The grand dinner had stretched long into the evening filled with rich royal dishes shared glances heavy with promise and quiet conversation that danced around the edges of their growing intimacy. Lord Vikram and Ananya had sat side by side at the long table the servants dismissed early so that only the flicker of oil lamps and the distant sounds of the palace settling for the night remained. Every brush of his fingers against her hand every time her thigh pressed lightly against his beneath the silk tablecloth built the anticipation. By the time the last plate was cleared the air between them crackled with unspoken hunger.

Lord Vikram rose first offering her his arm like the perfect gentleman. "Rest well my lady," he said aloud for any lingering ears but his eyes burned with a darker message. Ananya curtsied gracefully the hidden golden collar warm against her throat beneath the dupatta her body already humming from the memory of the daylight garden pavilion and the way four of his thick fingers had stretched her so relentlessly while the sun illuminated every drop of her milk and arousal.