The bridal suite was a vision of opulence, bathed in the warm glow of jasmine-scented candles. Red and gold drapes framed the bed, which was adorned with rose petals and silk sheets that shimmered in the dim light. The air was thick with anticipation, the faint hum of the city outside a distant whisper through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Kia stood by the bed, her golden lehenga glittering with intricate zari work, the sheer dupatta slipping off her shoulder to reveal the curve of her neck and the swell of her breasts. Her bangles clinked softly as she adjusted her maang tikka, her eyes darting nervously to the door where Kiyan stood.

Kiyan, her new husband, looked commanding in a black sherwani with gold embroidery, the fabric hugging his broad shoulders and toned chest. His dark eyes burned with a possessive hunger as he locked the door behind him, the click echoing in the quiet room. This was their suhagrat, a night of tradition and untamed desire, and Kiyan had every intention of making it unforgettable.