The lights were dim. Moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains of Penthouse 484, bathing the room in silver shadows. Siya stood by the window, arms crossed, back straight — waiting.

Reyansh entered quietly, dropping his keys in the bowl by the door. His shirt was half-buttoned, sleeves rolled, hair messy — the way she always liked. But tonight, her eyes didn’t sparkle.

“You’re late,” she said, her voice low, not angry — worse, teasing.

“I had to handle a case,” he explained, walking towards her, “Then took a round downstairs. Safety checks.”

She turned slowly, her silk nightwear slipping off one shoulder. “Safety first, huh?” she murmured, stepping close enough for her perfume to wrap around him. “But what about the fire you started and left burning inside me last night?”

Reyansh swallowed.

“Siya…”

But she didn’t let him finish. Her hand gripped his collar, pulling him down until their lips brushed — soft, then rough. She bit his lower lip, just enough to make him flinch. “Tonight,” she whispered, “I’m not letting you breathe until I’m done.”

And just like that, she pushed him down on the bed — graceful yet commanding. Before he could react, she straddled him, pinning his wrists over his head. His eyes widened.

“Oh, IPS Rathore,” she said sweetly, leaning closer, “This is your punishment for leaving your wife hot and bothered.”

He chuckled breathlessly, completely under her spell now. “And what exactly is the punishment?”

“You’ll see,” she smirked, sliding the strap of her nightdress off her shoulder and whispering in his ear, “Let’s see how long you last, officer.”

Before he could speak again, she leaned closer, letting her lips brush against his jawline. A soft kiss. Then another. Then another — and he lost count. His breath hitched.

“Tonight, Officer Rathore…” she whispered against his neck, “you’re under my custody.”

She kissed him deeply, passionately, and when he tried to sit up — she pushed him down by his chest with surprising strength. His eyes widened.

“Siyaaa…” he chuckled nervously. “Let’s not forget who’s the officer here.”

“Oh, trust me, Reyansh,” she grinned wickedly. “I’m the officer in this room tonight.”

What followed wasn’t wild — it was beautiful chaos. The kind of punishment that left him breathless. She didn’t need ropes or cuffs — her fingers were enough. Her touch was fire, her kisses addictive, her laughter like music echoing in the walls of their quiet penthouse.

He tried to regain control. Once. Twice. Failed both times.

Siya had taken over — and she wasn’t letting go.

When the night finally faded into early morning light, Reyansh lay tangled in the sheets, shirtless, hair messy, and heart full. Siya rested against his chest, humming a soft tune, running her fingers lazily along his jaw.

“That’ll teach you not to walk out on your wife, officer.”

He exhaled a laugh, eyes half-closed. “I surrender.”

She smirked, placing a kiss on his heartbeat.

“Good.”

“Because I’m not done with you yet.”

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