Love Unscripted

48. Nihayati Besharam

Y/N's POV

I was pulled out of my sleep, feeling a warm weight on my chest. Sleepily, I opened my eyes to see Naseem's face buried on my chest, his arms wrapped around me, hands resting under the shirt I was wearing—which, of course, was his. Our legs were tangled together, and I felt a sleepy smile spread across my face as I took in the scene.

I traced my fingers gently along his face, feeling every line and curve as a wide grin spread across my own. My cheeks flushed, a warm, pink hue spreading as memories from last night played in my mind. Every moment, every touch, felt fresh and vivid, like little sparks dancing under my skin.

Naseem stirred slightly, his lashes fluttering before his eyes slowly opened, catching me in the act of admiring him. A lazy smile crept onto his face, and he tightened his hold around me, pulling me closer.

"Good morning, beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. Embarrassed, I quickly buried my face into his neck, feeling my cheeks warm.

"Morning," I mumbled shyly against his skin, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

"Sharma rahi hain kya, jaan?" he teased, a playful glint in his still-sleepy eyes. His fingers traced gentle circles on my back, and he tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Ab sharmane ka kya faida jab maine sab kuch dekh hi liya," he whispered huskily in my ear, his voice soft but teasing, a smirk playing on his lips.

I groaned, cheeks flushing with embarrassment, and lightly smacked his chest. "Kitne besharam ho rahe hain aap, Naseem."

"Apni biwi ke saath besharam hone me kya harz hai!" he murmured, pulling me closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Aur waise bhi aapke saath toh hum nihayati besharam hone ko bhi taiyaar hain."

I felt my cheeks flush even more as he brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my skin. He leaned in, his lips hovering near mine, teasingly close, but I put my hand on my lips, stopping hum from kissing. He furrowed his brows.

"You can't kiss me right now," I said, looking everywhere but at him.

He raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on his lips. "Aur yeh kaisi pabandi hai, madam?" he asked, amusement evident in his tone.

I bit my lip, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "Because… my breath must be terrible right now," I mumbled, half-embarrassed.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Aapko lagta hai yeh chiz mujhe rok sakti hai? If yes, then you're very wrong jaan" he whispered, gently removing my hand from my lips.

Without waiting for another word, he leaned in, his lips capturing mine in a soft, lingering kiss that made my heart race and my worries melt away.

The kiss was slow and passionate, our tongue fighting each other for dominance, his hand as always slipped inside the shirt and trailed up to my breast and started squeezing them, but I held his hand midway. He pulled away from the kiss and looked at me confused.

"I got sore breast from... last night," I admitted, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment as I struggled to meet his gaze.

"Huh!" He asked, looking more confused and curious.

"Though you were soft last night, but you went a little... um... rough with them," I stammered, my cheeks burning as I recalled the intensity of our last night encounter.

His lips curved into a smirk as he caught my meaning, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Arey, aisa kya? But ab mai bhi kya hi kar sakta hu when they look and taste so delicious."