It wasn't like their wedding—that brief, cold press of lips. This was fire and fury and months of tension finally exploding. His mouth was hot and demanding, one hand tangling in her hair while the other pulled her flush against him.
Advika gasped, and he took advantage, deepening the kiss until she was dizzy with it. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, then slid up to his hair, fingers threading through the dark strands.
He tasted like whiskey—he'd been drinking at the gala, something he rarely did. It made him less controlled, more raw, and God help her, she wanted this. Wanted him.
Sidharth walked her backward until her back hit the door. His mouth left hers to trail hot kisses down her neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, making her whimper.
"Do you have any idea," he growled against her throat, "how hard it's been? Sharing a bed with you, smelling your shampoo, feeling you move in your sleep, and not being able to touch you?"
"Then touch me," Advika breathed, beyond caring about pride or self-preservation. "Touch me."
He groaned, a sound of pure need, and his hands found the zipper of her dress. He pulled it down in one smooth motion, and the emerald silk pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but delicate lace underwear and heels.
"Fuck," he breathed, his eyes raking over her like fire. "You're perfect."
Then his mouth was on hers again, hungry and demanding. His hands mapped her body—her waist, her hips, the curve of her breast through lace. Each touch sent sparks of pleasure racing through her.
Advika's fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin. He helped her, shrugging out of the expensive fabric and tossing it aside. She ran her hands over his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle, the warmth of his skin.
"Sidharth," she gasped as his mouth found her collarbone, her shoulder, the swell of her breast.
"Say it again," he demanded, his voice rough. "Say my name."
"Sidharth."
He lifted her, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and carried her to the bed. The pillow wall was swept aside with one angry motion, forgotten.
He laid her down, his body covering hers, and the weight of him was intoxicating. His hands were everywhere—sliding up herthighs, teasing the edge of her lace panties, skimming over her ribs to cup her breasts through her bra.
"Tell me to stop," he said, even as his fingers unhooked her bra with practiced ease. "Tell me now, Advika, because in another minute, I won't be able to."
"Don't stop," she whispered. "Don't you dare stop."
Something feral flashed in his eyes. He captured her mouth again, swallowing her moans as his hands explored every inch of her skin. When his fingers finally slipped beneath her panties, finding her wet and ready, they both groaned.
"So responsive," he murmured against her lips. "So perfect for me."
He worked her with maddening skill, his fingers moving in circles that had her arching off the bed, desperate for more. When he finally pushed two fingers inside her, she cried out, her nails raking down his back.
"That's it," he encouraged, his voice dark and approving. "Let me hear you. Let me know how I make you feel."
She was close, so close, when he withdrew his hand. She whimpered at the loss, but then he was sliding her panties down her legs, tossing them aside, and settling between her thighs.
His mouth on her was revelation. Advika's back bowed, her hands fisting in his hair as he tasted her with evident pleasure. The scrape of his stubble against her inner thighs, the heat of his tongue, the way he groaned against her like she was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted—it was too much.
She came apart with his name on her lips, waves of pleasure crashing through her.
Before she could catch her breath, Sidharth was kissing his way back up her body. She heard the rustle of fabric as he removed the rest of his clothes, and then he was there, positioned at her entrance.
"Look at me," he commanded. "I want to see your eyes when I make you mine."
Their gazes locked, amber meeting brown, and he pushed inside in one smooth thrust.
Advika gasped, her body stretching to accommodate him. It had been so long—longer than she wanted to admit—and he was bigger than she'd anticipated. But the fullness, the connection, the way he filled every empty space inside her—it was perfect.
"God, Advika," he groaned, his forehead dropping to hers. "You feel incredible."
He started to move, slow at first, letting her adjust. But Advika was done with slow. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his back, and met him thrust for thrust.
