Aakash’s POV

I’m in the kitchen, cooking for my pretty lady who’s still sleeping like a baby. When I woke up this morning and realized I’d fallen asleep on her chest, I discovered it’s the best pillow in the world—and it’s mine alone. Then I looked at her face, so peaceful and serene, and I couldn’t resist kissing her adorable pout.

Today, I have to work out extra because being near my Rosebud is dangerous—her pout is my weakness. So, I decided to make her favorite mac and cheese because she’d told me last night she was craving it.

Even while cooking, the smile on my lips hasn’t faded for a second. My wife… she’s the reason behind it.

I love her—every little thing about her. I remember when I’d stalked her, she didn’t scold me or say anything. Maybe, inside her little head, she was overthinking a lot.

---

Shashi’s POV

The faint aroma of something cheesy and sinful wafted up the stairs, tugging me gently out of sleep like a thread pulling at my senses.

I blinked awake, the blanket still tangled around me, half holding on to his warmth even though he wasn’t beside me anymore. Dragging myself out of bed, I shuffled into the cold bathroom and took a shower.

I slipped into his olive-green angrakha-style suit with golden embroidery. The georgette fabric hugged my curves perfectly. I draped the light, sheer matching dupatta over one shoulder, wore a small bindi on my forehead, and delicate jhumkas on my ears. I left my hair open without any braid or clip, my bangs brushing against my cheeks.

Then I stepped downstairs and stopped short when I saw him in the kitchen—shirtless, muscles shifting under the warm glow of sunlight, back slightly flexed as he stirred the pot. His hair was messy, and that maddening smile played on his lips.

Hormones? Check.

Control yourself, Shashi, I scolded myself. You’re a doctor, a professional, a grown woman who should look at her husband like he’s just a piece of cake, not drool like an idiot.

But I failed miserably. My legs already felt like jelly. I grabbed my dupatta and, putting on my most serious face, draped it over his bare torso.

> “Yeh ang-pradarshan band kijiye, mr. Rajput,” I said, tilting my chin up.

He paused, blinked once, and then that slow, devilish smirk spread across his face.

> “Ohh… toh meri biwi ko shuddh Hindi bhi aati hai?” he teased.

> “Galiyon ke alawa,” he shot back, narrowing his eyes playfully.

> “Ab agar subah-subah itna hot banda dikh jaaye, toh language gadbad ho hi jaati hai,” I added with mischief.

He turned fully toward me, still smirking. Then he took the dupatta and, in one smooth motion, slid it down to my waist, pulling me closer. I gasped as his smirk deepened, sinful and delicious.

> “Is hot bande ko aap bata sakti hain ke aap itna saj sawarke mere dil ko dawat kyu de rhi hai” he murmured.

I looked up at him as he leaned in, closing the distance between us until our lips were barely inches apart.

> “Your breakfast might burn,” I blurted out before he could start anything else.

He turned, quickly stirring the pot, then shut off the stove.

> “Mac and cheese tayyar hai,” he announced, serving it into one plate.

> “Only one plate?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

> “I have something else, jaan. You eat this.”

> “And what will you eat?” I asked suspiciously

> “Your lips,” he said shamelessly.

I slapped his shoulder, and he chuckled.

> “Please, jaan,” he said, looking at me intently.

I looked away, trying to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks.

> “Dekho dekho, Dr. Shashi blushes, too?” he teased.

I bit my lower lip and lowered my gaze. He hooked his finger under my chin, forcing me to look at him, his other hand resting firmly on my waist. He leaned in slowly and pressed his lips to mine, gently at first, then moving his lips more firmly as he sucked on my lower lip.

Once he was satisfied, he grabbed my waist tighter and kissed me hungrily, wild and desperate. After giving me one last peck, he lifted me in his arms, carried me to the dining table, and settled me into a chair.

Author’s POV

After breakfast, Shashi was sitting on the bed, reading a novel, while Aakash lay with his head in her lap. She stroked his hair with her fingers as his face stayed buried in her lap, his hands hugging her waist and drawing lazy circles on her skin.

> “Suney,” he called softly.

> “Hmm?” she replied.

> “Yeh ashleel cheezein padhne ka kya faayda, jab aapka bhola-bhala pati yahin hai? Aur aap us par dhyaan bhi nahi de rahi,” he complained.

She raised an eyebrow.

> “Bhola-bhala? Tum?” she scoffed.

> “Aur nahi toh kya? Tumhare lap mein mooh daal kar baitha hoon main,” he said, his face still buried.

> “Aap waise bhole-bhaale mere pati hain jo mujhe subah se tadpa rahe the,” she retorted, rolling her eyes.

> “Woh meri chinta hai tumhare liye.” he said dramatically.

> “Aapko attention chahiye?” she asked, looking down at him.

He looked up, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous grin.

> “Kam se kam pyaar toh mile,” he nodded.

She kissed his forehead and asked:

> “Toh batao, kya chahiye?”

> “Tum bas mujhse baatein karo,” he said.

> “Kaunsi baatein?” she asked.

> “Tumhare shaukh, tumhare dar, tumhari pasand-naapasand… sab kuch,” he said earnestly.

> “Mere secrets?” she asked, a playful glint in her eyes.

> “Haan, agar tum batana chaho toh,” he replied.

She grew quiet for a moment.

> “Aapko kaise pata chala ke main writer hoon?” she asked, shocked, her eyes widening.

> “Bas pata hai,” he said, shrugging.

> “Hobby thi meri. Kuch logon ne appreciate kiya. Aur mujhe laga ki main bhi kuch likh sakti hoon. Toh bas likhti gayi,” she said softly.

> “Itna chhupa ke kyun rakha, jab aapki books bestsellers hain?” he asked.

> “Let it be a secret, Aakash. Only you—and my very close ones—know this,” she said firmly.

“So it’ll always be a secret?” he asked, smiling.

> “Yes,” she nodded, smiling back

__________________________________

Hey pretty peoples hope you liked the chapter

Please like and comment

And follow me on Instagram I've been uploading many amazing spoilers