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This chapter contains 16+ scene, mature contain. Read at your risk. If you are not comfortable then don't read it..
Author's POV
The first light of morning filtered gently through the curtains, casting a golden hue across the room. Shivansh had already woken up — not from any sound or movement, but simply because his heart wouldn't let him sleep anymore.
He lay there quietly, head resting against the pillow, watching Isha — the girl who had unknowingly taken over every inch of his world. Her breath was slow and deep, her lashes resting like shadows on her cheeks. She lay curled up beneath the sheets, her hair tousled and cascading across the pillow like a dark waterfall.
Shivansh's gaze softened as he reached out slowly, not to wake her, but just to trace a few strands of hair away from her forehead. His touch was feather-light, reverent, as if he were afraid even his fingers might disturb something sacred.
"How do you look more beautiful when you're not even trying?" he whispered to himself, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
For a while, he just lay there, admiring her in silence — the soft rise and fall of her chest, the faint blush still lingering on her cheeks, the gentle curve of her lips as she dreamed. It wasn't just about how she looked — it was the feeling. That peaceful, full feeling that this was home.
And then, slowly, her eyelashes fluttered.
Isha's eyes opened lazily, trying to make sense of the soft light. For a second, she seemed confused — and then her gaze met his. Instantly, her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink.
He chuckled under his breath.
"Good morning, sleepyhead."
She blinked, then offered him the tiniest smile, her voice husky with sleep. "You're staring."
"I've been staring for the past hours," he said, playfully. "Get used to it."
Isha groaned softly, pulling the sheet up to her chin in mock embarrassment. "Stop it... you're making it worse."
He laughed and leaned closer, brushing his lips against her temple. "You're the one who looks like a dream."
Her heart skipped at the tenderness in his voice.
They lay like that for a few moments — eyes on each other, quiet smiles exchanged, fingers intertwining under the blanket.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked.
She nodded, whispering, "I did. I didn't even realise when I fell asleep."
"You were tired," he murmured, his fingers running gently along her arm. "And beautiful. Still are."
She blushed again, trying to hide her face, which only made him laugh more.
Then, as she tried to sit up slowly, wincing just a little, he immediately shifted, his protective instincts kicking in.
"Easy. You don't have to move if you're not ready," he said gently.
"I just... I need to go to the restroom," she said, still softly, still shy.
Before she could even take the blanket off, he reached over and in one smooth movement, scooped her into his arms.
"Shivansh!" she gasped, clinging to his neck.
"I'm at your service, my queen," he teased, walking across the room as if it were nothing.
She buried her face into his chest, laughing. "You're such a drama king."
He smirked. "And you're still mine."
He gently set her down near the bathroom door. "Take your time. I'll wait."
When she returned, a few minutes later, she looked fresher but still hadn't taken a bath. The minute she stepped out, she saw him — waiting for her while lining on the wall, watching her with that same lazy, amused smile.
Then, with a soft movement, he picked her up again — this time with less teasing, more affection.
Without a word, he walked over and she wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. He leaned into her touch, eyes closing as her presence settled into him like warmth.
He laid her gently on the bed, curling beside her again, wrapping an arm protectively around her waist.
"Should we get up now?" she whispered, her voice uncertain.
"No," he replied simply, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I want this. Just this."
Isha exhaled softly, her forehead resting against his chest. "I do too."
The world outside could wait. For now, the morning belonged to just the two of them — to soft breaths, slow touches, and hearts that finally understood what it felt like to be at peace.
It had been nearly forty minutes since they'd curled back into bed, wrapped in each other's arms, warm under the covers. The room was quiet, the outside world blissfully distant — just the soft hum of the air conditioner and the slow ticking of the clock on the wall.
Isha shifted slightly, her cheek brushing against Shivansh's chest. He was still holding her like she might disappear if he let go.
"Shivansh," she mumbled, almost apologetically.
"Hmm?" he responded, without opening his eyes.
"I think... we should get fresh now. It's been too long. Everyone must be wondering why we disappeared yesterday in the middle of the party."
At that, his eyes opened slowly — not with worry, but mild amusement.
"Wait," she added, sitting up a little, the panic building in her voice, "I didn't say anything to anyone. Did you?"
He blinked at her. "No."
"What do you mean, 'no'?!" she hissed, eyes wide. "You picked me up and brought me here — in front of everyone. People saw. Shivansh, wait I saw you talking to dhruv bhaiyu before you came to me, what did you say to bhaiyu?"
"I didn't say anything!" he defended with a smirk. "He just looked at me, and asked me to solve the fight so, I said we're coming down in some time. Then maa sa call me after sometime to asked me about you than I said that we are not coming down stairs. "
"WHAT?" she gaped. "Maa sa called you? You said we're not coming down? As in—like—just like that?!"
He raised an eyebrow, very calm. "Yeah. Why?"
"Are you mad?! Do you even realise what that sounds like?! Who says that?" she flailed her hands. "It sounds like we're upstairs doing something shady—which we—Shivansh!" She hit him with a pillow. "You told her that?!"
"Relax!" he caught the pillow mid-air. "H
She didn't ask anything. I said it casually—'we'll not be down soon'—and she just said okay. What's the big deal?"
"THE BIG DEAL IS EVERYONE MUST BE THINKING WHY I VANISHED!" she shrieked. "My mom must've thought I fainted or ran off or something!"
He chuckled, completely unbothered. "Well, technically, you did vanish—with me."
"You're impossible." She groaned and threw her hands over her face. "I still can't believe you didn't come up with something better."
"You want me to go back and tell them we had a royal emergency?" he teased.
"Don't even try."
There was a small pause. Then he spoke again, softer. "It's okay, Isha. They probably figured we just wanted a moment. Everyone's an adult. And no one's going to ask anything out loud."
"Yeah, easy for you to say." She huffed, pulling the blanket off her. "You're the shivansh. I'm the girl who disappeared with him."
"And you're my woman," he said firmly. "So, who cares?"
She looked at him, trying to stay annoyed — but his grin, the little tilt of his head, that casual confidence — it was ruining her defense.
"I'm hungry," he said suddenly, switching gears.
"Okay? So go downstairs. I am also hungry. "
"Why should we go all the way there?" he smirked. "There's a kitchen in the living area of our chamber, I'll make something."
"Oh, so now you're going to cook?" she asked, folding her arms.
"Madam, yes. And I need access of you."
"What?"
"Lift up your feet, please." He gently nudged her with his hand. "I need to go impress you with a five-star dish made with three ingredients."
She rolled her eyes, laughing despite herself. "Fine. But if you burn anything, we're going down and you're explaining."
He grinned. "Deal."
And just like that, the chaos faded into comfort again — laughter echoing faintly against the morning light as Shivansh wrapped himself in a robe, kissed her forehead, and made his way to the kitchen... because for once, he didn't want royalty or perfection — just her.
Before she could protest, Shivansh leaned in, wrapped his arms around Isha's waist, and effortlessly lifted her up in his arms.
"Shivansh!" she squealed, hitting his chest lightly. "Put me down!"
"Nope," he grinned, walking confidently through the corridor of their private chamber. "You said you were hungry. I'm handling it like a gentleman."
"You're handling it like a caveman," she mumbled, but her arms instinctively circled his neck.
He pushed the glass door open into the small private kitchen of there chamber, Just beyond the sitting space, a sleek open kitchen sat tucked into the corner — minimalistic yet warm. Light wooden cabinets, a clean marble counter, and brass-finished handles gave it a cozy-modern vibe. The early sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains made everything feel even more golden.
He gently placed her down — not on the floor — but up onto the kitchen counter.
"There. Royal throne for the queen," he said cheekily.
She rolled her eyes but smiled. "Now what?"
He leaned in slightly. "Tell me what you want to eat. Your wish is my command."
"Hmm..." she tapped her chin in a mock though. "You remember that night? In Paris? You made white sauce pasta when we were staying in the apartment alone."
He nodded instantly. "Of course."
"That pasta. And..." she added sweetly, "Cold coffee. With chocolate."
"Got it." He stepped back dramatically like a chef about to begin a masterclass. "Pasta and cold coffee. Coming right up."
She watched as he pulled open the fridge and started collecting things.
For the white sauce pasta, he brought out:
Milk
Fresh cream
Butter
Garlic cloves
Chopped onions
Capsicum, baby corn, and
Grated cheese
Penne pasta from the cupboard
Mixed herbs, oregano, chili flakes
Salt and pepper
"Fancy," Isha commented, kicking her legs playfully from the counter.
"I always keep essentials stocked. I like cooking when no one's around to give me instructions," he teased.
He filled a saucepan with water, added salt and a drop of oil, and set it to boil. Then he tossed in the penne pasta.
Meanwhile, he finely chopped the garlic, threw a dollop of butter onto a heated pan, and let the aroma rise as it sizzled.
"You're good at this," Isha said, clearly impressed.
"You should see me multitask," he winked.
Next, he sautéed the onions, then added the capsicum, baby corn, and mushrooms one by one, carefully timing each so they stayed crunchy. Once the veggies were nearly done, he lowered the flame and added a tablespoon of flour.
"Secret to a smooth sauce," he explained, stirring quickly to avoid lumps.
Then came the milk, cream, a handful of grated cheese, salt, pepper, and herbs. The mixture turned thick and creamy, bubbling gently. The pasta was drained and added into the pan.
Shivansh tossed everything expertly with a wooden spatula, letting the sauce coat every bite. The smell filled the kitchen — creamy, garlicky, delicious.
"And... done," he said proudly.
Isha clapped softly. "Now cold coffee!"
"Madam's wish," he bowed again.
For the cold coffee, he grabbed:
Chilled milk
Instant coffee
Sugar
A scoop of vanilla ice cream
Ice cubes
Chocolate syrup
He drizzled chocolate syrup along the inside of two tall glasses, adding flair. Then he blended the milk, coffee, sugar, ice cream, and ice cubes together until it frothed into a creamy, dreamy swirl.
He poured the mixture in and dropped an extra ice cube in both.
"Would madam like it with a straw or straight from the glass?"
"Straw, please," she said, giggling.
He handed her the cold coffee with one hand and slid the pasta onto a plate with the other.
"For you," he said, standing in front of her, eyes soft now. "Made with love. And way too much cheese."
She took a bite, and her eyes widened.
"Shivansh… this is actually better than the one in Paris."
He looked smug. "Obviously. I wasn't distracted by you sitting there in a shirt this time."
"Shivansh!" she gasped, laughing as she nearly spilled the coffee.
He chuckled and took a sip from his own glass, leaning against the counter beside her.
The kitchen was filled with quiet happiness, clinks of forks against plates, gentle teasing, and the warmth of something more than just food. Something neither of them had a name for yet — but it tasted a lot like love.
He was standing close—too close—between her legs as she sat comfortably on the kitchen counter, munching on pasta. She dipped her fork again and again into the creamy white sauce, feeding herself and then offering him a bite. He leaned in without hesitation, his hand brushing her thigh, the corner of his lips curling as he chewed.
"You're a spoiled brat," she murmured, sipping her cold coffee.
"And you're the one feeding me pasta on a royal counter at ten in the morning," he smirked.
She giggled, trying not to show how much she was enjoying this version of him—Shivansh, the unbothered one, standing barefoot in a kitchen, shirt half unbuttoned, joking and teasing like he belonged nowhere else but here.
Once they were full, he dusted his hands. "Alright, ma'am, let me do the dishes. Sit right there, don't move."
"Mm-hmm," she nodded innocently, swinging her legs.
He turned to the sink still wearing the apron, and began rinsing the dishes, quiet and focused, as the tap poured steadily.
She watched him for a few moments—his back, the lean way he moved, the calm rhythm of his hands under water. Then, quietly, without a sound, she slipped down from the counter. Her cold coffee still lingered on her lips as she padded barefoot across the marble floor.
She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and rested her cheek on his back. "You look good doing dishes," she whispered playfully.
He paused for a second, water still running.
"Oh?" he said with amusement, "Are you trying to seduce me while I'm scrubbing plates?"
She turned slightly, wiggling her fingers, and tickled his side.
"Stop! No, isha, stop it!" he squealed, squirming but laughing.
"You're not even ticklish," she said, mocking disappointment.
"Oh, yeah?"
Before he could react, she scooped some cold water from the tap in her palms and splashed it directly onto his neck and back.
His eyes widened.
"You little—!"
But before he could turn fully, she was already running, her giggle echoing through the corridor. She looked over her shoulder once—big mistake—he was already moving, like a blur.
She forgot for a second that he was Shivansh. Fast. Trained. Powerful.
He caught her just as she reached the doorway of the bedroom, gripping her wrist and spinning her around, her back hitting the wall gently. The breath left her lungs as he pinned her there with both arms, a dangerous smile forming on his lips.
"Throw water at me again," he whispered, voice low, eyes dark.
"I didn't mean to," she whispered, her lips curving into a guilty grin.
"Liar," he said, and kissed her.
It wasn't hurried—it was intense. A slow claim. His hand cradled the side of her face as he deepened the kiss, his other hand pressed against the wall behind her.
She gasped slightly when his lips moved from hers to her jaw, trailing gentle kisses down her neck, then up to her forehead. His breaths are heavier now.
"I can't… I can't get over you," he whispered, his forehead pressing softly against hers. "You're just too much for me."
Her hands clutched the fabric of his shirt, heart thudding in sync with his.
Without a word more, he scooped her up in his arms—her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist—and began walking toward the bed.
"Still mad about the water?" she whispered against his neck.
"Very," he said. "But I'll forgive you. In my own way."
He lowered her slowly onto the bed, brushing the strands of hair away from her face, his eyes never leaving hers.
And in the quiet of that private chamber, with no one calling them downstairs and no noise from the outside world, time felt like it had paused—just for them.
The bed creaked softly beneath them as he dropped her onto the cool sheets, her laughter still echoing from the chase. But it vanished as he climbed up, hovering over her like a dark shadow of desire—his expression unreadable, except for the fire smoldering in his eyes.
Her breath hitched as she tried to sit up, but he gently pressed her shoulders back down, his hands steady, firm.
"Stay," he whispered.
He dipped down, brushing a soft kiss on her forehead. Then one to the tip of her nose. And finally—his lips found hers again, slower this time, as if memorizing every contour, every sign she gave.
When he finally pulled away, she was dazed.
His fingers reached for the topmost button of her shirt. He moved slowly, deliberately, one button at a time. The rhythm is almost reverent. No rush. No haste. Just the quiet tension stretching between them.
Click.
Click.
Click.
With each undone button, more of her skin peeked through. And when the last one came undone, her shirt opened like a secret. She wasn't wearing anything underneath—only his shirt draped over her frame. And now, nothing hid her from him.
He drew in a deep breath, his gaze intense but not lustful—like she was something rare and fragile.
"You take my breath away," he murmured.
She turned her face away, flustered.
But he wasn't having it.
He cupped her chin and brought her gaze back to his. "No hiding."
Then he kissed her again. Not just lips—he kissed her like a path he needed to follow. Her lips. Her jawline. Down to the soft curve of her neck. He lingered there, drawing slow breaths.
His lips trailed to her collarbone, placing a warm kiss there, and then another. He wasn't in a hurry to go further. He wanted her to feel every second of this—the worship in every kiss, the comfort in every touch.
She arched slightly as his lips brushed lower, over the valley of her chest. One hand resting beside her head, the other gliding up her waist under the open shirt, fingers spreading across her skin like he was grounding himself to her presence.
Everything about this was slow. Intentional. Quiet.
The world outside didn't matter. They weren't just touching bodies—they were barring emotions, trust, and a thousand unspoken things neither of them had yet dared to say aloud.
And in that moment, Isha felt it—not just the passion—but the softness underneath it.
She wasn't his conquest. She was calm. His chaos. His everything.
His hands travelled down her legs between her thighs, he can feel the wetness around. His hands brushed over her pussy and she moaned loudly when ge parted her leg and started rubbing her clit. He applied more pressure on his thumb while drawing circles on her clit.
"Aghn anshh" She moaned loudly when he added a finger in her already wet slit. She arched her hip meeting the thrust of his finger. He bent down taking her one of tit in his mouth as much as he could. His fingers were already soaked in her and those wet were now on her body. She moved her hand to hold him when he caught hold of it.
He added one more finger in her pussy, fingering her hardly and she moaned so loudly.
"Ahnnnn anshhh" Giving him peace and satisfaction. He added one more finger stretching her completely and she left out a cry.
"Ohh fuckkk" She cursed out and he removed his fingers when he got to know she was to cum.
"Anshh no don't fucking put it back" She screamed.
"No, not easily jaana. Let me give punishment to you too, you're gonna fucking pay for it and take what i give you like a good girl" He said before getting rid of my track pant's. His dick throbbing to go inside her.
He pointed his tip on her entrance when she grinded herself."Fuckk... you're needy and beautiful" He said and slid his length in her and she moaned loudly.
He pulled himself out and just kept his tip inside and when she relaxed he thrust his whole dick in her pussy and she screamed loudly.
"Ahhhhnnnnmm" She cried out in pleasure when he started moving hardly inside her.
"Ahbnn yesss fuck yes... An... Ansh oh my goddd" She kept moaning as he kept moving in her, pounding hardly and fastly. She scratched his back in her pleasure and he hissed."Ohh fuck keep doing it" He ordered her and bent to kiss her, as his lips crashed on her she scratches more in his back and neck as his thrusts goes deeper and deeper.
He pinned both of her hands above her head and then intertwined his fingers.
He moved down to her body kissing her every inch and came towards her tits which were already covered in his marks because of the last night. He sucked on it harshly and she shrieked out.
"Fuck anshh be slowwwwwww." She yelled and he slapped on her tits she widened her eyes in shock and looked at hi.
"Ohhhhh gooddddd anshh." She moaned loudly when he took his cock out and thrusted deeper into her.
"I'm giving you the pleasure not the god, so fucking moan my name" He hissed out biting on her nipples and she cried as her orgasm took over her but he didn't stop. He was moving on in her but he had slowed down his pace to relax her."ahhhhnnn ha anshh. " She cried again screaming his name as he sucked on her tits again.
"Ohh fuckk yess yess... there ahh ye-h-i_-i" She wasn't able to speak when he started pounding again nearing his own climax.
"You know this is what was going on in my mind since yesterday?" He groaned and she arched her hips meeting his thrust making him fuck her in animalistic speed.
"Was i in your mind when you were attending the function." She asked with pure innocence.
"You are always in my brain, mind, heart, soul, everywhere but suddenly I remember something, didn't I ask you to not wear that backless blouse but you wear the same one and let some other man touch you now. It's punishment time baby. " He thrush deep inside her and fastened his pace and she clutched his shoulders. Her lips crashed on his as she sucked on his lips and he let her do it.
"Ohh fuckk if you go on ahh doing that i -i will come inside... fuckk don't jaana. " He moaned out as she clenched herself squeezing him.
If she keeps doing this he'll come instantly."I needed youu" As she moaned out he started moving again, his pace fastening and she rolled her eyes in pleasure while he licked at her body, her hands were on his back he could feel the little pain and pleasure spreading on his body.
"I love youuu" He said as he was nearing his climax, his thrust deepening and she clenched again.
"I love you too"
"Ahh ohhhh Fu-ahh-ck ahh jaa.. naa- jaaannaaa. " He moaned as he came filling her up and she sighed in pleasure with a little and tiring smile on her face.
"Ohhh" He breathed out before hovering at her again. he wiped the sweat off her face. He was still inside of her.
"I need more" He said not thinking about what she would say.
"And I'm ready to give" Fuck yes that's his girl.
"Be ready then" He said before picking her up in his arms and making her sit on my lap.
"You know what to do, now start" He ordered her and she began riding me"Ohhhh yesssss" She moaned her eyes closed in pleasure, back arched and he bit on her neck gently tugging her skin between his teeth.
"Mmmm yeaahh" She started to ride the way she wanted and how much of pleasure she was getting through it.
After a few more thrusts they were near to their climax again and this time he didn't hesitate before spilling everything inside her. She looked like heaven. Her face covered.
Her face covered with sweat, lips swollen, heavy breaths, her chest moving up and down, eyes closed, body arched and their orgasms dripping from her pussy.
As once they calmed down he picked her up and made her lay on the bed and then hovered upon her.
"Ready for the next round jaana?" And she smirked with what their next round began and went on.
This morning is blissful indeed she made it for him.
"Oh fuck" He groaned as she clenched herself again. He was about to come so he came out and flipped her on her stomach.
" Ahh no more.. Please stop A-ansh. " She moans loudly but he said
"No today I will ruin your ability to stand. And remember don't tease me again I know how you try to seduce me in kitchen. "
"Get all on fours, now" He said and she obeyed. Her ass was full on view with her pussy and he slid his cock again and said "Now start moving, ride and don't stop until i say so" He said and she did, she started moving her hips back and forth while he held her waist.
"Fuck jaana..go... faster" He moaned kissing her back and she did.
"Ahnn" She moaned as she came again and this time he too but he pulled himself out as he was to come and came all over her ass.
She laid down completely while he slumped beside her taking deep breaths.
"Are you satisfied now?" He asked and she tiredly looked at him, " I can't take it anymore." while he chuckled.
"I told you to not tease me. " He said and picked up his shirt to clean her and himself. He pulled her into his arms and pulled the comforter wrapping around us.
The first time had been slow, intense—a confession of their love through every touch, every breath. But now, wrapped in silence, bare under the golden afternoon light filtering through the heavy curtains, there was something different. The second time wasn't just passion—it was hunger. Familiarity. Desire ignited by memory and deepened by longing.
Isha lay fast asleep, her bare skin tangled in the sheets, her body sore and marked with the tenderness of the night before. Shivansh had cleaned her carefully after, and had whispered soft things she didn't remember now. She had dozed off in his arms before he even made it back from the bathroom. He didn't have the heart to disturb her.
He had fallen asleep beside her eventually—drawn into the serenity of her presence—but not for long. He was used to early mornings and light sleep. When he awoke, she was still curled up, her lashes resting against her cheeks, lips slightly parted.
He smiled to himself, brushing a few strands of hair from her face. Then, quietly, he shifted closer and ran his fingers gently along her arm. He wanted to ease the pain he knew she must be feeling—but just as he leaned in to kiss her shoulder, her eyes fluttered open.
Their gazes met. She blinked slowly, and a faint pink crept up her cheeks.
"Morning," he whispered, voice low, teasing. "You look like someone who's pretending that some hours ago we didn't have sex and that didn't happen."
Her face flushed. "Shut up…"
She blinked, trying to wake up fully. Her eyes scanned our tangled, ruined sheets. Her face went crimson.
"Are we... naked?" she asked, blinking up at me with lazy innocence.
He chuckled and pulled her into his arms. "Very."
She stretched her arms for his like a child asking for her favorite toy, and he gave in instantly. Hugging her close, he lifted her into his embrace.
"Ahhh... I can't even move," she whined, burying her face into his neck.
"Oh?" he grinned, brushing his thumb along her cheek. "Come on, sweetheart. It's not like it was your first time anymore."
"Shivansh!" she gasped, scandalized, pulling the sheet higher over herself. "You're shameless."
"And you?" He tilted his head. "You didn't look very shy some hours ago. Especially when you—"
"Don't even finish that sentence," she warned, burying her face into the pillow. Her entire body felt like it was on fire—embarrassment mixed with aches she hadn't expected.
Shivansh chuckled softly, but his tone turned gentle when she winced trying to sit up. "You're sore."
"I can barely move," she admitted, wincing again. "My body feels like… every inch hurts."
"I should have taken better care of you," he said, already sitting up. "Last night, after everything, I was focused on helping you relax. But today, I didn't do my part."
"You did," she whispered.
He shook his head, standing. "Let me draw a bath. And this time, I'll do it properly."
A few minutes later, she heard the sound of water running. Then his voice called out gently, "Isha?"
She looked up to see him standing at the bathroom door, towel slung low around his hips, droplets still clinging to his skin. Her eyes didn't mean to travel down, but they did—and lingered.
He raised a brow. "Done checking me out?"
Her jaw dropped. "I was not—!"
"Mhmm," he smirked. "Come on, jeans. The water's perfect, and I brought the oil you like."
Before she could protest, he had crossed the room and lifted her effortlessly into his arms. She squeaked but didn't resist. Her head rested against his shoulder, warm and safe.
The bathroom was filled with soft light and steam. The tub gleamed, a few drops of lavender oil shimmering on its surface.
He settled onto the edge, placing her gently inside the warm water. She let out a sigh of relief as the heat began to soothe her muscles.
"Better?" he asked, sitting behind her, his legs on either side of hers. She leaned into his chest, her back fitting perfectly against him.
"Much better."
He took the oil and began to massage her shoulders, fingers slow and firm, finding the knots of soreness and easing them with care. His hands slid down her arms, over her back, pausing to press gentle kisses to her neck.
It wasn't lust now. It was intimacy. The kind that comes from knowing someone so deeply that even silence felt like conversation.
"Turn," he murmured. She obeyed, half-lost in the comfort of him. He cupped water in his hands and rinsed her hair, working in shampoo gently. When he washed it out, he placed a towel nearby and picked her up again.
"You'll catch a cold," he said softly, setting her on the marble counter near the sink. He began drying her with the same care he gave everything else about her. Every curve, every scar, every part of her was handled with reverence.
"I could get used to this," she teased, watching his reflection in the mirror.
"You better," he said, meeting her eyes. "Because I'm not stopping."
He dried himself quickly, then tied the towel around his waist. Wrapping another around her body, he picked her up again and carried her toward the dressing room, where soft clothes and softer moments waited.
Shivansh had just finished gently patting her body dry, carefully draping the towel around her like she was something delicate—something rare. And perhaps, she was. His rarest find. A woman who made him feel everything and more. He wrapped a towel around his waist and looked at her, still sitting on the marble counter, her hair slightly wet, cheeks flushed with warmth and softness, and that glint of mischief in her eyes that had grown more frequent these days.
Just as he reached out for the robe to cover her further, he asked in a low, mellow voice, "What do you want to wear? Your clothes... or mine?"
She blinked, pretending to think, before her lips curved into a small smile. "Mine," she said softly. But as he turned to walk toward her wardrobe, her voice called out again, firmer this time, "Wait. Your clothes are mine too, right?"
He stopped in his tracks and turned around, brows raised.
"I want one of your hoodies," she added, her eyes not quite meeting his. "Feeling a bit cold."
Something about that moment shifted. Her voice, her request—it wasn't just about the hoodie. It was a craving for comfort, for closeness, for wearing something that still carried his scent, his warmth. Shivansh didn't reply immediately. He just stood there, taking her in—wrapped in a towel, skin still damp and glowing, eyes fluttering with tenderness. His hoodie on her would be big, maybe too big, but it would look perfect.
Without a word, he opened his wardrobe and pulled out a deep navy blue hoodie—one of his favorites. It still smelled faintly of his cologne. He walked back, and put out a black bra for her and went back to her, knelt in front of her on the counter, and gently helped her slip her arms through the sleeves. It swallowed her, falling below her thighs, covering her completely. The sleeves, comically long, made her chuckle.
She looked up at him, chin resting slightly in the fluffy collar. "Now I feel better."
He smiled softly, brushing back a damp strand of her hair stuck to her cheek. "You look better."
He put on his own clothes next—just grey lounge pants. That's all he needed right now. He didn't bother with a shirt. Not when her eyes were tracing his collarbone again, thinking he wouldn't notice.
Then, without warning, he scooped her into his arms again. Her laugh spilled out, feather-light.
"You'll break my habit," she mumbled into his chest, burying her face as he carried her toward the bedroom again.
But before he could reach the bed, she gently tugged on his shoulder. "Wait… I don't want to sleep again."
He turned, curious. "Hmm?"
"I want to go to the balcony," she said quietly. "I need some fresh air."
He didn't need to ask twice. He adjusted her slightly in his arms and walked straight to the balcony, where a soft breeze was already rustling the sheer curtains. The morning was still young, and the light from the sky was a perfect blend of golden and blue.
He placed her gently on the sofa outside, careful with every movement. She sighed as the air hit her face, her body finally resting against the cushions. He was just about to sit beside her when her voice, playfully accusing, stopped him.
"Just because of you," she said, pointing at him, "I'm not able to walk or even move today."
He tilted his head, playing along. "Oh? Really?"
She narrowed her eyes. "As a punishment… you'll do sit-ups."
He blinked, and then chuckled, a real, full laugh escaping him. "You want me to do sit-ups? Now?"
She folded her arms. "Right now. No excuses. Start."
And he did. No argument, no sarcasm. He dropped to the ground beside the couch and began.
"One…"
"Louder," she said.
"Two…"
"Put some energy," she teased.
"Three… for the love of my life," he said, winking up at her.
Her laughter broke free, but inside… she felt something heavier stir. Guilt. A pinch of it, blooming in her chest. He was doing this without protest, even after everything last night, even though he hadn't slept enough, even though his body probably hurt too. But he'd never say it.
"Okay…" she finally said, interrupting his count. "Stop."
He got up, brushing invisible dust from his pants and sat beside her again.
"You're cruel," he whispered with a smile.
"I'm guilty," she said honestly, looking at his face. "And hungry."
He leaned closer, brushing his lips against her forehead. "You should've started with that."
He stood up and went to the kitchen while she remained curled on the balcony sofa, arms wrapped around her knees, his hoodie oversized and cozy around her.
A few minutes later, he returned with a tray of freshly sliced fruits—mangoes, apples, grapes, and strawberries. There was also a glass of warm water and a napkin folded beside it. Nothing fancy. Just thoughtful. Just him.
He sat beside her and held out a slice of mango near her lips. She smiled as she leaned forward and took it. He wiped the tiny bit of juice that lingered on the corner of her mouth and then took a slice for himself.
She watched him, his fingers, his quiet concentration. "You know you don't have to feed me like this."
"I want to," he said softly.
And in that moment, the world was just the two of them—no families, no expectations, no royal obligations, no ceremonies or secrets—just a girl in her lover's hoodie and a boy with sleepy eyes who had no idea how to stop loving her.
After they finished sharing the fruits, soft smiles still lingering on their lips, Shivansh leaned back against the sofa, pulling her gently along with him. The early afternoon air was cooler than usual, brushing against her bare legs where his hoodie had ridden up. She shifted a little, pressing into his warmth.
"I'm still a little cold," she whispered, curling closer into him.
Without a word, Shivansh stood up, disappeared inside for a moment, and returned with a thick, soft blanket. He wrapped it around both of them, tucking her in first, then pulling it over his shoulders too.
She looked up at him, eyes playful and half-lidded. "Now you're warm."
He chuckled softly, brushing his fingers down her cheek. "I'm always warm when you're with me."
That's when his fingers slowly began tracing the hem of the hoodie she was wearing—his hoodie. One look into her eyes was enough; she didn't stop him. And as he gently lifted it over her head, she let him.
He pulled her onto his lap under the blanket. The warmth of their shared space, the subtle scent of mangoes still lingering on their lips, and the quiet intimacy of the moment slowly melted into something deeper.
When he hands were going to touch her breast but suddenly she said " Hath bout idhar - udhar ja rage h woke. Inhe Kara sambhar me rakhiye. " She stopped him midway, grabbing his hand on her breast and glared at him.
"Are you sore?" Shivansh asked gently, his fingers caressing her hair. She was just wearing one of his hoodies, they are comfy and they smell so good, like him.
"A little" She was thinking honestly the pain wasn't that bad, yea it stings a little now but the sex, it was awesome! I don't know what I was waiting for until now, well it wasn't really me who was waiting. If it were up to me we would be doing it daily. Ok maybe not daily but definitely wouldn't wait this long.
"I think it won't be that painful again like the first time," Shivansh said softly reassuring her. She moved her head from his chest to meet his blue eyes, looking at her in confusion,"what happened?" He asked with a confused look.
"Are we doing it again!?" She asked excitedly, she thinks I'm good now, we can go for the round, and there's no way I'm going home today so there's no issue about sleep.
" Okay, then just one round for now. " He said and kissed her lips and his hand started undoing her bra which was just a string one. He freed her tits which were perking out. He took her nipple into his mouth while holding and twisting another one which was beginning for his attention.
"Anshhhhh" She moaned out loudly clutching his hair when he bit her nipple. He continued with another one and his hand travelled down near her pussy, spreading her thighs more he touched her wet and all damped cunt. His hand sneaked under the edge of the inner thigh, he continued sucking her boobs while rubbing her clit.
"Ohhh fuckkk anshhhhh, ahhh" She moaned as he inserted his finger inside her wet pussy and she arched her hips more.
"Anshhhh.... Ahhh, slow...slow down" she whimed but he got faster.
"Ahhhh Anshhh" She screamed.
"Shhh.. Don't scream jaana someone will hear us. " He said increasing his phase and thrusting deep in her and kissing her lips after sickening her tits. He parted her mouth with my tongue and she moaned into his mouth.
While kissing her he added one finger just to make her feel more pleasurable.
"Ohh fuck" She moaned
"That's dirty words don't suit your pretty mouth jaana" He said and she rocked her hips on his fingers.
"Anshhhhh I'm I'm close ah fuck" She screamed when he got more faster hitting her G-spot. He suddenly removed his fingers and she screamed.
"What the fuck shivansh i was to come" She complained and he lift her with one hand and slipped out of his trousers and boxers and lined his cock near her entrance he pushed his dick inside and she left out a needy cry.
"Fuck you're still tight" He said groaning and she wrapped her legs around his waist and he lift her a little and then he thrust deeper and she moaned more."Anshhh ahhhh... yes.. Oh god" She kept on moaning and he thrusted more and she clenched herself making him groan.
"Anshhh ohh gooddd" and with that she came all over his dick and he let her relax as she came from high but then after a few seconds she took breath he started moving his hips, her cum helping as lubrication.
"Ahhhhhnnnn" She cried as he picked up the pace, he went closer to kiss her, but her eyes trick face because full of pleasure, he satisfyingly smiled and hardly rammed inside her.
Her face covered with sweat, lips swollen, heavy breaths, her chest moving up and down, eyes closed, body arched and their orgasms dripping from her pussy.
As once they calmed down he picked her up and first lay down on the sofa himself and than made her lay on top of him.
Wrapped in the same blanket, their breaths slowly began to steady. Shivansh was lying back on the sofa now, her body still curled up on top of him, both of them glowing in the after-silence that only love could leave behind.
Her voice came first, a quiet mumble against his chest.
"I'm… still cold."
He smiled lazily, pulling the blanket higher over her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. "I know."
She looked up at him sleepily. "Also... I'm too tired now. I'm really tired."
His hand stroked her back gently. "Then sleep. We're not going anywhere."
"Hmm," she hummed. "Can we stay like this… just for a while?"
"As long as you want," he murmured.
And just like that, she closed her eyes on top of him, her fingers still lazily resting on his chest, and her breath falling into a soft rhythm. He held her tighter, blanket cocooning them both on the sofa, while the breeze whispered against the curtains.
Neither of them moved. They slept like that—entangled, silent, warm.
The room was quiet, almost too quiet — like the world was holding its breath.
She stirred suddenly, her lashes fluttering open as a soft breeze danced past the window and brushed against her bare shoulder. For a split second, she didn't remember where she was — her thoughts tangled between dream and memory.
But then… she turned her head up slightly.
There he was.
Shivansh.
Fast asleep, chest rising in a calm, slow rhythm, one arm still protectively wrapped around her waist, the other resting behind his head. His features, usually sharp and commanding, looked softer like this — like peace had finally found a place to settle.
She stared for a second longer.
Admiring.
Breathing him in.
A tiny smile played on her lips — the kind you hide when no one's watching.
But before she could get lost in him again, there was a soft knock.
Thak… thak…
She blinked.
Another knock — slightly louder this time.
Her heart skipped.
No way. Was she still dreaming?
She tilted her head, trying not to move too much, and looked toward the balcony door. No movement. No sound except the knock… and now, a familiar voice calling out.
"Bhaiii!!"
Then another, louder — "Oyeee Shivvv!"
She panicked slightly. Her eyes darted to Shivansh — but his eyes were still closed. Good. Maybe he hadn't heard it. She quickly closed her own eyes again, trying to fake sleep, adjusting her breath as if nothing had disturbed her.
But the moment she shifted slightly, her arm brushing across his chest, his voice came — low, amused, drowsy:
"I know you're awake."
She didn't move.
"I know you were admiring me," he continued, lips curved into a lazy smirk. "But sweetheart, staring at your man while pretending to sleep? Tsk tsk... that's crime."
She scrunched her eyes tighter.
He chuckled softly and flicked the edge of the blanket up, making her squeal. "Fine, I admit it," she mumbled, face still buried. "I was just… looking."
"And?" he raised an eyebrow.
"And you look good while sleeping. Happy?"
Before he could reply with another sarcastic line, another BANG hit the door. This time followed by a proper shout.
"OPEN THE DOOR! We know you're inside, bro!"
"Yeah, don't hide! Open the door or we will come inside.!"
She groaned. "Why the hell they are shouting like that?"
Shivansh let out an annoyed sigh. "That sounds like Dhruv. And that chaotic voice… Aviyansh and you know how they are. "
She was about to get up, but he quickly tightened his hold on her waist.
"Nooo… don't move! Can we not have even ten minutes of peace?" he whined, curling closer under the blanket. "Let them wait. We're still sleeping."
She looked down at him, eyes twinkling. "That's not how it works, ansh. You think they'll stop? We have disappeared since yesterday night they are also thinking about us na!"
She shook her head miserably. "You handle them."
He stood, rolling his shoulders lazily, and grabbed the first thing he could find — his track pant— pulling it over his legs. Then he turned to her, smirking again.
"I'll go shut your idiot devars up. But this isn't over."
As she curled back into the couch, hugging the blanket tightly, she heard the door creak open.
"WHAT?" Shivansh asked flatly, staring at a very energetic Dhruv and a grinning Aviyansh standing outside.
"You took too long!" Dhruv said dramatically. "We were about to send a search party."
"dinner's ready," Aviyansh added. "Everyone's waiting. Including… your highness' in-laws."
Shivansh glared. "You shouted like that in front of everyone?"
"Obviously," Dhruv smirked. "We wanted everyone to know you ditched your responsibilities."
Shivansh shut the door in their faces with a mutter, "Idiots."
He turned back and to balcony to see her poking her head from the blanket.
"Do I have to go now?" she asked with big, innocent eyes.
He sighed deeply and walked over, pulling her up gently from the couch.
"You don't. But if we both disappear, they'll barge in."
She pouted but nodded and he said "But I wanted ten more minutes."
He pulled her closer, tucking a strand of her messy hair behind her ear. And she said "Fine. I'll give you five. And then we go. Together."
And in those five minutes, with the noon sun slipping in through the curtains and the sound of laughter echoing outside their room — they simply held each other.
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