"You told me you're hungry, nah?" Shubman asked, pulling away from the hug and kissing your cheek. "I'll make something for you."

"We might wake Shahneel up," you said, sliding off the kitchen island.

"Then let's use the other kitchen," he held your hand, leading you through the hallways and to the other side of the mansion.

His sister wasn't going to hear anything from this kitchen.

You could demolish an entire city in her sleep and she still wouldn't know a thing.

Shubman waited on you hand and foot. And if this was going to assure you, he was more than willing to do it.

"And your chef is ready, ma'am," he said in a professional tone, picking you up by your waist and placing you on the counter.

He pecked your lips and pulled away, brushing the tip of his nose with yours, making you smile.

"What would you like to eat?" He kept his arms around your waist, his dimples visible as he looked at you thinking.

"Anything?" You asked and he pecked your lips again.

"Anything," he repeated. Mama Gill didn't raise a culinarily challenged son.

You thought of noodles but you already ate it for dinner, along with croissants before you went to bed.

"Butter chicken," you finally said. There was no harm in eating chicken in the middle of the night.

Anytime is a good time for food.

"At your command," Shubman said playfully, kissing your cheek before he moved away.

He turned a few lights on, grabbing the needed ingredients and kitchen utensils.

"My dad used to make it for mom all the time," he said as he opened the refrigerator to get the frozen chicken out.

"They surely raised the best person," you remarked absent-mindedly, staring at him. "Do they still live in Mohali?"

Shahneel has mentioned to you long back.

"Not anymore," Shubman answered, placing the pan on top of the stove. "They moved back to Fazilka after I took control of this place."

But he still had the sole claim over his home state, like he did over most places in the country.

His parents liked staying in Fazilka so he bought them a palace there.

And of course, he had placed tight security in and out the property.

As a kid, Shubman has seen the way his father's eyes would light up every time they passed by that palace.

So he decided to always keep the same light and happiness in his father's eyes by buying him the stately home.

He just chose Goa to operate from because, for some reason, he has always loved the place.

Now that he thinks about it again, he wonders if it was the universe giving him a sign. He met you here after all.

You watched as Shubman moved around the kitchen effortlessly, adding the right amount of spices, prepping the marinade for the chicken, chopping the vegetables and kissing you every two minutes.

And you had no clue what was happening.

You didn't know how to cook. Unless someone wanted to die of food poisoning, that is.

If preparing Maggi is considered as cooking, then yes, you know how to cook.

Maybe that's one of the reasons why your mother didn't like you.

In your defense, neither did she nor anyone else teach you.

And if you tried something by yourself or with the guidance of the internet, you messed up the quantity in which certain things had to be added.

You add either too much or too little.

Like that first time you tried making tomato soup and your mother poured the boiling thing over your hand.

Maybe she despised you because you couldn't cook, hence being another burden on her.

Shaking that thought out of your head, you returned to your sightseeing. I mean, just watching Shubman.

Or in simple words, checking him out.

"What's that for?" You asked as he held a glass in his hand.

"Lemonade," he answered, leaning towards you for a quick kiss. "One of the best beverages to pair with chicken."

He wanted to make you aloo parathas too. But it was not the best to eat right before sleeping.

They were heavy food and had to be eaten at least four to five hours before sleep.

Lemonade on the other hand, is recommended to be drunk even right before bed as it is a good way to stay hydrated.

"Can I have you for dessert though?" You slipped in casually.

Shubman looked at you for a few seconds, turned the stove to simmer, and then walked to you.

"At your command," he repeated those words again before capturing your lips with his.

On cue, your arms wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling him closer.

It was like all the other times you had both kissed. Gentle touching of your lips, a million happy thoughts in your minds, as you held each other.

But it still felt like the first time you both were kissing.

Your fingers traced random patterns on his nape, eyes closing as you felt yourself be pushed back a little.

Holding the edge of the counter with one hand, you wrapped your legs around his torso.

Shubman leaned over slightly while his tongue swiped over your lower lip.

Your mouth parted just a little and you became aware of the foreign feeling in your mouth.

His tongue ribbed yours and you heard yourself letting out a sound.

Like a matchstick, you started the fire into flame; lips in a hot kiss, warm touch and your warm bodies enough to burn the whole house down.

In contrast to the heat you were feeling at the moment, technically the past few minutes, chills ran down your spine.

Shubman's lips trailed down to your neck and your arms slid around him in a frenzy.

He kissed the base of your throat, one of his hands sliding under your t-shirt to caress your bare waist.

Chills racked your body again as he moved to kiss the side of your neck, burying his face there.

Your mouth felt dry every time your lips were away from each other, but that was long forgotten when his teeth nipped at your skin.

You were oxygen and Shubman was dying to breathe.

With an arm wrapped around your waist, his free hand cupped the side of your face, caressing it before he bit down on your skin.

Every sound around you was deadened but the moan came out clear enough.

Hearing you, he licked the spot once before his mouth latched to your neck again, sucking on it.

Your hands ran through the hair at the back of his head, and you felt him smile against your skin.

His hand was still under your t-shirt, raising goosebumps up your skin as he dragged his touch across your back, caressing it.

You felt like you were on thin ice. You were not aware of the consequences.

But you knew one thing. It felt like even if you tried moving an inch away, the ice would shatter.

You did not want to move. You wanted to let the frost be, to let Shubman's touch be still on your back as he caressed it.

His arm that was around your waist tightened, his head moving as his lips grazed your neck.

You clutched the soft material of his t-shirt in your fists, leaning towards him as his teeth dug into your skin again, sucking and nibbling, leaving fresh bruises behind.

It felt like a few seconds as well as an eternity was over when he pulled away from your neck. In reality, it had been only five minutes.

You were breathing heavily, hands sliding down his chest, feeling the thumping beat of his heart as you stared at his swollen lips.

Once your breathing finally calmed, Shubman removed his hand that was under your t-shirt, holding your waist instead. "Dessert," he said in a husky, erotic whisper.

Dessert before the meal? Chronological error.

"I thought that was the main course," you spoke up.