For two whole days, they vanished —No flashing cameras.No staged smiles.No rules.Just stolen time.A borrowed world.A man who burned quietly.And a woman learning to smolder.
🌤 Day 1: Shopping and Silken Glances
He offered her a private stylist.
Maholi laughed — cocking a brow, crossing her arms under her chest.
"I'm not one of your on-screen dolls."
So instead, under an alias, they slipped into a hidden boutique tucked between forgotten streets.He wore a hoodie. She wore defiance.
She browsed with unpolished ease — a messy bun, no lipstick, her fingers running through fabrics like they were poetry.But every time she held a dress up to her chest and twirled toward him, his throat dried.
She tried on a pale blue satin dress — the straps delicate, the back open.When she emerged from the trial room, he didn't speak.
He just stepped in behind her — inside —One hand flattened against the bare curve of her back,The other gripping the edge of the door behind her.
His lips brushed her ear.
"Buy it. Or let me tear it off. Slowly."
She shivered.
But didn't step away.
So he bought her the dress.And twenty more.Each one a fantasy he hadn't spoken aloud.
🌙 That Night: The Night Market
Hidden under his cap, Abir let her pull him through glowing lanes and crooked alleys.
She walked with ease, fingers laced through his — like it was always meant to be this way.They shared a sugarcane drink from the same glass, her lipstick smudging the rim.
She ate fried momos with wild abandon.He wiped the sauce from her lips with his thumb.Then licked it clean from his own.
In a photo booth, just as the flash went off, he kissed her shoulder —Unplanned.Unrepentant.
The blurry strip caught her half-gasp, half-laugh.She tucked it into her book later like a pressed flower.
🌒 Night 1 – Hotel Heat
The suite welcomed them in silence.Candles flickered on side tables.The air held the scent of spice and skin.
Maholi walked in barefoot, carrying a bag full of nothing important — bangles, cheap earrings, a phone case that said Fierce Heart.
She pulled the band from her hair, curls cascading like ink across her bare shoulders.
Abir stood behind her, shadows playing across his face.
"You look better wild," he said, voice gravel and warmth."Unarranged. Like trouble I want to unwrap."
She met his eyes in the mirror.
"And you look like a mistake I'll make twice."
He stepped forward.
No more words.
His mouth claimed hers — not as a question, but as a need.A hunger that had grown for days, weeks, maybe longer.
He kissed her until her knees weakened.Until her bag dropped.Until her breath forgot how to fight.
Their clothes peeled off like secrets — one layer at a time.Her top slipped over her head.His hoodie hit the floor.
He touched her like he'd earned the right — and she let him like he had.
Her bra fell between them, forgotten.
He kissed down her throat, to her chest — tongue flicking, lips closing around a breast with sinful, slow worship.Her breath caught.
Then she pushed him.Not away — down.
He fell onto the bed, surprised, laughing under his breath.She straddled him, eyes locked with his.
And touched him.
Not shy. Not fumbling.She traced the lines of his stomach, dipped fingers under the waistband of his boxers.He hissed — hips twitching as she found him already hard, already pulsing.
She stroked him — slow, deliberate — eyes burning into his.Then leaned down to kiss his chest… and lower.
But before she could go further, he flipped her.
Now he hovered.
His lips trailed down her stomach, his hands spreading her thighs with possessive ease.
He kissed the inside of her knee. Her thigh.Then paused.
Looked at her. One heartbeat. Two.
"If I taste you tonight… I won't stop until you're shaking."
Maholi couldn't breathe.
"Do it," she whispered.
And he did.
His mouth met her heat with unbearable softness — a single lick, so slow it made her gasp.He took his time. He explored. He teased.
He worshipped.
Tongue flicking, lips sucking, fingers sliding inside her, curling in rhythm — until she was grinding against his mouth, one hand over her own mouth to silence the moans tearing through her.
She shattered once.
Then again, when he didn't stop.
When he finally rose, lips glistening, he kissed her open mouth and whispered,
"Now you're ready to take me."
And she was.
He entered her like a secret.Deep.Deliberate.Slow enough to make her cry out.
They moved in rhythm — hips grinding, hands grabbing, mouths finding new places to bite and kiss.
No roles. No pretending.
Just raw need.
When they came — her back arched, his name strangled in her moan, his grip bruising her hips —it was like falling off the edge of the world together.
☀️ Day 2 – Morning Glow
Maholi woke tangled in sheets, her skin scented with him, his arms a cage around her.
She didn't move.
Just stared at his sleeping face, lips parted, breath warm against her shoulder.
"You're staring again," he murmured without opening his eyes.
"You're imagining things," she whispered.
"No," he grinned lazily, kissing her shoulder."I feel it. Like sunlight. All over me."
He kissed her again.Then again.Until she stopped teasing and melted into his morning heat.
🛍️ Later – Shopping & Secrets
She picked cotton and soft pastels.
He picked lace, silk, and a deep emerald slip that barely covered anything.
"You'll wear this for me."
"You think I'm easy?"
"No," he said, eyes darkening."But I'll make you want to be."
Her thighs pressed together.
She didn't say no.
🛁 Night 2 – Candlelight Confessions
The bath was hot, fragrant with rose oil.Candlelight flickered off tile.
"You're ridiculous," Maholi laughed, unbuttoning her shirt."This is rom-com level cheesy."
"And yet, here you are — stripping for me."
They stepped in together.
Her back rested against his chest.His hands roamed underwater — slow strokes up her belly, between her legs.
She turned. Straddled him.
Their slick skin collided, heat rising as the water rippled around them.She reached down, guided him inside her, biting his shoulder as he filled her.
No thrusting.Just rolling hips.Slow, drowning, blissful.
He cupped her ass, kissed her breasts, buried his face in her neck as they rocked — water sloshing, breath catching.
When they came, it was soft.Wet.A secret trembled out in heat and silence.
🌧️ Final Night – Rain & Ruin
The city rained.
Inside, against the glass, he bent her forward — her hands flat on the window, her body arching.
Their reflections glowed against lightning.
His hand wrapped gently around her throat, the other gripping her hip as he moved inside her from behind —deep, brutal, loving.
Her moans fogged the glass.
Her nails raked his thighs.
When she came, it was a scream pressed into the pane.When he came, it was her name growled like worship.
They collapsed in tangled sheets.The thunder outside couldn't match the storm inside them.
And when they slept, it wasn't sleep.
It was surrender.