The quiet of the haveli was a stark contrast to the storm that had finally settled within her. Rajesh’s weight was a warm, solid anchor beside her, his breathing deep and even in sleep. Durga lay on her back, staring at the ornate patterns on the ceiling, the ghost of his possession still humming through her veins. Her body felt…changed. Not just in the dull, pleasant ache between her thighs, but in the very core of her being. The fear had burned away, leaving behind a curious, simmering ember of something new. Something hers.

She turned her head on the pillow, studying the strong profile of the man she had married. In sleep, the fierce intensity that usually hardened his features had softened. Rajesh was just a man. Her man. The thought, which would have horrified her mere hours ago, now sent a different kind of thrill through her. He had claimed her, yes. Fiercely, completely. But a question, bold and unexpected, bloomed in her mind. What if I claim him?

Her heart began to pound, not with fear, but with a daring she’d never known she possessed. The memory of rajesh touch, the way he had commanded her pleasure, ignited a need to command his. To see the control in his dark eyes shatter and know she was the one who had broken it.

Slowly, careful not to wake him, she shifted. The silk sheet whispered against her skin as she slid it down, baring her body to the cool night air. Moonlight streamed through the window, painting silver tracks over the smooth curve of her hip, the full swell of her breast. Durga saw his gaze on her even in her mind, possessive and hot, and it fueled her courage.

She moved over Rajesh, one leg on either side of his hips, kneeling above him. He stirred then, a low, questioning grunt rumbling in his chest. His eyes flickered open, and the look durga found there was not one of surprise, but of immediate, sharpened interest. Rajesh did not move, simply watched her from beneath heavy lids, a king allowing a subject to approach his throne.

“Durga?” His voice was a sleep-roughened caress. Durga didn’t answer with words. Instead, she placed her hands on his broad chest, her fingers splaying over the hard planes of muscle, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart against her palm. His skin was warm, a furnace banked for the night. Leaning forward, she let her heavy breasts brush against his torso, a deliberate, feather-light drag that made his breath catch. She saw his nostrils flare, his jaw tighten.

Her own desire was a live wire sparking under her skin. Durga positioned herself above rajesh, her hand reaching down to guide him. He was already hard, thick and ready for her. The sight, the feel of him in her hand, sent a jolt of pure power straight to her core. She was wet, aching, her body already pleading for the filling only he could provide.

With a slow, deliberate pressure, durga sank down onto him.

A sharp, gasping breath escaped them both. Durga head fell back as his dick filled her, a perfect, stretching fullness that stole the air from her lungs. For a moment, she simply held still, adjusting to the sensation of him buried so deep inside her, of her controlling the depth, the angle. She looked down, meeting his gaze. His hands, those rough, calloused hands that had commandeered her body so completely, lay fisted at his sides. Rajesh was letting her lead. The sheer power of it was more intoxicating than any wine.

Then, she began to move.

It was a slow, experimental roll of her hips, a tentative rise and fall. Rajesh eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to watch where their bodies joined, to watch Durga take her pleasure from him. A low growl sounded in his throat, a sound of pure, undiluted hunger. Yes, she thought, look at me. See what I can do.

Her confidence grew with every movement. She found a rhythm, a slow, grinding dance that made her breath hitch. She leaned back, bracing her hands on his powerful thighs, arching her back so her breasts were offered up to the moonlight. The new angle was exquisite, hitting a place inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids. A moan, low and wanton, tore from her throat.

“Yes…” Durga breathed, the word a prayer and a command. Rajesh’s control was a taut wire, stretched to its breaking point. She could see the muscle in his jaw clenching, a bead of sweat tracing a path down his temple. His hands twitched, as if fighting the urge to grab her, to take back the reins. But he didn’t. He just watched, his intense gaze devouring every sway of her hips, every tremble of her lip.

She moved faster now, driven by a building urgency, her body taking what it needed from his. Her inner muscles clenched around him, milking him, and she cried out as a shiver of intense pleasure racked her frame. This was different from before. This was hers. Her pace became frantic, desperate. She was chasing her peak, riding him with a wild abandon she didn’t know she possessed.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice a raw, guttural sound that vibrated through her.

Her eyes, glazed with pleasure, snapped to his. The raw, primal need she saw there—the sheer, undisguised want—was her undoing. Her climax crashed over her, a wave so powerful it stole her vision. She screamed, her body convulsing around him, her nails digging into the hard muscle of his thighs as she rode the endless, shattering waves.

Through the haze, she felt his hands finally move. They shot up to grip her hips, his fingers biting into her soft flesh, not to stop her, but to anchor her as his own release took him. With a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, he surged up into her, his hips pumping once, twice, as he spent himself deep within her trembling body.

She collapsed forward onto his chest, her entire being humming, every nerve ending alight. Their sweat-slicked skin pressed together, hearts hammering a frantic, synchronized rhythm. His arms came around her, holding her tightly against him, one hand buried in her hair.

For a long time, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing slowly returning to normal. The air was thick with the scent of their union, salt and sex and power reversed.

Finally, he shifted beneath her. His hand left her hair to cup her chin, tilting her face up to his. His dark eyes, usually so hard and commanding, held a new, unnerving light. A look of stark, stunned admiration.

“Haathi…” he murmured, the nickname—his elephant—a rumble of pure awe against her lips. “My fierce, beautiful Haathi. Where did you learn to ride like that?” A slow, sated smile touched her lips. Durga didn’t know. She only knew the power it gave her. And she knew she would crave it again.

“I didn’t learn it,” Durga whispered, her voice husky. “It was just… you.”

His thumb stroked her jawline, a possessive, tender gesture. “No,” he said, his voice low and certain. “That was all you.” He paused, his gaze intense. “Do it again.”

Durga eyes widened slightly, a new, delicious throb answering his command from deep within her core. She could feel him, still hard, still immense inside her, as if he were forged to fit her perfectly. The night, it seemed, was far from over, and the realization sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. A slow, wicked smile curved her lips as she began to move her hips in a slow, deliberate circle, savoring the way her body gripped him, the way his breath hitched in response.

“Look at you,” Rajesh murmured, his voice rough with admiration. His hands slid up her thighs, gripping her firmly but not pushing, letting her set the pace. “My little queen on her throne.” His words stirred something primal in her, a mix of pride and desire that made her movements bolder. She arched her back, letting her breasts sway with the rhythm, and felt his gaze burn into her like a brand. She was in control now, and the power of that thought made her pulse quicken.

She leaned forward slightly, bracing her hands on rajesh chest, and started to move faster. Her hips rose and fell in a steady, demanding tempo, each thrust drawing a low groan from him. His grip on her tightened, but still, he let her lead, his eyes never leaving hers. She could see the hunger in them, the raw need that mirrored her own, and it only fueled her confidence. “You’re mine,” she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them—bold and true. Rajesh’s lips curved into a smirk, though his breathing was ragged now. “Is that so?” he challenged, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated through her. His hands moved to her waist, guiding her just enough to deepen the angle, making her gasp as he hit a spot that sent sparks ricocheting through her body. “Then show me,” he growled. “Show me how much I’m yours.”

Durga didn’t hesitate. She drove herself down onto him with a force that made them both cry out, her body taking what it needed from his with a ferocity she didn’t know she had. Her nails dug into his chest as she rode him, her hair falling in wild waves around her face. The room seemed to shrink until it was just the two of them, connected in a way that felt almost otherworldly. She could feel the tension coiling in her core again, a storm building just beneath the surface.

Her movements became erratic, frantic, as she chased the edge. Rajesh’s hands tightened on her hips, holding her steady as he thrust up to meet her, their rhythm now perfectly synchronized. “That’s it,” he rasped, his voice thick with praise. “Take what’s yours.” And she did. With a cry that echoed off the walls, she shattered, her body convulsing around him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her. He followed moments later, burying his face in the crook of her neck as his release tore through him with a growl that seemed to shake the very air around them.

When the last tremors subsided, Durga slumped forward against him, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, and she could feel the rapid beating of his heart against hers. For the first time since they had been forced together, she felt something deeper than fear or obligation. Connection. Power. And perhaps, just maybe, the first flicker of something more.