The honeymoon suite was a sanctuary of lust and longing, its air heavy with the mingling scents of roses and desire. Debasree stood by the full-length mirror, the rich crimson of her sari draped delicately over her transformed frame. The sindoor in her hairline and the mangalsutra resting on her heaving chest were symbols of a woman reborn, no longer tethered to the shadows of her past.
Rohit leaned against the doorway; his eyes dark with unrestrained hunger. His shirt hung open, revealing a chest that radiated power and masculinity. “You’re irresistible,” he said, his voice a deep, molten growl that made her knees tremble.
Her lips parted, breath quickening, as he approached. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, the simple touch igniting a wildfire of need within her. She looked up at him, vulnerable yet bold. “Teach me,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Teach me to be yours.”
Rohit’s grin was wicked as he led her to the bed, his touch now firmer, claiming her inch by inch. His fingers traced the delicate lace of her blouse, sliding it off her shoulders. “You don’t need teaching, Debasree,” he murmured against her ear, his breath hot on her skin. “You were born to be mine.”
The sari fell away, pooling at her feet, leaving her bare save for the jewelry that adorned her—a queen offering herself to her king. His lips followed the trail of his hands, tasting, claiming, as her body arched and shuddered beneath him. She gasped, overwhelmed by sensations she’d never dared to imagine.
“Rohit…” she moaned, her voice breaking as he pulled her closer, their bodies a perfect fit. He moved with deliberate intensity, each thrust a declaration of her womanhood, each caress a reminder of the man she now called her own. She clung to him, her nails raking his back, as wave after wave of ecstasy drowned her in a sea of newfound pleasure.
Their cries echoed into the night, raw and unrestrained. In his arms, she found liberation; in her surrender, she discovered power. Together, they burned brighter than the candles, their passion a flame that would never fade.
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