Rudra Ruhanika: A short story

“You wore this beneath?” he growled, cupping her through the sheer material, his thumbs grazing her already tight peaks. “You wanted me to lose control.” She whimpered, eyes locked with his in the mirror. He kissed down her neck, over her shoulder, murmuring, “Ask me.” She swallowed. “Do you remember the first time you saw me and felt this way?” His gaze softened even as his hands squeezed her hips. “Yes. You were in blue, on the palace terrace, laughing with your hair down... and I remember thinking—I could worship that smile for the rest of my life.” With that, he gripped her hips and thrust—three sharp, deep movements. She moaned, her eyes fluttering half-shut before catching her own pleasure-struck reflection in the mirror. She clutched the mirror frame with one hand, the other resting on his thigh.