Chapter 11
Six months after the war, the Singhania empire had never been stronger.
The territories were secure. The family was united under Raghav's rule. The legitimate businesses were thriving. And Akriti's charitable foundation had expanded to three cities, helping hundreds of women rebuild their lives.
Everything was exactly as it should be.
Except for one thing.
Raghav stood in his study, looking at the travel documents his assistant had prepared. A private island resort in the Maldives. Seven days. Complete privacy. No guards, no business, no empire.
Just him and Akriti.
The honeymoon they should have had three years ago.
He found her in the library, reviewing proposals for a new shelter in Pune. She looked up as he entered, her smile immediate and genuine.
"Hey. I thought you had meetings all afternoon."
"I cancelled them." He sat beside her, pulling her onto his lap despite her laughing protest. "We're leaving tomorrow."
"Leaving? For where?"
"The Maldives. Private island. Seven days. Just us." His hand slid up her thigh possessively. "We never had a wedding night. A honeymoon. A beginning that was just about us."
Her eyes widened. "Raghav—"
"Let me give you everything I should have from the beginning," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Let me worship you the way you deserved. Let me show you what our marriage should have been from day one."
Tears filled her eyes. "You already show me every day."
"Not enough. Never enough." He cupped her face, thumbs brushing away the tears. "I want to take you somewhere beautiful. Make love to you under the stars. Wake up with you on a beach. Give you the romance I denied you."
"I don't need—"
"I do." His forehead pressed against hers. "I need to do this. Please, Akriti. Let me give you this."
How could she say no to that?
"Okay," she whispered. "Yes."
His smile was brilliant. "Pack light. You won't need many clothes."
The promise in his voice sent heat flooding through her body.
*
The private jet was luxury itself—leather seats, a bedroom in the back, a full bar, and absolute privacy.
They'd been airborne for less than an hour when Raghav pulled Akriti from her seat, his mouth crashing onto hers with desperate hunger.
"Can't wait," he growled against her lips. "Need you now."
"Raghav, the crew—"
"Are in the cockpit with strict orders not to come back here." His hands were already pushing up her dress, finding the lace of her panties. "And these walls are soundproof."
"Soundproof isn't the same as—oh God—" Her words dissolved into a moan as his fingers found her slick heat.
"Already so wet for me," he approved, his fingers circling her clit. "My perfect wife."
"We're on a plane—"
"We are." He unzipped his pants, freeing his hard length. "Which means we're about to join the mile high club."
Before she could protest further, he was lifting her, positioning her over his cock. She sank down onto him with a gasp, the angle letting him penetrate impossibly deep.
"Fuck," he groaned. "So tight. So perfect."
He set a hard pace, bouncing her on his lap, swallowing her cries with his mouth. His hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, controlling her movements, taking what he wanted.
"Quiet, jaan," he murmured when she got too loud. "Or they'll hear you screaming for me."
He pressed his hand over her mouth, muffling her moans as he thrust up into her relentlessly. The risk of being heard, the forbidden nature of it, the sheer audacity—it all combined to make the pleasure more intense.
She came hard, her body convulsing around him, her scream caught in his palm. He followed seconds later, his hips jerking as he filled her.
They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing hard, bodies joined, completely satisfied.
"That was—" Akriti started.
"Just the beginning," Raghav promised, his eyes dark with promise. "Wait until I get you to the island."
*
They arrived at sunset. The resort was paradise—a private island with a single villa, crystal clear water, white sand beaches, and absolute seclusion.
The villa was stunning. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the ocean. A massive bed draped in white silk. An outdoor shower surrounded by tropical plants. A private infinity pool that seemed to blend into the sea.
"It's perfect," Akriti breathed, walking out onto the deck where waves crashed against the shore.
Raghav came up behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist. "You're perfect. This is just the setting you deserve."
She turned in his arms, looking up at him with eyes full of love. "I don't need all this. I just need you."
"You have me." He kissed her softly. "But tonight, I'm giving you everything. The romance. The worship. The love you should have had from the beginning."
He carried her inside, where rose petals covered the bed, candles flickered on every surface, and soft music played from hidden speakers.
"Raghav—" Her voice caught. "When did you—"
"I had it arranged before we arrived." He set her down gently, his hands going to the zipper of her dress. "Tonight is about you. Your pleasure. Your happiness."
He undressed her slowly, reverently, pressing kisses to each inch of skin as he revealed it. When she stood naked before him, he just looked at her for a long moment.
"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said simply. "And you're mine."
"Yours," she agreed softly.
He lifted her onto the bed, laying her among the rose petals. Then he began his worship.
His mouth traced every curve, every hollow, every sensitive spot. He kissed the scar on her thigh from the accident, the faint marks on her ribs that had healed.
"This is how I should have loved you from day one," he murmured against her skin. "With tenderness. With reverence. With everything I am."
"Raghav—"
"Shh. Let me love you."
His mouth moved lower, between her thighs, and she gasped as his tongue found her most sensitive flesh. He worked her slowly, carefully, building her pleasure with infinite patience.
When she came the first time, it was gentle—waves of pleasure rolling through her body, making her arch off the bed.
But he didn't stop.
He brought her to the edge again and again, until she was trembling and begging, until tears streamed down her face from the intensity of it.
Only then did he enter her, sliding home in one slow, deep stroke.
"Look at me," he ordered gently.
She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze—dark with love and desire and something that looked almost like worship.
"I love you," he said, beginning to move in slow, deep strokes. "More than anything in this world. You're my salvation. My redemption. My everything."
"I love you too," she whispered, her hands framing his face. "So much it hurts."
They made love slowly, tenderly, their eyes locked, their hearts beating in sync. When they came together, it was with tears and whispered declarations and a connection so deep it felt spiritual.
Afterward, he held her close, both of them crying silently—for what they'd lost, for what they'd found, for the love that had survived everything.
"We're really doing this," Akriti whispered. "Having the honeymoon we never got."
"We are." He kissed her forehead. "And I'm making every moment count."
*
Day two dawned bright and perfect. They had breakfast on the deck—fresh fruit, pastries, coffee. Then Raghav grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the beach.
"Where are we going?"
"Swimming." His smile was wicked.
"I don't have a suit—"
"You won't need one."
Understanding dawned. "Raghav, we can't—"
"Private island. No one for miles. Just us and the ocean." He was already pulling off his shirt. "Come on, jaan. Be adventurous with me."
She'd never skinny dipped in her life. But watching him strip completely naked, his body perfect in the sunlight, she found herself wanting to.
She undressed slowly, feeling his eyes on her, heating her skin.
"Beautiful," he said simply. Then he grabbed her hand and led her into the waves.
The water was perfect—warm and clear and absolutely private. They played like children, splashing and laughing, the freedom of it intoxicating.
Then Raghav caught her, pulling her against his body, and the mood shifted.
"I can't get enough of you," he murmured, his hands sliding over her wet skin. "Never will."
He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. The water supported them as he entered her, both of them gasping at the sensation.
Making love in the ocean was different—slower, more sensual. The waves rocked them gently, the sun warmed their skin, salt water added friction and sensation.
"This is incredible," Akriti gasped, her head falling back.
"You're incredible." His mouth found her breast, sucking her nipple as he thrust up into her. "Perfect. Mine."
They came together with the sun on their faces and the ocean around them, pleasure crashing through them like the waves.
Afterward, they floated together, completely satisfied, completely at peace.
"I love this," Akriti said. "Being here with you. No empire. No responsibilities. Just us."
"We should do this more often," Raghav agreed. "Take time away. Remember what we're building this empire for."
"Each other."
"Each other," he confirmed.
*
Night three brought something different. They'd spent the day exploring the island, eating fresh seafood, talking about everything and nothing. As night fell, Raghav led her back to the villa, his eyes dark with intent.
"I want to try something," he said, his voice low. "Something I've been thinking about."
"What?"
Instead of answering, he pulled his belt from his pants, the leather sliding free with a distinctive sound.
Akriti's eyes widened. "Raghav—"
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes."
"Then let me have you. Completely." He gestured to the bed. "On your back. Hands above your head."
Her heart raced, but she obeyed. She trusted him. Completely.
He climbed over her, taking both her wrists in one hand and securing them with his belt to the headboard. Not tight—she could escape if she wanted. But bound. Under his control.
"How does that feel?" he asked.