Ruhani had never seen Vihaan like this. He had always been soft around her, tender, careful—but these past few days… everything had changed. He made love to her as if she were the air he breathed, as if her very existence was entwined with his own. With Anirudh, it had always been about his pleasure, about his possession, and about control. But with Vihaan, it was different. Now she understood what real lovemaking felt like—consuming, reverent, utterly mutual.

Today he came home from the office early, and as soon as he stepped into the bedroom, he yanked off her saree and had her like a man possessed. The silence that followed was a living thing. Thick, warm, and heavy, it wrapped around them like a cocoon. Vihaan’s weight pressed her to the bed, an anchor of heat and solidity. His breath eased against her neck, slow and deliberate; his heartbeat drummed a steady rhythm against her ribs, grounding her in the here and now.