Harshad held shivangi there for a long moment, his body a solid, claiming weight against her back, their harsh breaths the only sound in the room besides the distant, muffled beat of the wedding music. The scent of their sweat and sex hung thick in the air, a potent testament to what had just transpired. Shivangi could feel the frantic hammering of his heart against her spine slowly begin to steady, a rhythm syncing with her own.

Then, with a low groan that vibrated through her, Harshad shifted. His hands, which had been gripping her hips with such fierce possession, gentled, smoothing over the curves he had just so thoroughly worshipped. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the slope of her shoulder, a startling contrast to the animalistic passion of moments before.