Roohi's POVThe world, the palace walls, the weight of waiting, the ache of all the silent years. It all melted into the warmth of his lips.It wasn’t a kiss of hunger, not yet. It was a kiss of longing—soft, slow, reverent. Like he was tasting every unshed tear, every whispered prayer, every heartbeat I’d saved just for him.The kiss was soft at first—tentative, exploring. Like a question. Like he was asking for permission.I answered with a whimper, my hands sliding up to curl around his neck. He groaned low in his throat, deepening the kiss, his arms circling around my waist and pulling me against him.He groaned softly, his hand slipping around my waist, holding me like he was afraid I’d vanish.I gasped at the contact, my body was arching involuntarily into his. Every nerve was vibrating, every sense overloaded.My dupatta slid from my shoulder, pooling at our feet. I didn’t care. Not when he kissed me like I was the only woman he had ever wanted. Not when his hands tangled in m
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