Layers of Us

Chapter 98: Milan Abhi Aadha Adhura Hai❤️

Morning had tiptoed quietly into the room like it didn’t want to disturb the lovers cocooned within.

It was past 10 AM, and the sun filtered in through sheer curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the bed.

The world outside was already buzzing — birds, breeze, and life in general — but inside this suite, time had decided to pause. Just for them.

Thankfully, their call time was at 2 today.

Ram Kapoor was the first to stir. Barely. His eyes cracked open, adjusting to the warm sunlight kissing the edge of the bed. But he didn’t move, not yet. He didn’t need to — not when he was comfortably tucked behind Tripura, who was still in deep sleep, her breath slow and even, her body warm and completely melded into his.

His arm was draped over her waist, protective and possessive. The silk of her nightwear was cool against his skin, but the woman inside? She was his personal furnace.

Ram smiled to himself — lazily, contentedly — and reached toward the bedside table, grabbing the phone without disturbing her.

He ordered breakfast with minimal fuss: fresh croissants, butter, eggs, juice, coffee. A plate of parathas too — just in case.

And then he slid right back into the bed, tucking himself behind her once again like two perfect puzzle pieces.

Only now, there was a wicked glint in his eye.

Because snuggling was nice… but snuggling with a side of mischief?

Even better.

His palm found her waist again, this time slipping under the edge of her silk top with practiced ease. His touch was cold — having been out of the blanket for a few moments — but her skin was warm, supple, delicious.

He slid his hand gently, slowly, over the curve of her waist to her belly, and then higher — fingers mapping the soft terrain of her bare skin beneath the fabric. Her body stirred slightly, not fully waking, just a little twitch, a murmur.

“Ram…” she mumbled groggily. “Sone dijiye na…”

He grinned silently.

Oh no, madame. Not this morning.

He dipped his head and nuzzled her hair, whispering against her ear, “You’ve been sleeping too long. My arms are bored.”

She whined something incomprehensible and tried to push his hand away lazily — her palm against his knuckles, not even with real intent.

That just made him double down.

Suddenly, his fingers shifted tactics and started to tickle her gently — right around her navel where he knew she was the most ticklish.

Tripura squirmed instantly, letting out a squeak, still half-asleep, trying to trap his hand.

“Ram!” she giggled, twisting in place.

But he was relentless. “Wakey wakey, Mrs. Kapoor,” he teased, biting back his own laughter.

Within seconds, she turned fully to face him, pouting through sleepy eyes, her cheeks pink from the tickles and her hair a beautifully chaotic mess. “You’re evil,” she muttered.

“I’m hungry,” he replied with a shrug, eyes fixed on her face.

“For food?”

“No,” he said — and before she could make another sound, he closed the gap and kissed her.