In an extraordinary twist of fate, the soul of a modern-day young woman named Aarna finds itself inexplicably swapped with that of a princess from the 9th century, wedded to none other than the formidable Rajadhiraja Yashwardhan Rao. Yashwardhan fal...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
As I gently placed Aarna on the bed, a wave of disbelief washed over me. 'Is this real?' I wondered. The sight of her, so close and so tangible, felt like a dream—a dream I'd been yearning to live in forever. My heart swelled with an indescribable joy, yet a shadow of doubt crept in. Suddenly, a question burst forth from my lips, "Where is the other Aarna?" I asked, my voice tinged with curiosity and concern.
Her smile faltered, her eyes dimming just a fraction. "Why? She went to the 21st century to her hriday," she replied, her tone laced with a hint of jealousy that she couldn't quite hide.
I couldn't help but chuckle at her response. It was so very her—jealous, possessive, and utterly endearing. Leaning in, I let my nose nuzzle against the soft curve of her neck, inhaling deeply. "Mhmm," I murmured against her skin, the scent of her hair and the warmth of her body intoxicating. "I've missed this so much."
Aarna tilted her neck, granting me more access, her breath hitching in anticipation. I smirked, my lips curling into a mischievous grin. Pressing a teasing, lingering kiss to her neck, I watched as she closed her eyes, biting her lower lip in a futile attempt to suppress the soft gasp that escaped her.
Her eyes fluttered open, meeting mine. The unspoken desire in her gaze was electric, setting my nerves alight. She looked so incredibly beautiful, more than I ever remembered. I leaned in, brushing my lips against her cheek, her skin warm and inviting. Her eyes, filled with longing, implored me for more.
With a slow, deliberate smile, I obliged, kissing her cheek again before trailing wet, slow kisses along her jawline, then down her neck. My mouth found the tender flesh there, and I couldn't resist taking it between my teeth, nibbling gently. She let out a soft gasp, a sound that reverberated through my entire being. I continued my slow assault, savoring every moment, every reaction.
Her top was a vivid red, clinging to her form and accentuating every curve. It was unlike anything I'd encountered before. Below, she wore the tightest, shortest garment imaginable, leaving her slender, shapely thighs bare and tantalizing.
"Dear God," I said, my pulse quickening. "What kind of clothes are you wearing?" I asked, unable to keep the incredulity out of my voice.
Aarna glanced down at herself, then back up at me, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "This upper is called a t-shirt, and this lower means shorts," she explained, her tone casual.
I frowned, my concern growing. "I am not asking their names, love. Don't you think this is too short? Do you always wear such clothes?" My voice held a mixture of bewilderment and worry.
Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. She nodded, a playful glint in her eyes. The casual acceptance of her attire struck me like a thunderbolt. I could feel my jaw clenching, my mind racing with the implications. So many people must have seen her in such clothes, my heart constricting with a possessive anger.
