CHAPTER 49
Either You or Nothing
DEVRAJ
The room is small. Not royal, not grand—just a plain hotel room with cream walls, a single bed covered in crisp white sheets, and a window that overlooks nothing but a stretch of dark highway.
The hum of the air conditioner fills the silence between us, steady and low, but it does nothing to cool the heat in my chest.
It’s been ten minutes. Ten minutes since I shut the door behind us. Ten minutes since we stepped into this room like strangers, even though we’ve been everything but strangers for the last six months.
She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles are white. The gold bangles on her wrists glint under the weak yellow light, but her eyes… they don’t shine the way they used to. They’re swollen, tired. Haunted.
And I can’t find the words.
My throat feels tight, like it’s strangled with all the things I should’ve said earlier. All the things I wanted to scream when I found that letter on her bed, the one soaked in her pain.
I take a breath. Then another. And then I move. Slowly. Like if I make one wrong step, she’ll vanish again.
When I finally kneel down in front of her, her eyes widen. A flash of something—shock, maybe? Relief? I don’t know. But I do know this: I can’t hold this inside any longer.
“I’m sorry,” I begin, my voice lower than a whisper. My hands are resting on my thighs because if I touch her too soon, I might break. “I’m sorry my mother made you feel that way.”
Her lips part like she wants to say something, but nothing comes out. So I keep going, my voice trembling now because I hate this—the distance between us, even when I’m right here.
“I felt something was off that night,” I admit, the truth clawing its way out of me. “I felt it. But I didn’t ask. I thought you were nervous about seeing your father. I thought you needed space, Meher. I thought giving you that would make things easier for you.”
A bitter laugh escapes me, sharp and humorless. “And look where that’s gotten me. To this… to chasing you across cities like a madman because I couldn’t bear another day without you.” I inhale deeply. “I am nothing without you, Meher.”
She shakes her head slowly, and when she finally speaks, her voice is so soft I almost miss it. “You are the king. And you will always—”
“No.” The word slices through the air before she can finish. My pulse kicks hard against my ribs, and I can’t stop now. “No, Meher. Don’t say that. Don’t put me on a pedestal I never asked for.”
I lean forward, my gaze locking on hers, refusing to let her look away.
“I’ve been the king since I was twenty years old.
Twenty. And in all those years, I thought I knew what power was.
What leadership meant. What duty demanded.
” My throat tightens as I take her hand—small, cold, trembling—and wrap it in mine.
“But it’s you. In these six months, it’s you who taught me what a king actually is.
You showed me that power means nothing if you don’t have someone to come home to. ”
Her breath hitches, and her eyes glisten, but I’m not done. I can’t be.
“So no,” I whisper, my thumb brushing over her knuckles. “I’m nothing without you. Nothing. I need you, Meher. Not as the queen. Not for the palace. Not for the name. I need you as my wife. As my heartbeat.”
The words tear out of me before I can stop them. “I love you. I may not speak much, I may not know the right words half the time, but I do love you. I’ve loved you for longer than I even understood, Meher. Every day, every second, even when I was pretending to hold myself back.”
Her tears spill over now, sliding down her cheeks, and I can’t help it. I reach up and wipe them away with my thumb.
“I don’t want the power,” I continue, my voice rough with desperation.
“If the whispers bother you, if the throne feels like chains around your neck, then I’ll give it up.
I don’t want the crown, Meher. But I need you.
Because you didn’t just walk into my life, Rani-sa—you woke it up.
You gave it color. You gave it breath. So understand this… it’s either you or nothing.”
Her sob breaks the silence, raw and sharp, and my heart splinters at the sound.
“You’re… you’re choosing me over everything?” Her voice trembles like a flame in the wind.
I shake my head slowly, my grip on her hand tightening. “No,” I say, and my lips almost curve into a smile because it’s the truest thing I’ve ever said. “You are my everything, Meher.”
That’s when her arms wrap around my neck, sudden and fierce, pulling me into her like she’s trying to erase every inch of space that ever existed between us.
And I don’t hold back—not now, not ever.
I crush her against me, burying my face in her shoulder, breathing her in like a drowning man tasting air for the first time.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers against my skin, her voice breaking. “I felt… scared. You’ve always had your throne, Raja-sa, and I know what power does to men. I just… I wanted to remember only the gentle version of you. I thought you’d get tired of me someday.”
I pull back just enough to look into her eyes, my hands framing her face.
“Impossible,” I say, my voice a vow. “I was tired before you, Meher. Tired of being alone. Tired of empty rooms and heavier crowns. When you left…” My chest tightens, and the words scrape against my throat.
“When you left, I felt like the air left with you.”
A small laugh slips from her, broken but real, and I can’t help but smile through the ache.
“You should have talked to me, Rani-sa,” I murmur, brushing my lips over her temple. “Before taking such a big step. Do you know what would have happened if I hadn’t found you? If I’d lost you for good?”
Her fingers curl into my shoulders, and her voice is small when she asks, “I mean that much to you?”
I chuckle softly, resting my forehead against hers. “You fool,” I whisper, my breath mingling with hers. “Don’t ask the obvious. You have no idea what you mean to me. We’ve only known each other for six months, but it feels like a lifetime—and not even that is enough.”
Her tears glimmer in the dim light, but this time, they’re paired with a smile. A soft, trembling smile that steals the last bit of restraint I had left.
“You said something in the letter,” I say, my voice husky now. “Something I’ve been waiting to hear for far too long. Say it, Meher. Please.”
She cups my cheeks with hands that still shake, her thumbs brushing away the moisture near my eyes. And then, in the gentlest way, she kisses them—first the left, then the right.
“I…” Her whisper trails like a feather over my skin as her lips brush my nose. “Love…” Another kiss, soft and lingering. “You, Devraj”
The words crash through me like a monsoon breaking over parched land. My name from her lips feels like a blessing. My breath stutters—I don’t think, I just pull her in and crush my mouth to hers.
It starts soft—aching, almost tender—but need hits like a storm, ripping through restraint. Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging hard enough to make me groan against her lips. God, this—this taste, this warmth, the rhythm of her heartbeat slamming against mine—it’s all I’ve been starving for.
My palms slide over her back, AND she arches into me like her body has been waiting for this. A soft clink breaks the silence as her bangles slide down her wrists. The sound drives me insane. I trail my mouth to her ear, my voice low, rough. “May I?”
Her breath shudders. “Please,” she whispers.
That single word undoes me. I don’t wait.
My hand cups her breast through the fabric, and I swear under my breath.
I haven’t even seen them yet, and still she’s got me trembling like a damn fool.
My lips find her shoulder as my fingers tug at the dori of her anarkali.
She nods like these clothes are burning her alive—and God, I feel the same.
The strings come undone with one sharp pull. The soft rustle of fabric falling away is enough to make my chest tighten. I take a step back, just to look. My voice is a rasp when it comes out. “You’re not a queen, Rani-sa. You’re a goddess.”
She laughs softly, nervous and bold all at once, and her fingers move to the buttons of my sherwani.
“How desperate are you, Rani-sa?” I smirk.
Her hands freeze, then she tilts her head. “Let’s stop, then.”
I almost lose my damn balance. “Don’t you dare.” My arms are around her before the words are even out, pulling her flush against me. I breathe her in—jasmine and something that’s just her—and my voice breaks as I whisper, “I’m sorry, Meher.”
Her lips curve in a smug smile. “Who’s desperate now, Raja-sa?”
I laugh under my breath, helpless. “Always. Always desperate for you, Rani sa.” I take her hand and kiss her knuckles like the fool I am, because how did I ever think I could live without this?
The last buttons give way, and the sherwani hits the floor.
Her palms skim my chest like she’s mapping every line, every scar, burning them into memory.
When I push her gently back onto the bed, she goes down in a soft fall, hair fanning like spilled ink against the white sheets, and my breath just stops.
She is—everything.
My hands find her breasts, soft, full, and I lean down to taste her, slow at first, just teasing, until her breath catches, until her fingers fist in my hair and that sound—God—that sound tears through me.
Her bra loosens easily, and I press a kiss to the curve of her breast before taking her nipple into my mouth, sucking just enough to make her moan and arch off the bed. My hand grips her hip, feeling her tremble under me, and it sends fire roaring through my veins.
“I need you,” she whispers, broken and beautiful.
That does it. That shatters every last wall.
I strip what’s left between us with shaking hands. When I see her—wet, glistening, ready—I have to close my eyes for a second, because pride and hunger crash so hard I almost lose it. I stroke myself once, hard, groaning low.
“I don’t have a condom,” I manage, voice hoarse.
Her thighs part, slow, deliberate, and her voice is a ragged whisper. “Pull out… just—please, Devraj. I need you.”
Need. Her need. It’s the only command I’ll ever obey.
I line myself against her and push in slow, and her gasp slices the air. My head drops back as the heat of her wraps around me, tight and perfect and mine. “God… so tight,” I groan, almost undone by the first thrust. “So perfect for your Raja-sa.”
She tilts her hips, rotating in a way that makes my vision blur. “Meher…” Her name comes out like a prayer, like a curse. “Can I move?” I murmur against her throat, barely holding on.
Her nails drag down my back. “Please.”
I pull back, then sink into her again, harder this time, and the cry that leaves her lips nearly kills me.
I find a rhythm—slow at first, savoring every gasp, every shiver—until I can’t anymore.
My hips slam against hers, each thrust pulling a moan from her throat, and the sound shreds what’s left of my control.
One hand grips her hip, the other slides up her neck, tilting her head so I can see her face when I whisper, rough and raw, “No crown… no kingdom… will ever feel as right as this. As you.”
Her eyes flutter, a sob-laugh breaking from her lips as I kiss her hard enough to steal her breath.
When I circle her clit with my thumb, her whole body tenses, and then she’s falling apart around me, contracting so tight I nearly lose it.
Her legs shake, her nails dig into my skin, and she cries out my name like it’s the only word she knows.
I tear myself away just in time, groaning as release hits hard, spilling over her stomach and breasts. For a second, I just breathe—ragged, trembling—before grabbing the towel from her suitcase and cleaning her gently, careful, reverent.
When I look up, she’s watching me with that shy, wrecked smile that does things to my chest. I kiss her forehead softly, my voice breaking as I whisper, “I missed you, Meher.”
“I missed you too,” she murmurs, then adds, “Devraj.” I don’t think I will ever get enough of hearing my name from her lips.
“Call me that from now on, Meher,” I plead. She nods.
I finally lay down beside her, her head resting on my chest, “Do you know what you can do to make me smile?” I tease, my voice low, roughened by everything I feel.
She smirks, her fingers trailing lazy patterns over my chest. “Kiss you?”
A laugh rumbles in my chest, soft but real. “No… I mean, yes, that would make me smile. But that’s not it.”
“Then what?” she asks, eyes shimmering in the dim light.
I press my forehead to hers, my voice dropping to a whisper. “You can smile.”
And she does. A smile so soft, so full of love, that it steals the breath right out of me.
Our lips meet again, slow and lingering, as the world outside fades to nothing. Because here, in this small hotel room where all I can sense is the scent of her skin clinging to me, I know the truth I’ll carry till my last breath—
It’s either her or nothing.