Page 245 of Rudra Nandani: The Saga of Control And Seduction

Suddenly, cold droplets tickled my arms and face, and I looked up at the sky, catching glimpses of tree-root-like lightning designs.

Another loud thunderclap sent my heartbeat racing beyond control, and I felt an overwhelming urge to run away.

But my heart told me he was here.

I inhaled a deep breath and tried to look around. It was dark; I could barely see anything. The only moments of visibility camewhen the lightning struck.

I stepped forward. It was a vast terrace bordered by high walls.

During wartime, soldiers would occupy the terrace. But right now, no one was here—our chamber was in the innermost part of the palace, the most secure area, and we were not at war.

Another flash of lightning, and I spotted a sleeping figure.

My throat dried up with fear, and I inhaled deeply, forcing myself to walk toward it. I could hear my wild heartbeat pounding in my ears.

“Rudra,” I called softly, but the figure didn’t move.“Rudra, you’re scaring me. Please,” I said, raising my voice slightly.

He shifted a little.“I don't want to talk,” he replied. Relief washed through me in a wave.

“Why?” I asked.

“My choice,” he said, turning slightly.

I gritted my teeth, blinking into the dark.“It’s pouring. You should come down,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but he gave no reply.

Another bolt of lightning, and I saw him lying on his back, on a carpet, dressed in a dark kurta. He wasn’t listening to me.

I stepped closer, irritation rising.“Rudra, I am talking to you,” I said, louder now.

“Nandani, I’m not talking to you,” he shot back with the same edge.God, his tantrums!

I bit my lower lip, knelt beside him, and hit his midriff lightly with a clenched fist, frustrated.“What do you mean, you're not talking to me? I’m your wife. You will talk to me whenever I want,” I insisted.

He moved my hand away.“Don’t touch me. You’ve already crossed your limit,” he said sharply, and my anger surged.

“What do you mean 'don’t touch me'? You touch me all the time—you kiss me, you have sex with me—and now you say not to touch you? You’re bipolar,” I snapped, and touched him again.

Suddenly, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me beneath him.

A shiver shot down my spine. My angry eyes met his, and his hand gripped tightly around my wrist, making my stomach twist.

“Rudra,” I said, my voice lowering. My tone had shifted from lioness to kitten in a second.

“Leave me, Rudra,” I exclaimed, but his grip tightened.

“You don’t care what I say,” he murmured, voice hoarse.

“And you don’t care what I feel,” I threw back.

Silence settled between us, thick and heavy. Raindrops still poured down, and the wind sent chills racing across my skin.

“Rudra, I think we sh—”

He crashed his lips against mine with sudden, urgent force, making my heart race wildly, my words muffled in his mouth. It wasn’t gentle. It was raw. Intense. Dangerous.

“Shut up,” he muttered. He shifted above me, pinning both my hands above my head with one hand.

I moaned into his mouth as his free hand moved down my body. I instinctively lifted one knee, and he took advantage, slipping his leg between mine.

---