💖 Ishita's Perspective

I felt my breath hitch as I pulled back the lid of the velvet box. Inside, it wasn't just one pair, but an entire collection of the jewelry I had been obsessing over. There were those heavy, traditional earrings with the intricate gold work and emerald drops that I'd shown Ru a photo of on Valentine's Day, along with several pairs of those trending *ghungroo* bangles I wanted for my next photoshoot.

A small smile finally broke through my anger. He had remembered. Even when I was convinced he was buried in his spreadsheets, he had been listening to my random chatter.

Tucked between the jingling bangles was a small, cream-colored note. I picked it up, my heart racing.

> **"If the Queen is done complaining to her mother, she might find something more interesting in the ladies' garden. Come alone, Janna."**

I bit my lip to hide a grin, feeling that familiar warmth spread through my chest. "Besharam," I whispered to the empty air, though my feet were already moving. I quickly adjusted my rose-gold saree, gave Oscar a quick pat on the head, and hurried toward the secluded ladies' garden-a part of the palace where the men rarely ventured.

The path was lined with flickering lanterns despite it being early evening. As I turned the corner into the garden, the scent of fresh jasmine hit me.

👑 Rudra's Perspective

I stood hidden behind the marble archway, watching her approach. She looked like a vision in that rose-gold silk, her eyes scanning the garden with a mix of curiosity and that lingering "I'm still mad at you" pout.

I had spent the last three hours ensuring every detail was perfect. This wasn't just about a birthday; it was about showing her that even as business man " I was completely under her spell.

"You're late, Ishi," I said, stepping out from the shadows.

She jumped slightly, her hand going to her heart as she looked at me. "Aap? Aap toh office mein the? London merger? Tax delays?"

"The London merger can wait," I murmured, walking toward her until I was close enough to see the sparkle of the new earrings she had already put on. I reached out, my fingers grazing the gold *ghungroos* hanging from her ears, making them chime softly. "I told you this morning I didn't think there was anything special today. I lied. There's nothing more special to me than the day you were born."

I saw her eyes soften, the anger melting away, but she still crossed her arms stubbornly. "Toh pura din mujhse baat kyun nahi ki? Maine kitna roya aapko pata hai?"

"Because," I leaned down, whispering against her ear, "the 'Rudra' form needs a little fire before the peace sets in. Now, stop being a brat and look behind you."

The garden lights suddenly flared brighter, revealing a table set for two, surrounded by thousands of white jasmines-her favorite-and a giant portrait of the two of us from our wedding day.

"Ru..." she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

"Happy Birthday, Janna," I said, pulling her into my arms. "In this life, and every life after, you are the only wish I'll ever need."

💖 Ishita's Perspective

I looked at him, my heart doing a somersault even as I tried to keep my face stern. "I hate you!" I burst out, though the tears in my eyes weren't from sadness anymore.

Ru just smirked, that arrogant, heart-melting look he only gives me. "And I love you... a lot," he replied, his voice dropping into that deep, possessive tone.

I let out a frustrated whine, stomped my gold-strapped heel on the garden grass, and then couldn't hold back anymore. I ran to him, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, burying my face in the crook of his navy blue kurta. "Socha tha bohot ladai karungi par aap kabhi mauka hi nahi dete," I mumbled against his shoulder.

He chuckled, his large hands grounding me as he pulled me closer. "That's the plan, Janna."

But our private moment was short-lived.

"Oye! Romance baad mein, pehle humein cake chahiye!" **Jay's** loud voice echoed through the garden as he, **Ahana**, **Akshat**, **Vardaan**, and the rest of the clan came storming out of the shadows.

*Dhristi** and **Reet** walked in front, carrying a massive three-tier chocolate cake

"Happy Birthday to the Queen of Raj Mahal!" they all cheered in unison, their voices drowning out the quiet of the night.

**Akshat** clapped Ru on the back, grinning widely. "Maafi mil gayi, Bhai? Ya abhi bhi room ke bahar sone ka plan hai?".

**Krish** ran up to me, tugging at my rose-gold saree. "Bhabhi, cake! Muje strawberry wala piece chahiye!".

The anger of the entire day evaporated as I looked at my family. They hadn't forgotten; they were just better actors than I thought. Ru caught my eye over the flickering candles of the cake, a silent message passing between us. He had turned a day of loneliness into a lifetime of memories.

👑 Rudra's Perspective

The garden was alive with laughter and the warm glow of lanterns, a stark contrast to the cold silence I had maintained all morning. I stood by, watching my family surround the woman who had become the heart of the Rathor mansion.

"Krish, beta, woh 'Bhabhi' nahi hain, 'Badi Mumma' hain," Dhristi said, trying to correct her son with a gentle smile.

But our little champion wasn't having it. "No! Bhabhi hain meri!" he insisted, pouting.

Ishita let out a melodious laugh that made all the guilt from my morning's act vanish. "Koi baat nahi," she said, her eyes sparkling. "Chalo aao, cake cut karein hum dono?"

Krish's face lit up instantly. "Yeahhhhh!" he cheered, jumping in place.

I watched as Ishita, looking like a queen in her rose-gold silk, effortlessly picked him up. She held his small hand in hers, and together they pressed the knife into the strawberry-laden cake.

"Happy Birthday to meeee!" she sang out playfully, and the whole family erupted into claps and cheers.

She took the first bite-a big piece of strawberry-and fed it to Krish, who mowed it down with pure joy. Then, she picked up another bite. I felt a smirk tugging at my lips, straightening my navy shirt as I prepared to lean in. I was the one who planned all this, after all; surely I was next.

But as I leaned forward, Ishita caught my eye. She gave me a very sweet, very tight, and very "you-are-still-in-trouble" smile. Without breaking eye contact, she popped the cake into her own mouth and chewed slowly, savoring it while I stood there like a fool.

"Ouch," Akshat whispered from behind me, barely containing his laughter. "Looks like the Prince is still on the blacklist."

I let out a dry huff, crossing my arms. She was the only person on this planet who would dare to eat my share of the cake right in front of my face. But looking at her-vibrant, happy, and surrounded by the love of the Rathor family-I didn't mind being on the blacklist for a little longer.

I stood there, watching my "Janna" move gracefully through the crowd, feeding everyone a piece of that strawberry cake with a radiant smile. She went to Maa, Papaji, the brothers, and even the staff, but she pointedly avoided me.

Maa finally noticed and nudged her. "Arey, use bhi toh khila," she said, nodding toward me.

Ishita didn't even look my way as she wiped a bit of frosting from her finger. "Maa, aap bhul gayi kya? Woh yeh sab sweets nahi khaate aur cake unhe pasand bhi nahi hai. Unke birthday par bhi main hi khaati hoon, toh chhodo. He is all about 'gym-shym' and his diet."

I narrowed my eyes at her. She was using my own discipline against me as a punishment for the morning's prank.

Jay, the absolute brat, saw his chance. He stepped right into my personal space, holding a massive piece of cake. "Haan Bhai, Bhabhi sahi keh rahi hain. Aapki toh 'Greek God' image kharab ho jayegi." He took a slow, exaggerated bite right in front of my face, moaning in delight just to tease me.

"Mmm, strawberry is so good, Bhai. Too bad you're so dedicated to your abs," Jay muffled through the cake.

I didn't say a word. I just reached out with lightning speed and gave Jay a sharp, firm punch right in his rock-hard abs. He gasped, nearly choking on the cake as he doubled over, coughing.

"Focussed on my gym-shym, remember?" I said coolly, adjusted my navy blue kurta.

I looked over at Ishita. She was trying so hard to hide her smirk behind her rose-gold pallu, but I saw the sparkle in her eyes. I might be on the blacklist, but I knew my Queen was enjoying every second of this chaos.

I stood by the pillar, nursing a drink and watching the chaos of the celebration unfold. My "Janna" was doing an expert job of ignoring me, her laughter ringing out as she accepted gifts from everyone. I didn't mind the cold shoulder; I knew the fire was still there underneath. Jay, ever the entertainer, pulled her onto the makeshift dance floor, twirling her around in her rose-gold silk until she was breathless and glowing.

After a long, traditional dinner where she made sure everyone was served but barely glanced my way, the family finally retired for the night.

We entered our suite, the heavy doors closing with a soft thud that signaled the end of the public spectacle. The room was dim, lit only by a few warm lamps. Ishita immediately went to the vanity. I watched through the mirror as she gracefully unhooked the diamond earrings she'd worn all day.

Instead of getting ready for bed, she reached for the velvet box I had sent to the garden earlier. She began trying on the new trending *ghungroo* jewelry, admiring how the gold pieces shimmered against her skin. The soft *jingle-jingle* of the bangles was the only sound in the room.

I couldn't take the silence anymore. I walked up behind her, my shadow falling over her reflection. I placed my hands on her shoulders, feeling the delicate fabric of her saree.

"Aur kitna tadpayengi, Jaan? Bas kijiye," I murmured, my voice low and thick with the restraint I'd been holding all day. (How much more will you torture me, life? Enough now.)

I leaned down, my lips brushing against the shell of her ear, right next to the new earring that was still vibrating from her movement. "The whole world has wished you, and you've fed everyone but your 'Patidev'. Don't you think I deserve a little bit of your attention now that we're finally alone?"

I stood behind her, watching as she tilted her head to admire the way the *ghungroos* caught the light, completely ignoring my plea. She looked like a masterpiece in that rose-gold silk, but her silence was louder than the jewelry's jingle.

"Apne kaha na, aap bohot busy hain," she said, finally speaking but without looking at me in the mirror. "Toh jaiye na, check kijiye apna London merger. Shayad koi naya tax delay ho gaya ho."

"Janna, listen—" I started, reaching for her waist.

She slapped my hand away playfully but firmly, spinning around to face me with her hands on her hips, her brown eyes flashing with mock fury. "Bilkul nahi! Rudra Singh Rathor, aapko pata hai main subah se kitna royi hoon? Maine Mummy ko call karke bol diya tha ki main wapas aa rahi hoon kyunki mere 'Patidev' ko toh mera naam tak yaad nahi hoga!"

"Ishi, it was a surprise—"

"Surprise? Isse surprise kehte hain?" she whined, stomping her heel again. "Ye torture tha! Pure din sabne aise act kiya jaise main koi ghost hoon jiska birthday hi nahi hai. Aur aap? Aapne toh breakfast pe mujhse namak maanga jaise main koi delivery boy hoon!"

I couldn't help it; I let out a small chuckle. This was the 'kalesh' I had been expecting all evening.

"Haseeye mat!" she yelled, though her lips were twitching. "Abhi toh maine shuru kiya hai. Agle ek hafte tak, aapko sirf wo 'gym-shym' ka kadwa khana milega. No sweets, no parathas, and definitely no 'Janna' time. Aap apne laptop ke saath hi soiye!"

"Laptop ke saath?" I moved closer, trapping her between the vanity and my body, my navy shirt brushing against her shimmering saree. "That’s a very harsh punishment for a man who spent three hours making sure those jasmine were exactly the shade of white you like."

She pouted, looking away stubbornly. "Jasmine se kaam nahi chalega. You made me cry, Ru."

I softened, my playful smirk fading into something more sincere. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small, separate velvet pouch. "What if I told you there's one more gift? One that even Jay and Akshat don't know about?"

I watched her face as she took the small box from my hand, her eyes still blazing with that birthday fire. She snapped it open, only to find another small piece of paper. She glared at me, her fingers tightening around the box.

"Ye gift hai? Aur kitna mazak karenge?" she demanded, her voice rising in frustration. (This is the gift? How many more jokes will you play?)

"Kholo toh sahi," I murmured, keeping my expression steady. (Just open it.)

She unfolded the chit, her eyes scanning the words. She stopped, her jaw dropping as she read the instruction: *Open your husband's shirt*.

She looked up at me, completely scandalized. "Yahan main gussa hoon aur aapko romance ki padi hai? Sharm nahi aati?" she scolded, her face turning a deep shade of crimson that rivaled her rose-gold saree. (I'm angry here and you're thinking about romance? Have you no shame?)

"Jo likha hai, woh karo, Janna," I challenged, stepping closer until our chests were almost touching. (Do what is written.)

She gritted her teeth, letting out a frustrated huff. To get it over with, she reached out and forcefully began unbuttoning my navy blue shirt. Her movements were hurried and annoyed—until she saw it.

She froze. A small hint of dark ink was peeking out from the skin directly over my heart. Her breathing hitched, and her gaze flickered up to mine. I didn't say anything; I just gestured with my chin for her to look.

Slowly, her trembling fingers pulled the fabric aside. There, etched permanently into the muscle over my heartbeat, was her name. **ISHITA** was written in bold, elegant letters, and right beneath it, in a delicate script, was her nickname: **Janna**.

The man who didn't believe in love or God had branded himself with her identity forever.

She stood perfectly still, her fingertips ghosting over the fresh ink as if she were afraid it would disappear. The "kalesh" was gone, replaced by a silence so heavy with emotion that the only sound in the room was the soft jingle of her new *ghungroo* jewelry.

"Ru..." she whispered, her voice cracking as the first real tear of the night—one of pure love—escaped.

"Now do you believe me?" I asked softly, covering her hand with mine and pressing it against the tattoo. "Business will come and go, Ishi. But you... you're written into my very pulse."

💖 Ishita's Perspective

My heart shattered the moment I saw it. The bold black ink, still slightly raised and red against his fair skin, was a permanent mark of his love. My vision blurred as warm tears spilled over my cheeks, dripping onto my rose-gold silk saree.

"Why did you do this, Ru?" I whispered, my voice trembling with a mixture of love and agony. "Dard hua hoga na?" (It must have hurt, right?)

The thought of a needle piercing his skin over and over, especially right over his heart, made me feel the pain myself. I quickly pulled my hand back from his firm grasp. I couldn't bear to keep my hand pressed against it, terrified that even my lightest touch would cause him more pain or irritate the fresh wound.

I stepped back, my shoulders shaking as I broke down into heavy sobs. I looked at the man who was Rajasthan's cold-hearted prince, a man who didn't believe in God or emotions, yet he had branded himself with my name forever.

"Ishi, look at me," he murmured, his voice like velvet, but I just shook my head, covering my mouth with my hands.

The jingle of my new *ghungroo* jewelry felt mocking now, a sharp sound against the heaviness of my crying. I was so afraid—afraid of the depth of his love, and afraid that I wasn't worthy of him enduring such physical pain just to prove a point to me on my birthday.

"Don't cry, Janna," he said, stepping into my space again. "It’s just ink. It’s nothing compared to the three years I spent without you."

But I couldn't stop. I just stood there, looking at the names **ISHITA** and **Janna** etched over his heartbeat, feeling like the luckiest and most heartbroken woman all at once.

My heart was a mess of emotions, the "birthday kalesh" from earlier feeling so small and trivial now. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing as I looked at the names **ISHITA** and **Janna** etched forever onto his chest. Every time I looked at the red, irritated skin around the ink, I felt a fresh wave of guilt.

Ru didn't let me stay in my shell for long. He stepped forward, his large, warm hands reaching out to cup my face, forcing me to look up into those piercing ocean-blue eyes. He used his thumbs to gently brush away the tears that were ruining my makeup.

"Ishi, stop," he whispered, his voice incredibly soft. "I didn't do this to make you cry. I did this so that every time my heart beats, it says your name."

He pulled me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me in a protective cocoon. I tucked my head under his chin, my ear resting right against the tattoo. I could hear the steady, strong thrum of his heart beneath the ink, and it grounded me. The scent of his expensive cologne mixed with the faint, metallic smell of fresh ink, and I finally let out a shaky breath, my sobs turning into soft hiccups.

Once he felt me relax against him, I felt his chest vibrate with a low chuckle. He pulled back just enough to look at me, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes.

"Waise, Janna... if you're really that worried about the pain, there is a very specific medical cure for tattoo inflammation," he said, his tone turning mock-serious.

I looked up, blinking my tear-clumped lashes. "Kya? Main ointment le kar aati hoon..." (What? I'll go get the ointment...)

I started to move, but he held me firm by the waist. "No ointment. The doctor said the only way to heal this is if the person whose name is written there stops complaining about 'gym-shym' and 'London mergers' for at least forty-eight hours."

I let out a watery laugh, hitting his shoulder lightly. "Aap bohot besharam hain, Ru!"

"And," he continued, leaning down until his nose brushed mine, "the doctor also mentioned that birthday kisses have high healing properties. So, are you going to help me recover, or should I call Akshat and tell him his Bhabhi is being heartless again?"

I pouted, the last of my sadness melting into a blush. "Fine. But only because it's a 'medical' necessity."

I leaned down, my heart overflowing, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss directly over the fresh ink of the tattoo. The skin was still warm, and I could feel his pulse racing against my lips.

"Haye, Jaan..." Ru groaned softly, his hands tightening on my waist as he pulled me flush against him. "Mera control toot jayega, main subah se 'needy' hoon." (My control will break... I've been needy since morning.)

I looked up at him, a playful smile finally replacing my tears. "Aap kabhi sudhroge ya nahi?" (Will you ever change or not?)

"Zindagi bhar nahi," he replied, his ocean-blue eyes dark with a mix of love and desire. (Not in this lifetime.)

We both chuckled, the tension of the day finally dissolving into the quiet of our chamber. I stood on my tiptoes, reaching for him, and our lips met in a soft, deep kiss that moved in a perfect, familiar rhythm. It was long and breathless, a silent seal on all the promises we had made to each other through the years of separation and the joy of our reunion.

When we finally broke apart, both of us slightly dazed, I reached up and began to unhook the heavy *ghungroo* earrings he had gifted me. The soft jingle echoed in the room as I set them on the vanity.

"Door lock karo aur light off karke bed par aana," I whispered, my voice thick with a sudden shyness despite being his wife. (Lock the door, turn off the lights, and come to bed.)

Ru’s lips curled into a slow, dangerous smirk—the kind that reminded me he was still Rajasthan's cold-hearted prince, even if he was soft only for me. "Jo hukum, Janna," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as he turned toward the door. (As you command.)

I turned back to the mirror, my fingers trembling slightly as I began to unpin the rose-gold tissue silk of my saree, ready to end the most emotional birthday of my life in the arms of the man who carried my name over his heart.

👑 Rudra's Perspective

I locked the heavy doors of our chamber, the click echoing through the silent room as I turned back to see her moving toward the bed, the rose-gold silk of her saree shimmering in the dim light. I didn't give her a chance to settle; I followed her quickly, my pulse still racing from the feel of her lips on my fresh tattoo. With a swift motion, I reached out and switched off the main lights, plunging the room into a soft, romantic glow.

I didn't wait. I picked her up in my arms—she felt so light, so perfect—and jumped onto the mattress with her. She let out a startled, melodic laugh that filled the room, her curls fanning out across the pillows like dark silk.

"Ru!" she gasped, her hands clutching my shoulders, the gold *ghungroo* bangles on her wrists jingling wildly with the movement.

I didn't answer with words. I leaned down and captured her lips in a deep, hungry kiss, my hands finally finding the edge of her saree pleats. As I worked to undo the intricate tucks she had so carefully placed that morning, I felt her breath hitch against my mouth. Every soft moan she let out was like a direct hit to my heart, the one that now permanently carried her name in ink.

In this dark, quiet room, I was just a man completely consumed by his *Janna*, celebrating the most precious gift fate had ever given me.

The darkness of the room was thick with the scent of jasmine and the sound of our heavy breathing as I completely focused on her. I finally finished undoing the pleats, and the rose-gold silk fell away, leaving her in her delicate inner wear. My hand moved to the soft curves of her body, and I squeezed her breast firmly, feeling the heat radiating through her skin.

Ishita let out a sharp, melodic moan that vibrated against my lips, her fingers digging into my shoulders right next to my fresh tattoo.

"Ru..." she whispered, her voice a breathless plea.

I didn't stop. I moved my head down, burying my face in the crook of her neck. I sucked on the sensitive skin of her collarbone and neck, marking her just as I had marked myself for her. While my lips were occupied, my fingers found the hooks of her blouse, deftly undoing them until the fabric was gone.

She arched her back against the mattress, her chest heaving as she let out another soft moan. In this moment, the cold businessman from Rajasthan was completely gone, replaced by a man who was utterly needy for his Janna.

The jingle of her *ghungroo* bangles on the nightstand was the only other sound as I continued to explore her, making sure she felt every bit of the love I had promised when I confessed my feelings years ago.

I looked down in the dim light and realized she wasn't wearing a bra under the blouse. A low, dark chuckle escaped my throat as I felt my pulse jump.

"Subah se ready thi mere liye?" I teased, my voice thick and hungry. (Were you ready for me since morning?)

Ishita’s face flushed a deep crimson, and she tried to look away, though there was nowhere to hide in my arms. "Is blouse mein bra ki zaroorat nahi hoti, Ru," she whispered, her voice trembling as she tried to defend her fashion choice. (A bra isn't needed in this blouse.)

"Whatever the reason, I’m not complaining," I murmured. I leaned down, my lips finding the soft, warm weight of her breasts. I began to suck and kiss her weakest point—her cleavage—knowing exactly how to make her lose her breath.

My hands weren't idle; I began playing with her nipples, rolling them between my fingers while I continued to taste her skin. The sensation made her arch her back off the mattress, and she let out a loud, unrestrained moan that echoed through our silent chamber.

While my mouth stayed occupied with her chest, my other hand traveled lower, finding the waistband of her saree shapewear. I began to work it down her hips, my touch firm and possessive, reminding her that tonight

The 5:00 AM alarm chirped on the nightstand—the disciplined, CEO side of me reacting out of habit. But as the sound cut through the quiet of our chamber, I didn't think about **The Rathor Company** or the morning's meetings. I reached out a heavy arm, fumbled for the phone, and silenced it with a sharp tap before pulling Ishita back against me. I let the world wait, snuggling deeper into the crook of her neck and falling back into a deep, dreamless sleep.

By 9:00 AM, the sunlight was filtering through the heavy Rajasthani curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. I felt her stir in my arms.

💖 Ishita's Perspective

I woke up slowly, feeling a heavy, comforting weight draped over me. My legs were still tangled with his, and I could feel the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart against my back—right where I knew my name was etched in ink. I tilted my head back slightly, looking over my shoulder to find my husband looking anything but cold.

Ru was buried deep into my neck, his face softened by sleep, his grip on my waist firm and possessive even in his dreams. The sight of him like this—vulnerable, peaceful, and entirely mine—brought a wide smile to my face.

"Good morning, **Patidev**," I whispered softly, my voice still husky from sleep.

He didn't open his eyes immediately, but I felt his grip tighten, and a low, rumbling hum vibrated against my skin.

"Hmm... too early, Janna," he muttered, his voice thick and gravelly as he nuzzled my shoulder. "Stay. The office can survive without me for one day."

I chuckled, reaching back to run my fingers through his messy hair. "Ru, it's 9:00 AM. Akshat and Jay probably think we’ve been kidnapped again."

I tried to pry his heavy, muscular arm from my waist, but he only tightened his grip, pulling me back until there wasn't a single millimeter of space between us.

"Ru, chhodo na... I'm hungry! Let me get fresh and let's go downstairs, please," I pleaded, though my heart wasn't really in the protest.

"Hungry, hmm?" he rumbled, his voice dark and honey-thick with sleep. As always, he finally loosened his hold just enough to shift, but instead of letting me go, he propped himself up on one elbow. His eyes immediately found the new moles on my shoulder and jawline. I don't know when they appeared, but Ru had become absolutely obsessed with them.

He leaned down, his lips trailing fire as he kissed the one on my neck then moved up to linger on the one near my jaw. "Janna, you are a total mood breaker, you know that?"

I laughed, feeling the familiar flutter in my stomach that only he could trigger. "Haa, I know. Now come on, let’s go bathe!"

His ocean-blue eyes darkened as a slow, wicked smirk spread across his face—the look that told me he had a very different idea of what "getting ready" looked like. "Together?" he asked, his voice a low challenge.

I didn't answer with words. I leaned in and gave him a quick, sweet peck on the lips, my eyes dancing with mischief. "Together," I whispered.

I scrambled out of bed before he could grab me again, heading toward the bathroom with my rose-gold saree gathered in my arms, hearing his deep chuckle follow me.

The steam was already beginning to fill the air, turning the grand bathroom into a warm, hazy sanctuary. I had just stepped under the spray when the door clicked shut, and I felt Ru’s presence behind me. He didn't say a word; he simply stepped into the water, his 6'3" frame looming over me, blocking out the rest of the world.

I reached for the soap, but his hands were faster. He took the sponge from me, but instead of washing, his eyes became fixated on my jawline. The water ran down his face, making those ocean-blue eyes look even more intense.

"Ru, we’re supposed to be getting ready," I whispered, my voice echoing slightly against the marble walls.

"In a minute," he murmured, his thumb ghosting over the small, dark mark on my neck. "I told you, Janna... these new moles are going to be the death of me."

He leaned down, the cool water from the shower hitting his back while his lips stayed warm against my skin. He kissed the mole on my neck with agonizing slowness, his tongue tracing the spot until I felt my knees go weak. Then, he moved to my jawline, worshipping the other new mark as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

"Aap... aap phir se shuru ho gaye," I moaned softly, my hands finding his wet forearms around my waist (You've started again...)

"I can't help it," he rasped, his hands sliding down to my waist to pull me flush against him. "Everything about you is a distraction, but these? These are just unfair."

He turned me around so I was facing him, the water cascading over both of us. He picked me up, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, as he pinned me gently against the wet tile.

"Ru! Nasta thanda ho jayega!" I laughed, even as I tilted my head back to give him better access to my neck. (Breakfast will get cold!)

"Let it," he growled playfully, his lips moving from my jaw to my lips for a deep, wet kiss. "I’m already having the best breakfast of my life."