed her cooking, despite Pratap's attempts to call her out, as he found it hard to watch her working alone in the kitchen. However, traditions were traditions, and Meera chose not to disrupt them.

At the dining table, while the younger family members enjoyed their food with carefree laughter, a shadow of worry hung over the elders. The recent tension with Aryan and Ishani left an unspoken heaviness. Amrita looked up, breaking the silence, and said, "I'll go call Tanishka. We don't even know if she's eaten or not."

Rajeshwari shot her a cautionary look, her voice laced with sternness. "Didn't you hear what your youngest son said? No one is allowed to enter his room. Do you want to stir up more drama, Amrita? You know well how Aryan gets when crossed."

Amrita shook her head with gentle defiance. "I'll handle him, Maa sa. But that doesn't mean we leave her alone to starve while we sit here eating." With that, she got up and walked towards Tanishka's room, determined to check on her.

Back at the dining table, Rohan grinned and looked over to meera, saying, "Bhabhi sa, can you make lunch every day, please? This is amazing!"

"But Yudhveer's glaring eyes made him fall silent."

The sudden coldness silenced Rohan, who sheepishly looked down, and Ranvijay hid a smirk at Yudhveer's unyielding demeanor. The atmosphere lightened, though, when Yudhveer's phone rang, breaking the tension. He picked up, speaking to Viraj, his driver. "No, I want the best bed from our collection. Make sure it's white, and have it delivered in the evening. Change the entire bed, no excuses."

As he hung up, he noticed his family staring at him, eyes wide with surprise. Ranvijay leaned back with a mischievous grin and remarked, "Looks like someone already tested the bed's durability, hmm? Breaking in the new furniture, Yudhveer?"

Nandini chuckled, nudging him, "Well, at least one ceremony is complete!"

Before Rohan could open his mouth to join in the teasing, he caught Yudhveer's frosty glare. Everyone burst into laughter, seeing Rohan's terrified expression and Yudhveer's red face. They couldn't tell if his cheeks were flushed from embarrassment or anger, but the faint pink hue only spurred more laughter.

Yudhveer closed his eyes, murmuring something under his breath, trying to maintain his composure. Rajeshwari's stern voice cut through the chatter, quieting the table instantly, though traces of their amusement lingered in the air.

As Yudhveer prepared to leave for an important meeting at the company, Rajeshwari stopped him, her voice carrying a tone of unwavering authority. "Yudhveer, since the marriage ceremonies didn't go as they should have, and Meera hasn't even had her griha pravesh, it's considered abshagun. I want both of you to go to the temple together tomorrow and perform a puja."

Yudhveer sighed, his expression impatient. "I don't have time for these unnecessary things, Dadisa. Just send her alone."

Rajeshwari's eyes hardened, and her voice turned steely. "What do you mean by 'unnecessary'? Let me make something clear to you, Yudhveer. You are going to the temple, and that's final."

Yudhveer held her gaze for a moment, considering her words. Then, with a smirk, he nodded. "Alright, Dadisa. If that's what you want, I'll go." Without another word, he turned and strode out of the mansion.

Meanwhile, Meera stepped out of the kitchen, carefully balancing a tray with the sweet dish she had prepared. As she entered the hallway, she caught a glimpse of Yudhveer's retreating figure, her heart sinking slightly. She quickly masked her disappointment, reminding herself to remain composed.

Carrying the tray to the dining area, she set it down with a gentle smile and invited everyone to taste her dish. One by one, the family members took a bite, their expressions lighting up with approval and delight.

'This is good,' Rajeshwari said in a slightly icy tone." with a rare, warm smile, handing her a small velvet pouch as a gift for her pehli rasoi. Ranvijay handed her a neatly wrapped box with a wink, while Amrita placed a delicate gold bangle in her hand, squeezing it gently. Nandini, too, praised her with a kind smile and gift her.

Each member offered a thoughtful gift, and Meera accepted them with quiet gratitude, feeling a glimmer of acceptance. Although her heart still longed for Yudhveer's approval, she managed to keep her emotions hidden, focusing on the warmth from the rest of the family.

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Amrita made her way toward Aryan's room, her mind set on checking in on Tanishka. But as she approached, she stopped in her tracks, startled to see two bodyguards stationed outside the door. This was unusual-even in their strict household, no one had ever guarded a family member's room before. Frowning, she took a deep breath and stepped forward, only to be halted by the guards.

"I need to go inside," she said firmly, her voice laced with authority.

One of the bodyguards stepped forward, his posture respectful but unyielding. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Sir has given strict orders that no one is allowed to enter."

Amrita raised an eyebrow, her frustration evident. "Do you even know who you're stopping? I'm Aryan's mother. Step aside."

The guard lowered his gaze respectfully but held his ground. "We apologize, ma'am, but our instructions come directly from Sir. We can't disobey his orders."

Amrita clenched her jaw, a hint of irritation crossing her face as she closed her eyes briefly, gathering her thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she leaned slightly toward the guards. "Fine," she said, her voice calm but edged with resolve.

With that, she turned and walked away, her expression a mix of worry and determination.

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Anjali sat quietly in her room, nestled into the corner of her sofa, completely absorbed in the steamy novel in her hands. Her fingers traced over the words as her cheeks flushed with a deep crimson. The story wasn't just romantic-it was electric, each line sparking with tension that sent tingles through her. She bit her lip, heart pounding as her eyes skimmed over a particularly heated scene. She felt a guilty thrill reading it, her mind drifting into the world of forbidden, passionate encounters that had her cheeks burning and her body tingling.

Ranvijay happened to walk by, noticing the rare stillness in her usually lively figure. Curious, he paused at the doorway, only to be greeted by the sight of her blush and the intense look in her eyes. His smirk grew as he leaned closer, catching a glimpse of the book's pages-and the unmistakable effect it was having on her. His mischievousness got the better of him as he slipped behind her without making a sound.

Just when her cheeks couldn't get any redder, his low, teasing voice broke the silence. "Blushing over another man, hmm?"

Anjali jumped, nearly dropping the book. She whipped around to find Ranvijay standing over her, his eyes dark and full of amusement. She clutched the novel to her chest, as if that could hide her embarrassment. "R-Ranvijay!" she stammered, her cheeks flaming. "It's... just a book!"

But Ranvijay's smirk widened as he moved closer, his gaze dropping pointedly to the book in her lap. "Oh, I don't doubt that. But what kind of book exactly?" he asked, his voice a soft, taunting purr. He took a seat beside her, leaning in close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath on her ear. "Let me guess... something like, 'How many inches do you want, sweetheart? Just say the word, and I'll give you... every single one.'"

Her heart raced as she realized he was quoting the line she'd just read, the suggestive tone in his voice making her squirm. She hid her face in her hands, unable to look at him. "Ranvijay! Stop it!"

But he chuckled darkly, gently pulling her hands away, his fingers firm but warm around her wrists. "Why should I stop?" he murmured, his lips just a breath away from her skin. "You're reading all this... smut," he said, a wicked gleam in his eyes, "but the only man who's going to make you feel it is me."

He let go of one wrist and traced his fingers slowly down her arm, his touch leaving a trail of fire. Anjali's breath hitched as he leaned in closer, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin just beneath her ear. "Why get lost in some fantasy when I'm right here, hmm?" he whispered, his voice a dark promise. "All you have to do is ask, and I'll make sure every word of yours comes true."

Anjali's protests melted away as his lips found the side of her neck, her body betraying her as her heartbeat quickened. The warmth pooling in her cheeks was nothing compared to the heat building elsewhere. She tried to push him away half-heartedly, but he held her close, his hands gentle yet possessive.

"You were blushing over a book," he teased softly, his breath warm on her skin. "But books can't make you feel like this." His fingers brushed along her collarbone, each touch sending a shiver down her spine. "So tell me, how many inches do you really want, Anjali?"

Her eyes widened, her body responding to the low, husky tone of his voice. "R-Ranvijay," she breathed, a mix of embarrassment and thrill in her voice.

"Yes, sweetheart?" His lips brushed her ear, the teasing tone in his voice making her shiver. He leaned back just enough to look into her eyes, a spark of mischief mixed with something deeper, something possessive. "Don't look so shocked... You wanted passion, didn't you?"

Anjali couldn't look away, lost in the intensity of his gaze as he held her face gently in his hands. His thumb traced along her cheek as he continued, Just say.

Ranvijay's fingers traced the edge of Anjali's collarbone, his lips following the path in soft, tantalizing kisses. She was lost in his touch, her breaths shallow and uneven as his mouth lingered, pressing just firmly enough to make her pulse race. His fingers slid down her arm, slow and deliberate, before slipping beneath the soft fabric of her saree, his hand moving with a confidence that sent a thrill through her. When he squeezed her inner thigh, a gasp escaped her, her body reacting instinctively to the possessiveness of his touch.

"Already wet for me, hmm?" he murmured against her skin, his voice a mix of raw desire and jealousy that made her tremble. "Let me make you such a mess, Anjali," he growled softly, his voice thick with a possessive edge. "I don't want you blushing for anyone but me."

The intensity in his tone left her breathless, her mind clouded as his fingers began to explore her, each movement calculated to pull her deeper into his hold. She tried to speak, to say something, but the words died on her lips as he tightened his grip, pulling her closer, his body pressing against hers in a way that left no space between them.

He tilted her face toward him, his dark eyes smoldering as they met hers. "You're mine, Anjali," he whispered, his voice low and fierce. "Every blush, every shiver, every single inch of you."

His lips claimed hers again, but this time, the kiss was anything but gentle. It was consuming, fierce, and demanding. His hands roamed, staking his claim, as he deepened the kiss, leaving her breathless and craving more. The world outside vanished as he continued to explore every inch of her, making sure she felt the heat of his possessive desire. And in that moment, she was his, entirely and completely, lost in the intensity of his love and jealousy.

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