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THIRD POV
The door lock jiggled, and with a satisfying click, it opened. In walked Shobhana and Shubman, practically glued together, their lips locked in a fiery kiss.
Shubman's hands were securely wrapped around her waist, and Shobhana's fingers were buried in his hair, tugging him closer, if that was even possible. It was clear—these two weren't letting go anytime soon.
As they stumbled into the living room, still kissing like it was their last chance at love, Shobhana's sling bag slipped off her shoulder and landed on the floor with a soft thud.
But neither of them seemed to notice as Shubman took a step back, his eyes dark with desire, before effortlessly pushing her onto the couch.
His lips never left hers, and the sound of her breath catching in pleasure sent shivers down his spine.
His photographer.
The thought made his heart swell. She wasn't just a woman; she was everything. And he wasn't about to let her slip away, not again.
"Ugh, this couch is too comfy for my liking," Shubman muttered between kisses, his hands wandering down to the hem of her shirt.
She let out a little laugh, but it quickly morphed into a moan as his lips trailed down to her neck.
"Shubman, you—ohh," she gasped, trying to hold onto his chest but losing her grip as his lips continued their torturous path.
"Stop it, I'm going to—"
"You're going to what, lovebug?" he smirked against her skin, as he felt her legs wrap around his waist like she was trying to fuse with him.
"You're gonna melt into me?"
"Shut up, you dork," she giggled, a bit breathless. "If you keep doing that, I'll turn into goo."
"Well, I am your personal goo maker, aren't I?" Shubman teased, his lips finding hers again in a kiss that left them both breathless.
The room seemed to spin as they finally managed to break away for air. Shobhana's hands found their way to his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, making him groan in satisfaction.
