Chapter 27
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The grandfather clock struck somewhere deep in the palace.
Yamini jerked awake.
The laptop slid sideways on her lap, and she grabbed it before it could fall, her heart already hammering before she was fully conscious. She blinked at the screen of a half-edited photograph of the steel plant, the contrast slider pulled too far left, everything grey and washed out.
The digital clock on the nightstand read 12:00.
Midnight.
The lamp on the nightstand was still on. She exhaled slowly and pushed her hair back from her face. She had meant to edit three more photographs and then sleep properly. Her neck ached from the angle at which she had dozed off.
She was about to close the laptop when she heard a familiar sound.
She froze.
The connecting door was opening, the thin line of light appearing beneath it exactly as it had the night before.
Her heart slammed hard.
He came.
She had been so certain he wouldn't.
The door opened fully, and he stepped inside, and this time she didn't think he was a dream.
She was upright against the headboard, the laptop still open on her lap, fully awake and hyper-aware of every detail.
The way he filled the doorway. The way he moved without hesitation, as though her room were simply an extension of his own space.
He walked towards the bed.
He came closer until she could smell that clean citrus-and-pine scent again. Her body remembered it immediately, and heat pooled low in her stomach.
She hated herself for the reaction.
His eyes dropped briefly to the laptop screen, and then, without a word, he picked it up and placed it on the nightstand with the screen facing away.
She stared at him.
She waited for him to say something or look at her. But he didn’t.
He was already reaching for her.
In one smooth move, her thick toweling robe was pushed open.
His eyes swept over her for a long moment, and then his mouth met her skin.
His tongue dragged up the column of her throat in one slow, deliberate swipe as though he was savoring the taste of her skin. The sensation was hot, wet, and lingering.
She moaned, the sound escaping her throat before she could stop it.
She arched beneath him and dug her nails into his bare shoulders. But he didn’t flinch. His teeth grazed her pulse point, sharp enough to sting but not break her skin. She shuddered in pleasure.
His breath was scorching hot against her throat while his hand slid between her legs.
She gasped, her nails digging into his back, bracing herself.
He didn’t speak. Didn’t need to. But the silent command in the way he gripped and then parted her thighs while his mouth moved lower was unmistakable.
She wanted to snap her legs shut, to shield herself from his golden-brown gaze, but her body refused to obey.
She gripped the bedsheets and then his shoulders, telling herself it meant nothing and that her response was purely physical. But the thought disappeared soon, and she lost the ability to think entirely.
He was in complete control. While she lost all of hers.
She climaxed the first time from his mouth. The second time, when he pinned her wrists above her head and took her with deep, near-punishing thrusts while his thumb stroked softly on her wrists.
The third time was when he commanded her, “again.”
She came screaming his name as her body shattered in helpless pleasure.
His golden-brown eyes held hers, watching her come apart.
And then, he pulled away. With a low growl, he came on her quivering dusky stomach.
When he moved back, she felt boneless as she lay shuddering. Once again, he wiped her quivering stomach clean with the tissues and discarded them.
Then he stood.
He was still shockingly aroused. But she watched him putting on his robe, his handsome face appearing completely unaffected.
The clock on the nightstand read 1:17.
He turned away and went towards the connecting door.
At the threshold, he paused.
“Breakfast is at nine,” he said. “Don't be late this time.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
She lay still for exactly three seconds.
Then the words penetrated her pleasure-addled mind.
“You arrogant—” She grabbed the pillow beside her and hurled it at the closed connecting door with everything she had.
It hit with a soft, deeply unsatisfying thud and slid to the floor.
She wanted to throw another pillow, but she was too boneless and exhausted to drum up more energy.
Don't be late this time.
She was beyond annoyed that he had ordered her to be on time for breakfast, as if she were his junior employee who habitually arrived late to morning meetings.
She pressed her palms against her flushed face.
Cold, arrogant, insufferable jerk!
She lay against the pillows, staring at the carved ceiling, furious at herself, furious at him, and furious at her own body for its complete and utter lack of control.
And the worst part was that Bharat Jogra knew exactly how to make her lose control while he remained unaffected.