Saanvi stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the pleats of her saree when she felt Prithvi’s presence behind her—warm, solid, and entirely too distracting. His hands lazily trailed down her arms before settling at her waist, pulling her back into him.

“Itni doori, Priye? Shaadi ke baad bhi mujhse bhaagne ki aadat nahi gayi tumhari,” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to her ear.

She rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile. ”Aapko lagta hai main bhaag rahi hoon, Rana Sa?"

He turned her around, trapping her between himself and the dresser, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief. ”Aur nahi toh kya? Har baar mujhe ‘Rana Sa’ kehke ek deewar khadi kar deti ho. Kabhi apne pati ka asli naam bhi lo, hmm?"

Saanvi placed her hands on his chest, feigning innocence. ”Par aap toh mere Raja hai, toh Rana Sa kehna toh banta hai na?"

Prithvi clicked his tongue, leaning closer until their noses almost touched. ”Agar main Raja hoon, toh tum meri Rani. Aur mey apni rani ke hothon se sirf ek hi naam sunna chahta hu—Prithvi."

Saanvi bit her lip, her heart pounding at his intense gaze. ”Zid kar rahe ho, aap?"

“Haq jataa raha hoon, Priye,“ he corrected smoothly.

She shook her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. ”Theek hai... Prithvi."

A slow, victorious smirk spread across his lips. ”Ek baar aur, thoda pyaar se.“

Saanvi huffed but leaned up on her toes, brushing her lips softly against his jaw. ”Prithvi..."

His grip on her waist tightened, his voice husky with satisfaction. ”Ab yeh naam sirf tumhari zubaan se sunna chahta hoon, har subah, har raat... aur jab hum bed per… I mean beech mein bhi agar man ho toh chalega."

She gasped, playfully smacking his chest. ”Aap kitne besharam ho!"

He chuckled, catching her hand and pressing a lingering kiss to her palm. ”Sirf tumhare liye, meri Priye."

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