The room is silver with moonlight, washed in that soft, ethereal glow that makes even stone walls look like they'd been touched by God. Outside, the world is quiet that makes your own breath sound like thunder in your ears. But in that chamber, under the dying sighs of flambeaux flames, the world narrows to skin, breath, and the slow rhythm of two people coming undone.

Samhita buries her face into the mattress, tears of raw pleasure dampening her lips as she groans "Vikram."

Above her, Vikram lowers himself, dark strands of her hair caught in his fingers as he leans near her ear. "You called me?" he breathes, voice husky with control that's close to shattering.

She can't answer. His slow thrusts are stealing every coherent thought, leaving her whimpering as he fills her again and again.

He pulls her up with a growl, upright against him, until they're both on their knees with her back pressed flush to his chest. His length slips out only to push into her once more, making her gasp, clutching at him as his deep strokes find hidden places inside her that set her nerves alight.