18+ chapter! it's also long!!

The hotel room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the faint sound of waves crashing against the shore outside. 

The walls were painted in neutral tones, with large windows offering a panoramic view of the beach they'd just left behind. 

The late afternoon sun was dipping below the horizon, casting the room in a warm, golden light.

Shubman Gill stepped into the room first, his bare feet brushing against the cool wooden floor. He ran a hand through his damp hair, still smelling faintly of salt water. 

His linen shirt clung to his toned frame, loosely buttoned, revealing a hint of the muscles in his chest. 

The shirt billowed around his broad shoulders, and his light grey shorts rested just above his knees. 

He shut the door behind him with a gentle push and immediately made his way over to the window, leaning his elbows on the ledge, staring out at the ocean.

Naima Prushka followed him in, but she didn't move immediately. She stood in the far corner of the room, half-facing the large bed, her eyes glued to her phone. 

She wore nothing but a bikini top and a loose, white sarong tied casually at her waist, the fabric flowing to just above her knees. 

Her tanned skin was still glistening with drops of water, a reflection of the warm sun and salty breeze from their time at the beach.

She scrolled through the notifications on her phone, swiping away the flood of messages. The crack of the door closing behind her didn't break her focus, even though Shubman was there, standing with his back to her. 

He seemed lost in thought, his posture stiff as he gazed out into the distance. Naima rolled her eyes at something on her screen, but her face softened when she looked up, seeing the curve of his back, the tension in his body.

"Something on your mind?" she asked, her voice low but with an edge of curiosity. 

She didn't look up, instead tapping on her phone again, but her tone made it clear she wasn't about to let him drift off into his own world.

Shubman glanced over his shoulder, his dark eyes scanning her. There was something about the way she carried herself, the way her bikini and sarong framed her toned body, that had him feeling both at ease and irritated all at once. 

He didn't answer right away, but then, a slight chuckle escaped him, a little forced.

"Yeah," he finally replied, turning fully to face her. "You've been on your phone for the past hour. Thought we were here to unwind." 

He pushed off the window ledge, making his way toward her. He let the words sit between them, a mix of frustration and attraction.

Naima looked up at him, a sharp look in her eyes. She tucked a strand of wet hair behind her ear and sighed. 

"I'm just checking in. It's called being responsible, babe. Not all of us have the luxury of letting go completely."

Her tone, always tinged with sarcasm, seemed to strike a nerve. Shubman's jaw tightened, and he walked closer, stopping just a few feet from her. The air between them felt charged, thick with something unspoken.

"You know what? I don't give a damn about the team's notifications right now," he muttered, frustration slipping into his voice. 

"All that matters is the fact that we're together, and we barely ever get these moments. We get one damn evening, and you're glued to that fucking screen."

Naima didn't flinch, but her lips curled into a slight smirk. She leaned back against the wall, her arms folded across her chest, the sarong clinging to her frame in a way that made him momentarily forget his words. 

"And I'm supposed to just forget about everything else? Nice try, but that's not how I work, Gill."

Her voice was cool, but there was an unmistakable challenge in it.

Shubman's eyes flashed with a flicker of irritation. "You never shut off. Never. Always running around, looking for something to fix, to do. Why can't you just be here with me? Just once?"

Naima's gaze softened as she met his eyes, sensing the depth of his frustration. She lowered her phone, letting it hang loosely at her side. 

"Maybe you should try asking me to stay instead of telling me what to do," she said, the edge of annoyance in her voice disappearing. 

"You think I don't want to be here with you, Shubman? We're both the same. We don't know how to stop, how to just be."

Shubman exhaled sharply, his body tense, but his tone gentled when he spoke again. "I just want to be with you. Is that too much to ask for?" 

His voice held a vulnerability that didn't often show, especially in moments like these.

Naima shifted her weight, her fingers curling around the hem of her sarong as she moved closer to him. "Fine. I'll take a break from the world for a bit." She paused in front of him, staring into his eyes. 

"But only if you promise not to be a grumpy little bitch about it, alright?" Her smirk returned, mischievous and knowing.

Shubman couldn't help but smile, the tension in his shoulders finally easing. "Deal. I'll try to keep my 'grumpy little bitch' in check. But if you look at your phone one more time, I swear, I'll toss it in the damn ocean."

She laughed, the sound soft but genuine. "You think you can stop me?" She tilted her head, daring him.

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer until their faces were just inches apart. "Try me," he muttered. His breath mixed with hers, and the tension between them melted into something much more intimate.

Naima leaned forward, brushing her lips against his ear. "You better be ready to back up that threat."

Shubman chuckled softly, hands reaching for her waist, pulling her closer, the salty air mixing with the scent of his cologne. 

"Guess I'll have to. But not just yet."

Shubman's smirk deepened as he slid his hands more firmly around her waist. Before Naima could make another sly comment, he dipped slightly, gripping her securely. 

In one smooth motion, he lifted her off her feet, her body weightless in his strong arms. She let out a startled laugh, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

"Shubman!" she exclaimed, her phone dropping onto the nearby chair with a soft thud. "Put me down, you idiot!"

He grinned at her, the mischievous gleam in his eyes undeniable. "Not a chance," he replied, his voice low but playful. 

"You've been glued to that damn phone all day. It's my turn to have your attention."

She wiggled slightly in his arms, pretending to protest, but she didn't really want him to let go. 

Her damp hair brushed against his shirt as she laughed again, her cheeks flushed from a mix of lingering sunburn and their playful banter. 

Her bikini top shifted slightly as she moved, and Shubman, ever the observant one, arched a brow.

"Careful, Naima," he teased, his voice dropping to a deeper, more suggestive tone. "I might drop you if you keep squirming like that."

Her lips parted in mock indignation. "You wouldn't dare. Don't test me, Gill."

"Oh, wouldn't I?" he shot back, effortlessly shifting her weight as he strode toward the bed. She could feel the strength in his arms, the taut muscles beneath the linen shirt he still wore. 

He carried her as if she weighed nothing, and she hated—loved—how easy he made it look.

He reached the edge of the bed and paused, his grin widening as he glanced down at her. 

"What's that you always say?" he mused, his tone dripping with amusement. 

"'Don't tell me what to do?' Well, I think I'll do whatever I damn well please."

Before she could retort, he leaned down, placing her gently but firmly onto the soft mattress. Naima landed with a light bounce, the sarong shifting to reveal more of her legs. 

She propped herself up on her elbows, her dark eyes glaring up at him with a mix of defiance and amusement.

"You're such an asshole, you know that?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, though her smirk betrayed her amusement.

Shubman shrugged, standing over her, looking far too smug for her liking. He unbuttoned another clasp of his linen shirt, letting it hang even looser. 

"Yeah, but I'm your asshole, aren't I?" he shot back, his grin turning cocky.

Naima snorted, rolling her eyes. "That's debatable." But her playful tone gave her away, and she reached for him, curling her fingers around the waistband of his shorts. 

"Get down here, you overconfident jerk."

His smile softened, and he dropped to one knee beside her, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face. 

His touch was gentle, contrasting with the teasing energy that had been building between them. 

"You know I'm right," he murmured, his voice quieter now, though the teasing lilt remained.

She tilted her head, pretending to consider his words. "Hmm. I guess you have your moments."

"Mighty generous of you to admit," he quipped, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. He lingered there for a moment before pulling back to meet her gaze. 

"So, are we done with the phone? Or do I actually need to chuck it into the ocean?"

Naima sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. "Fine. No phone. Happy now?"

He leaned over her, bracing himself on his hands as he looked down into her eyes. "Ecstatic." 

Then, without warning, he grinned and swooped in, tickling her sides, making her squeal with laughter.

"Shubman! Stop it!" she gasped, trying to swat his hands away but failing miserably as she dissolved into uncontrollable giggles.

"Say you'll stay off the phone," he teased, his fingers relentless.

"I said fine, you idiot!" she laughed, squirming beneath him. "God, you're insufferable!"

"Yeah, but you love me for it," he replied, his hands finally stopping their assault as he leaned down, his face inches from hers. 

His voice softened again, the teasing edge replaced with something warmer. "And I love you, even when you're impossible."

Naima's laughter faded, and she reached up, brushing her fingertips lightly along his jawline.

"You're lucky you're cute," she murmured, her voice teasing but soft.

"Damn right I am," he said, grinning before leaning in to kiss her, the world outside their room disappearing once more.

As their laughter subsided, Shubman lingered close, his forehead resting lightly against hers. His dark eyes searched hers, their playful glow softening into something deeper, more vulnerable. 

The energy in the room shifted; the teasing and banter gave way to an almost palpable tension, heavy but not uncomfortable.

Naima tilted her head slightly, her hand still resting against his jaw. Her fingers brushed his stubble as her expression softened. 

"What's going on in that head of yours?" she murmured, her voice quieter now, laced with curiosity.

Shubman hesitated for a beat, his gaze flickering down to her lips and then back to her eyes. His throat worked as if he were swallowing back words he wasn't sure he wanted to say. 

Then, before he could second-guess himself, the words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered.

"Do you want to make love?" he blurted, his voice low but firm. 

The bluntness of his question surprised even him, and he froze for a moment, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and anticipation.

Naima blinked, her eyes widening briefly before a slow, disbelieving smile spread across her face. 

"What?" she asked, her tone a mix of amusement and disbelief, though her cheeks flushed as well. 

"Did you seriously just say that? Like that?"

Shubman let out a soft groan, dropping his forehead to her shoulder, his embarrassment evident. 

"Shit," he muttered, his voice muffled against her skin. "I wasn't—damn it, Naima. I wasn't planning to say it like that. It just came out."

She laughed softly, the sound vibrating between them. Her hand moved to the back of his neck, her fingers threading through his damp hair. 

"You really need to work on your delivery, Gill," she teased, though her voice was tinged with affection.

He lifted his head, his expression sheepish but earnest as he met her gaze again. "I'm serious," he said, his tone quieter now but steady. 

"I mean... if you're not ready, that's fine. But I'm just—" He exhaled deeply as if struggling to find the right words. 

"I feel like I want to be closer to you. As close as I can get. Not just physically, but everything."

Her smile softened, and for a moment, she didn't say anything, just looking at him like she was trying to figure him out. 

The room seemed to hold its breath around them, the golden light from the sunset painting her skin in warm hues.

Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're such a dork, you know that?"

"Yeah," he admitted with a small smile. "But I'm your dork, remember?"

Naima's fingers slid down to cup his cheek, her eyes locked with his. "You're lucky you're cute. And honest. And... ridiculously charming when you don't even mean to be."

 She leaned up, brushing her lips softly against his. The kiss was slow, tender, and when she pulled back, she looked him in the eye. 

"I want that, too."

His breath hitched, and his lips parted slightly as her words sank in. "You do?"

She nodded, her smile now laced with a hint of shyness. "Yeah. I do. But only if you promise not to be awkward about it."

He laughed, the tension in his body easing as he leaned down to press his forehead to hers again. "I'll try. No promises, though."

Naima laughed with him, her fingers tracing lazy circles on the back of his neck. "Guess I'll have to take my chances."

He leaned in again, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was deeper, more lingering this time.

 As their bodies drew closer, the world outside the room faded completely, leaving only the sound of their breaths and the warmth they shared.

The kiss deepened, their breaths mingling as the air between them grew hotter, more charged. Shubman's hands moved instinctively, sliding along her sides, brushing against the soft fabric of her sarong. 

He tugged at the loose knot holding it in place, and the light cloth slipped away, pooling around her on the bed.

Naima's arms wrapped tighter around his neck, pulling him closer. Her skin was warm beneath his touch, her bikini top damp against his chest where their bodies met.

 She murmured his name softly against his lips, her voice barely audible but filled with emotion.

Shubman pulled back just enough to look at her, his dark eyes searching hers for any hesitation. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice husky but tender, a quiet vulnerability breaking through his usual confidence.

Naima reached up, cupping his face with both hands. Her thumbs brushed his cheekbones as she gazed at him, her expression soft but resolute. 

"I've never been more sure about anything," she said, her voice steady and sincere.

That was all he needed. Shubman kissed her again, slower this time, his movements deliberate, as though savouring every moment. 

His hands roamed her body with a mix of reverence and desire, exploring the curves he'd admired so many times before but had never touched with such intent.

Naima responded in kind, her fingers sliding down his back, tugging at the fabric of his linen shirt. 

She pushed it off his shoulders, revealing his toned, sun-kissed torso. 

The shirt fell to the floor in a careless heap, forgotten as their focus remained solely on each other. 

Her hands traced the lines of his muscles, the warmth of his skin under her fingertips sending shivers through her.

He paused to sit back on his heels, taking her in fully for a moment. Her bikini top clung to her, the vibrant colours accentuating the deep tan of her skin. 

Her chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, and her dark eyes watched him with a mixture of anticipation and affection. 

She looked like something out of a dream, and Shubman couldn't stop himself from smiling.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Naima flushed, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance but unable to hide the way her lips curved into a soft smile. 

"You're not too bad yourself, Gill. Now stop staring and get over here."

He chuckled but didn't need to be told twice. He leaned back down, his lips finding hers again as his hands worked to untie the strings of her bikini top. 

It came loose, and he slid it away, his touch gentle but deliberate. His lips left hers to trail along her jawline, down her neck, leaving a line of soft kisses that made her shiver beneath him.

Naima's hands explored his chest, her fingers tracing the contours of his body as she tilted her head back, letting him take his time. 

Her breaths came faster, her body responding to his every touch.

"Shubman," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly, a mix of need and affection.

He paused, lifting his head to look at her again. 

"I'm here," he said softly, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The passion between them burned brightly, but it was more than that. 

There was trust, connection, and a sense of being completely present with one another.

Shubman pulled away from her slightly, his breathing heavy and his lips curved into a soft, teasing smile. 

His hands brushed along her waist before he leaned over to the bedside table, his movements fluid but deliberate. 

Naima propped herself up on her elbows, watching him, her chest rising and falling with anticipation.

He opened the drawer, fishing out a small foil packet. The sight of it made her cheeks flush deeper, and she bit her lower lip. 

Something about the way he moved, so unhurried but confident, made her heart race.

Shubman caught her gaze as he held up the condom with two fingers, his grin turning boyish. "Always prepared," he quipped, his voice low and teasing.

Naima rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched in a smirk. "You think you're so smooth, don't you?"

He leaned closer, his eyes dark with amusement and something deeper. "Oh, I know I am," he murmured, and before she could retort, he brought the foil packet to his lips.

With one swift, practiced motion, he tore it open using his teeth, the sound of the rip echoing softly in the otherwise quiet room. 

His eyes never left hers as he did it, the intensity in his gaze making her feel like she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him at that moment. 

The way his jaw clenched slightly, the faint gleam of his teeth against the foil—it all made her breath catch.

Her eyes widened involuntarily, and she felt a wave of heat flush through her body. She couldn't help it; the entire scene felt straight out of a romance novel, the kind she devoured in secret.

"Book sex coded," her brain supplied unhelpfully, and the thought made her cheeks burn even hotter.

"You okay there, Prushka?" Shubman asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

 He'd clearly noticed her reaction, and his smirk turned downright sinful as he discarded the foil wrapper onto the nightstand.

 "You're looking a little... distracted."

Naima swallowed, narrowing her eyes at him to cover her embarrassment. "You think you're so sexy, don't you?"

He arched a brow, shifting closer to her, the condom now held deftly between his fingers. "I don't think," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "I know."

The sheer confidence in his tone made her heart stutter. "Cocky bastard," she muttered, though her voice lacked any real venom.

"Maybe," he admitted with a shrug, leaning in to brush his lips against hers. "But I don't hear you complaining."

She was about to fire back with another sarcastic comment, but he silenced her with a kiss, deep and unrelenting, leaving her no choice but to melt into him. 

When he pulled back, his expression softened, the teasing edge giving way to something more vulnerable.

"You're beautiful, Naima," he said quietly, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone. "And if you want me to stop at any point, you just say the word."

The sincerity in his tone made her chest tighten. She reached up to cup his face, her thumb brushing against his stubbled jawline. 

"I'm not stopping," she said, her voice steady but soft. "I want this. I want you."

His breath hitched slightly, and he pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "Good," he whispered, his lips curving into a smile.

 "Because I've never wanted anyone like this."

He sat back slightly, making space as he rolled the condom on with practiced ease, his movements smooth and deliberate. 

Naima couldn't tear her eyes away from him, her thoughts spiraling as she watched him. He looked completely in his element—confident, composed, and yes, devastatingly sexy.

"Are you always this annoyingly perfect?" she asked, her voice tinged with both amusement and awe.

Shubman chuckled, leaning back over her, his weight pressing her gently into the mattress. His lips hovered just above hers as he grinned. 

"Only when it comes to you."

Naima shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her. "God, you're impossible."

"And you love it," he murmured before Shubman's lips crashed against hers, the playful teasing dissolving into unbridled passion. 

His hands cupped her face with a mix of reverence and urgency, his thumbs brushing against her flushed cheeks as his mouth claimed hers with a hunger that made her head spin.

 Naima felt herself sinking into the moment, her body responding to his every touch, every movement.

He kissed her deeply, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, exploring, tasting her like he couldn't get enough. 

One of his hands trailed down her neck, his fingers leaving a trail of fire as they brushed over her collarbone and continued lower. 

His touch was deliberate, almost teasing, as he traced the curve of her breast before his palm covered it completely, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak.

Naima gasped against his lips, her hands clutching at his shoulders. "Shubman," she breathed, her voice trembling with a mix of need and exhilaration.

"Hmm?" he murmured against her lips, his tone laced with mischief as he pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.

 His pupils were blown wide with desire, his expression raw and intense. "What is it? Can't keep up with me?"

She narrowed her eyes, though the effect was ruined by the breathless smile that tugged at her lips. "You're so damn full of yourself."

"And you love it," he quipped, his voice low and gravelly as he leaned down to press open-mouthed kisses along her jawline, moving steadily toward her neck.

 He nipped at her pulse point gently, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. "Admit it, Naima."

She opened her mouth to retort, but whatever sarcastic remark she'd been planning to throw at him was lost as his lips continued their descent. He kissed along the curve of her shoulder, then down to her chest, his teeth grazing her skin just enough to make her arch against him.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as she let out a shaky breath. "Shut up, Gill," she managed to say, her voice breaking as his mouth closed over her breast.

 The heat of his tongue against her skin sent a jolt of pleasure through her, making her toes curl.

Shubman chuckled softly against her, the sound vibrating against her skin. "Make me," he teased, though his actions made it clear he had no intention of stopping anytime soon.

 His hands gripped her waist, holding her steady as he continued to worship every inch of her. His kisses became more fervent, his teeth and tongue working in tandem to draw soft gasps and moans from her lips.

Naima felt like she was coming undone beneath him, every touch, every kiss unraveling her piece by piece. She pulled him closer, her nails dragging lightly down his back, leaving faint red marks on his skin. 

"God, Shubman," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

He lifted his head to look at her, his lips glistening, his breathing ragged. "You're mine," he said, his voice rough and filled with conviction as his hands gripped her thighs, pulling her closer to him.

 "Every bit of you."

Naima's breath hitched at the intensity in his voice, her body responding instinctively as she wrapped her legs around his waist. 

She reached up to cup his face, her gaze locking with his. "Yours," she whispered back, her voice steady despite the chaos inside her. "And you're mine."

His expression softened for a moment, the corner of his lips twitching into a small, almost shy smile before he claimed her mouth again, this time slower but no less passionate.

Shubman's lips began their descent, leaving a searing trail of kisses along her skin. Each press of his mouth felt deliberate, his movements slow and purposeful, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of her body. 

He paused at the hollow of her throat, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin, drawing a soft gasp from her lips.

Naima's hands were restless, moving over his shoulders, gripping at the taut muscles of his back as he worked his way lower. His lips brushed along her collarbone, then dipped lower, tracing the curve of her breast with maddening slowness.

 He paused to nip lightly at her ribcage, the sensation sharp but intoxicating, leaving her squirming beneath him.

"Shubman," she murmured, her voice breathless and laced with impatience.

He lifted his head slightly, a wicked grin tugging at his lips. "What is it, Prushka?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. "Getting impatient?"

Her cheeks flushed, a mix of arousal and frustration. "You know damn well what you're doing," she shot back, her tone attempting to be biting but faltering as his lips skimmed lower, brushing over the sensitive skin of her stomach.

He chuckled, his breath warm against her skin. "You like it," he countered, his hands gripping her hips firmly, holding her in place as he continued his exploration.

 His fingers hooked under the waistband of her bikini bottom, tugging it down slowly, teasingly, the fabric sliding over her skin with an almost agonizing slowness.

Naima's head fell back against the pillows, her fingers tangling in the sheets as his lips followed the path his hands had taken. 

The soft scrape of his stubble against her inner thigh made her shiver, her body arching slightly toward him as if seeking more.

Shubman looked up at her, his dark eyes locking with hers. There was an intensity there, a mix of desire and devotion that made her breath hitch.

 He pressed a kiss to her hipbone, lingering for a moment before murmuring against her skin, "You're beautiful, Naima."

Her heart swelled at the sincerity in his voice, even as her body burned with need. "Shubman," she whispered, her voice barely audible, her fingers reaching for him.

He responded not with words but with action, his lips traveling lower, his mouth exploring her with a reverence that made her entire body hum with pleasure.

 Every kiss, every flick of his tongue, was deliberate, his focus entirely on her and the reactions he was drawing from her.

Naima's breathing grew erratic, her hands flying to his hair, tugging gently as she felt herself losing control. "Oh my god," she managed to gasp, her body writhing beneath his touch.

Shubman's hands gripped her thighs, steadying her as his mouth continued its work, his movements becoming more confident, more insistent.

 He glanced up at her briefly, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he saw the effect he was having on her.

"You taste amazing," he murmured against her skin, his voice husky and thick with desire. The deep rasp of his words sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through her, and she couldn't hold back the soft cry that escaped her lips.

"Shubman, please," she begged, her voice breaking as her body trembled under his touch. The ache inside her grew unbearable, every nerve ending in her body alight with sensation.

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his lips glistening, his smile both playful and tender. "Say it again," he teased, his voice rough and full of pride. "Say my name."

She glared at him, though her flushed cheeks and trembling body betrayed how much she was enjoying his teasing. "Shubman," she breathed, her tone filled with both longing and command.

His grin widened, and he kissed her inner thigh one last time before rising, his body sliding over hers. 

As he leaned down to capture her lips again, she could taste herself on him, the intimacy of the moment sending her spiraling.

"Anything you want, Naima," he whispered against her lips, his hands framing her face as he pressed himself against her, the weight of his body grounding her as they lost themselves in each other again.

She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off again, leaning down to press a scorching kiss between her thighs. 

Naima gasped, her fingers clutching the couch as his tongue worked its magic, every stroke sending jolts of pleasure through her body.

"Shubman... oh my God..." she moaned, her head falling back as the heat between her legs built rapidly, overwhelming her senses. 

He didn't let up, his hands gripping her thighs tighter, pulling her closer as he devoured her with a ravenous hunger.

She felt herself unraveling, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. "Fuck... I'm gonna—" she gasped, her voice breaking as the orgasm crashed over her, her body trembling under his touch. 

Shubman growled against her skin, his hands holding her steady as she rode out the waves of pleasure.

When she finally came down from the high, she looked down at him, her body still trembling slightly.

 His lips were glistening, his eyes dark with lust as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"You taste like heaven," he murmured, his voice deep and husky as he climbed up to hover over her, his lips capturing hers in a rough, hungry kiss. 

She could taste herself on him, and it only made the heat between them burn hotter.

She tugged at the waistband of his pants, desperate to feel him. "I need you," she whispered, her voice shaky, filled with raw desire.

Shubman growled, pulling back just enough to yank his pants down, his hard length springing free. Naima's breath hitched at the sight of him, her body already aching with need.

He positioned himself between her legs, his forehead pressed against hers as he lined himself up at her entrance. 

"You ready for me, baby?" he whispered, his voice rough and filled with emotion.

She nodded, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "Yes... please."

With one slow, powerful thrust, he buried himself inside her, both of them moaning at the sensation.

 He filled her completely, stretching her in a way that made her gasp, her nails digging into his skin.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that drove her wild.

 His lips found her neck again, biting down lightly as he picked up the pace, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body.

"Shubman..." she moaned, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing more.

"I've got you, baby," he growled, his pace becoming frantic, his grip on her tightening. "Fuck, you're mine. All mine."

With one final, powerful thrust, they both reached their peak together, his name spilling from her lips as her body trembled under his.

 He groaned, burying his face in her neck as he released inside her, his body shaking with the intensity of it all.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, their bodies pressed together, both of them breathing heavily, coming down from the high.

The room was bathed in soft, golden light from the setting sun, the faint scent of ocean air still clinging to the sheets around them.

 Shubman lay next to Naima, his arm draped around her as she rested her head on his chest. 

His fingers absently traced patterns along her bare skin, the intimacy of the moment settling over them like a blanket. There was a serene quiet between them, the kind that only comes after something truly vulnerable has been shared.

Naima's body was still warm from their connection, her skin humming with the memory of his touch. 

She shifted slightly, tucking her face further into the crook of his neck, inhaling the fresh scent of his cologne mixed with the faint saltiness of his sweat and the lingering ocean breeze.

 She smiled softly, feeling completely at peace.

"You're ridiculous," she mumbled, her voice muffled against his skin. "You know that?"

Shubman chuckled, the sound deep and satisfied, like a man who had just gotten everything he wanted. "I know, baby," he replied, his voice low and soft. 

"But you love me anyway."

She lifted her head slightly to look at him, her dark eyes sparkling with affection despite the teasing tone. "You're a damn handful, Shubman Gill."

His grin was slow and lazy, his eyes half-lidded in the afterglow. "Yeah, but I'm your handful," he said, his voice dripping with playful confidence.

Naima rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "That's what you think. I'm just here for the ride, huh?"

"Always, baby," he murmured, his hand running through her hair, the strands soft and damp from their shared heat. "Can't imagine anyone else handling me the way you do."

Naima shifted again, her fingers running over his chest, drawing random patterns across the smooth expanse of skin.

 The room smelled like the sea, like the salt and warmth of the beach just outside, with a faint trace of their lingering scents — him, her, and the intimacy they'd just shared.

She rested her chin on his chest, glancing up at him with that same tender, half-amused look. "You're always so confident," she said, her voice soft. "You don't ever second-guess anything, do you?"

Shubman's gaze softened as he looked down at her, a quiet affection in his eyes. "No reason to," he said, his fingers trailing along the line of her jaw. 

"I've never been more sure of anything than I am of you. You're my everything, Naima."

Her heart fluttered at his words, a wave of warmth washing over her. She had always known how he felt, but hearing him say it out loud made something in her chest tighten. "You're such a sap," she teased, her lips curling into a smile.

His fingers traced the curve of her spine as he pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her forehead. "Yeah, well," he said with a mock sigh, "I'm yours. Totally, hopelessly yours."

Naima snorted softly, her laughter light and carefree. "God, you really are a handful," she murmured, but her voice softened as she added, "But I kind of love it."

Shubman chuckled, his arms tightening around her. "I'm lucky you do," he said, kissing the top of her head.

 "Not everyone can handle me. But you..." He paused, his lips curling into a smile. "You're perfect for me, Naima."

She couldn't help the flush that crept up her neck at his words, but she buried her face in his chest, grateful for the sense of intimacy that wrapped around them both. 

The softness of the sheets beneath them, the coolness of the evening air creeping in through the open window, and the warmth of his body next to hers was everything she'd ever wanted.

Shubman shifted slightly, his lips finding her forehead again in a gentle kiss. "I've never felt like this before," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not with anyone."

Her fingers traced lazy patterns across his chest, her voice quieter now, softer. "Me neither," she admitted, her heart beating in sync with his. 

"It's... like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."

He smiled down at her, a soft, satisfied look on his face. "I'll always be here, baby," he promised, his lips brushing over her temple. "Always."

Naima's eyes closed for a moment, feeling the sincerity of his words settle deep within her. 

She knew they were at the beginning of something special — something they would both hold onto, no matter where life took them.

 There was a calm in his presence, a peace she hadn't realized she was missing until now.

"You're mine too," she whispered, her voice barely audible as she let herself drift further into the comfort of him, the sound of the ocean waves crashing faintly in the distance, mixing with the rhythm of their breathing.

"Always, Naima," he responded, his arms tightening around her as if to seal the promise.

And in that moment, with the world outside fading into nothing, they both knew that they had found something rare, something worth cherishing.

Welcome to the twentieth chapter of "The Man"!
so um that happened
so hot

what are your thoughts about the next chapter?
anyway, hope y'all enjoyed this chapter!
make sure to comment on what you liked!

until then, yours truly
soup 🫶