Page 64 of Claimed By the Maharaja
She stared at the door for a long moment, her heart still racing and her skin damp with sweat.
What the hell happened?
Her wedding night hadn’t gone anything like she had expected. Not even close.
Bharat Jogra had made her gasp, moan, and scream loudly, making her climax thrice.
Oh God.
She pressed her damp palms to her flaming face. She rolled onto her side and looked outside the windows at the moonlit snow-capped mountains. The scent of musk, sweat, and his citrusy pine cologne clung to her skin, but she was too exhausted to shower.
Even as her body continued to hum, her mind spun with thoughts.
Why did he pull out if he wanted heirs?
Was it deliberate? Was it some kind of mind game?
She wasn’t sure, as nothing she predicted about him ever came true.
Even as she tried to think of a reason, exhaustion caught up with her. Her eyes began to droop.
Just as her eyes closed, a thought surfaced through her exhausted mind.
His mouth had been everywhere, on her breasts, her stomach, and also between her legs. But his mouth hadn’t touched her lips.
Bharat Singh Jogra didn’t kiss her.
Cold bastard.
CHAPTER 13
Yamini walked towards the dining room at 9:08.
Her breath hissed out at the soreness that still lingered between her legs despite the hot bath.
She was running late for breakfast. But it wasn’t because she had woken up late.
The palace maids had appeared at her door at sharp seven thirty, efficient and respectful, ready to dress her. But she had thanked them and sent them away. She could have used their help because she was sore. But she didn’t want the Jogra palace staff to see how rattled she was.
So instead, she had taken a long bath by herself in the clawed bathtub and dressed in a beautiful sapphire blue dress that hung in the overly large walk-in closet. She ignored the jewelry and accessories.
She was ready by eight thirty. But knowing Bharat Jogra expected her to be at breakfast at sharp 9:00, she deliberately waited until it was 9:05 before stepping out of the room.
It was 9:08 by the time she reached the breakfast area.
“Maharani,” the guards outside the dining area greeted with a bow before pushing the large double doors open.
Sunlight poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bouncing off snow-covered peaks that stretched endlessly beyond the glass. The view was breathtaking. Calm and serene.
She felt none of those things as she stepped in.
Bharat Jogra was already seated at the long dining table with several breakfast dishes.
He was impeccably dressed in a dark blue shirt and tailored trousers. A smart tablet lay beside his plate, his attention fixed on the screen, his posture straight and composed while he had breakfast.
He didn’t look up.
Not even when she stepped closer, and a palace staff member pulled a chair opposite him.
