The next morning...
They were still asleep, tangled in each other's arms - clinging tightly, wrapped in a tender embrace like this place was their haven. Like they'd escaped the entire fucking world just to find this peace.
The alarm rang, shattering the silence. Aakash stirred in his sleep, blindly reaching out to shut it. His half-lidded eyes opened as he turned his head - and there she was, sleeping on his chest, utterly at peace. Not a line of tension on her face. He smiled, heart softening.
Golden sunlight filtered through the curtains and kissed her skin. Her face glowed. She stirred slightly, eyelashes fluttering like wings. He was still looking at her hair, unaware that her eyes had already opened.
She looked at him, realizing the truth of the night - they had slept like this, entangled.
His gaze shifted from her hair to her face, only to be met with her eyes. He stared, awestruck, his breath caught in his throat.
They looked at each other for a minute. She blinked slowly.
And then, to his utter surprise, she moved even closer - nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. His heart ran a goddamn marathon in that moment.
"Bas kuch der ke liye, let the contract fuck itself in the corner " she mumbled in her sleepy voice.
(Just for a while, let the contract fuck in some corner.)
He froze. Shocked. His throat went dry. He gulped and looked at her - she was curled into his neck, warm and too close.
"Mrs. Rajput..." he muttered.
"Shhh..." she hushed him. Her lips brushed against his neck, sending chills down his spine.
"Imagine it's a fucking dream, Mr. Rajput," she whispered.
An hour later, Shashi finally stirred. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, stretching - only to find the bed empty. Her brows furrowed. She walked to the closet. Empty. Same with the bathroom. She checked the balcony - nothing.
She slapped her forehead.
"Why the hell did you do that? Fucking hell... maine apni hi kabar khod di."
(I dug my own grave.)
Cursing under her breath, she stormed into the bathroom to shower.
After a long, soothing wash, she stepped out of the glass shower and wrapped herself in a bathrobe. She tied a towel around her hair and walked to the cupboard. Pulling out a white kurta set with a lovely dupatta, she dressed quickly, dried her hair, clipped it up halfway. She checked the time on her phone - 10:30 AM.
"Shit."
She hurried out, heart racing. As she descended the stairs, every step echoed with anxiety. In the living room, everyone sat around, chatting casually.
"Good morning," Sarthak greeted as soon as he noticed her.
"G-good morning, bhai," she replied, voice low.
"Shashi beta, bhook lagi hogi na? Jaao nashta kar lo, tumhara aashiq dining table pe tumhara intezaar kar raha hai."
(Shashi dear, you must be hungry. Go eat breakfast, your lover is waiting at the dining table.)
Aparna teased with a wink.
She slowly walked toward the dining area - and there he was. Sitting at the massive table, alone, face buried in his phone, foot tapping restlessly.
Her payal jingled, and though it caught his attention, he didn't look up. She sat beside him quietly. Without a word, he set his phone aside and served her breakfast. Placing her plate in front of her, he began to serve himself.
"Mr. Rajput," she said in a small voice as she took a bite.
"Hmm," he responded.
"I'm sorry for-" she began, but he cut her off coldly.
"I don't need a sorry. I want compensation," he said, making her freeze.
"W-what compensation?" she asked, heartbeat doubling.
"Room mein chalo, sweetheart... fir batata hoon."
(Come to the room, sweetheart... then I'll tell you.)
He whispered in her ear.
She gave a small nod and ate in silence. When she was done and tried to get up, he held her hand.
"Wait just for a minute, sweetheart."
She sat back, nervous. After a few minutes, he stood, took both plates to the kitchen, and returned.
"Chalo, room mein. Compensation batata hoon," he said huskily.
(Let's go to the room. I'll tell you your compensation.)
She placed her hand in his. They walked upstairs, fingers intertwined. Her heart was thundering in her chest, her mind filled with chaos.
- Overthinker things.
They stood before the door. He opened it - and the moment they stepped inside, he kicked the door shut behind them. His hands found her waist, pulling her to him.
"So... 'let the contract fuck itself in the corner,' huh?" he smirked.
She avoided his eyes.
He pulled her even closer - no space left between them.
"Mrs. Rajput, stop avoiding my eyes," he said, voice sharp with intensity.
His hand caressed her waist slowly. Then suddenly - he pulled the pin of her dupatta, letting it fall. It landed on the couch. She gasped.
"M-Mr..." she began, but he silenced her again with a finger on her lips.
"Shhh... imagine it's a fucking dream, Mrs. Rajput," he whispered - using her own words against her.
His fingers slipped under her kurti through the slit - caressing her bare skin deliberately. She turned crimson.
"Ah..."
"Umm hmm... no," he smirked.
She shut her eyes, lips pressed tight. His fingers traced her back - gentle, teasing - until they reached the curve of her spine.
And then... her bra clasp.
Her eyes shot open.
But what could possibly be hotter than this moment?
His fucking smirk.
He stared right into her soul, shameless. His fingers toyed with the hook of her bra like it was his right.
She glared, but he saw the nervousness - she was terrified. Her throat went dry.
He leaned in, resting his chin on her shoulder, lips grazing the delicate skin. He kissed her shoulder blade, and her eyes fluttered shut again.
He found the mole on her neck and pressed a kiss there.
"I won't be sorry for this, sweetheart," he whispered, his hands still on her waist.
Then, he kissed the soft spot beneath her ear and said:
"Wanna wake up from this dream... or-"
He began tracing kisses along her neck, slow and deep.
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