𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧

Bonus 2.2

Riya

"So tonight you're going to see, how do you actually serve your husband," he said and every word from his mouth sounded like I am royally fucked. 

His words hung in the air, heavy and dripping with intent. My breath hitched, and a shiver coursed through me, equal parts anticipation and nerves. His tone was a stark contrast to the tender care I'd grown accustomed to. This was raw, commanding, and utterly irresistible.

Akshat-ji—my ever-gentle, doting husband—had always treated me like porcelain, handling me with the kind of reverence that left no room for anything but sweetness. But tonight, as his dark eyes bore into mine, there was nothing delicate about the way he looked at me.

And God help me, it was everything I'd been craving.

"Do you understand me, baby?" he asked, his voice smooth yet edged with dominance, like velvet over steel.

I swallowed hard, my body betraying me as heat pooled low in my belly. I didn't know how to respond, my mind torn between the comfort of his usual tenderness and the fire he was igniting with just his words.

"I asked you a question." His hand cupped my chin, tilting my face upward until I was forced to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes made my knees weak, and I swayed slightly, gripping the edge of the door for support.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice trembling, unsure if it was from fear, desire, or both.

His lips curved into a wicked smile, the kind that promised I wouldn't forget this night for as long as I lived. "Good. Then let me make this clear—you're mine, and tonight, I'm going to remind you exactly what that means."

Before I could respond, he closed the distance between us in a single stride, his hand sliding around my waist to pull me against him. The sheer force of his presence overwhelmed me, the heat of his body searing through the thin fabric of my saree.

"You've been wanting this, haven't you?" he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "You think I haven't noticed the way you look at me when you think I'm not watching? The way you love when I kiss you holding your neck a little tighter than usual?"

I gasped as his other hand trailed down my side, tracing the delicate curve of my waist. His fingers played with the edge of my saree, his touch teasing, maddeningly slow.

"Tell me," he demanded, his voice dropping an octave. "Tell me what you want, or I'll stop right here."

The thought of him stopping now was unbearable, and my words tumbled out before I could think better of it. "I want you," I admitted, my cheeks burning with both embarrassment and desire. "I want you to take me."

His smile widened, his eyes darkening with satisfaction. "Good girl."

In one swift motion, he lifted me onto the edge of the dresser, his hands firm but careful as they gripped my thighs. The cool wood beneath me was a stark contrast to the heat radiating between us, and I let out a soft gasp as he leaned in, his lips claiming mine in a kiss that was both possessive and intoxicating.

Every move he made was deliberate, as though he was unravelling me piece by piece. His hands worked expertly, unwrapping my saree with agonizing slowness, each inch of exposed skin sending a fresh wave of electricity through me.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against my neck, his voice softer now, though no less commanding. "And tonight, you're all mine."

His words sent my heart racing, and as he continued to explore every inch of me, I realized that this wasn't just about dominance or desire. It was about surrender—mine to him, and his to the moment.