This story is about Ranbir and Prachi
Ranbir Kohli
A Mafia King who loved his wife so much
He was a very possessive man
He was a powerful man
Prachi Kohli
She was a sweetheart
She loved her husband dearly
But what happens when Anurag Ranbir'...
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Days turned into weeks, and Prachi and Ranbir's relationship continued to blossom in ways neither of them had anticipated. There was a newfound ease between them—a comfort that came from shared laughter, thoughtful gestures, and the quiet moments they spent together.
It was a Sunday morning. Ranbir stirred in his sleep, his hand reaching out instinctively for Prachi—only to find the space beside him empty. He jolted awake in a panic.
"Prachi!" he called out, his voice laced with urgency.
Prachi, who was brushing her teeth in the washroom, jumped at the sudden shout. "Ranbir! Main aapko chhodungi nahi," she said with a mouthful of foam, eyes wide. "Aapki wajah se main dar gayi!"
Ranbir sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "How many times have I told you not to leave me alone in bed in the morning? God, I need you to be the first thing I see when I wake up."
Prachi glared at him, toothbrush still in hand, clearly unimpressed.
"Well, I'm going to take a bath. Bye!" Prachi announced with a teasing smile, disappearing into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her.
Ranbir smirked, already feeling the heat rise in his chest. A bath with my wife? Now that sounded like the perfect start to a Sunday.
Without wasting another second, he kicked off the covers and quickly stripped off his clothes. He slipped into the bathroom quietly, only to be met with the most breathtaking sight—Prachi, completely bare under the warm stream of the shower, water cascading down her glowing skin.
He stepped in silently, his eyes devouring her curves before she even noticed him.
When she finally turned, startled, he was already there.
He pinned her gently against the cool glass, drawing a gasp from her lips as the contrast of his warmth and the cold surface sent a shiver down her spine. The shower poured over them, steam curling around their bodies.
Ranbir leaned in, his lips brushing her damp neck. He kissed her slowly, deeply, before finding that spot that always made her breath catch—he sucked gently, pulling a soft moan from her.
His hand found her waist, pulling her closer, skin to skin, until there was no space left between them. Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers threading into his wet hair, anchoring him closer.
"Oh, fuck, Prachi," he whispered against her skin, voice husky and low. "How can you be so beautiful... and all mine?"
Before she could respond, he slid into her in one slow, intense thrust. Her gasp echoed in the steamy bathroom.
"Ran...bir, what—" she managed, voice breathy, before he moved deeper, making her cry out again.
"Fuck, baby... I love being inside you," he growled against her lips, his voice dark, full of need.
