Sinful Love ✔️

BONUS CHAPTER #4

Kiana’s POV

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, painting golden lines across Ayaan’s bare shoulders. My heartbeat still raced from the storm we’d just created together, the air thick with warmth and the faint scent of his cologne and our mingled breaths.

Ayaan collapsed against me, skin slick with sweat, our hearts finding the same rhythm. For a few silent moments, neither of us spoke—just the sound of our heavy breathing filling the space between us.

“Good morning, Tigress,” he murmured, voice rough and low. He shifted beside me, drawing me close until my cheek rested against his chest. His lips brushed my forehead, tender and possessive. I tugged the duvet higher around us.

“What sort of morning is this?” I teased, knowing the answer from the playful smirk already curling on his lips.

“This,” he said shamelessly, “is a healthy morning. We burn calories and keep our stamina in check.” His tone made my stomach flutter, and his hand traced slow circles on my back—innocence nowhere in sight.

“Too full of words,” I huffed.

“Of course,” he replied, grin deepening. “That’s why I fill you too, baby.” He pressed lazy kisses along my neck, lingering where faint bruises bloomed from his earlier devotion.

“Come on, get up. We have to wake our babies,” I said, ruffling his hair. But, true to his nature, he tightened his arms around me instead of letting go.

This was nothing new—my husband, the world’s most feared businessman, turned into the softest, clingiest man whenever I tried to move away. I knew how to handle him though; Ayaan Dawson had his weaknesses.

“Jaan, if you get up,” I whispered, tilting his chin, “you might get a strip show tonight.”

His eyes instantly lit up, wide and gleaming like a child offered candy. I couldn’t help but laugh. Who said my man was dangerous? He was dangerously cute.

“You promise, Tigress?” he asked, those mischievous eyes turning pleading.

“I promise,” I said, kissing his forehead.

“You’d better be ready, because tonight I’m not holding back,” he murmured, eyes darkening. Sitting up, the duvet pooled around his hips, revealing the red traces my nails had left on his back. Guilt tugged at me.

“Jaan, your back—it must be burning from my nails. There’s even a little blood,” I said, tracing the marks with soft fingers.

He caught my hand and pulled me onto his lap, smirking. “Tigress, stop worrying. It’s not the first time. Besides, I love this kind of pain when it’s given by you.”

“Ayaan, but—” I began, only for him to cut me off with a look.

“Do you really want me to start again, hmm? Because if I do, you won’t be meeting the kids anytime soon. Don’t tempt me; I’m barely holding it together,” he said in that husky, teasing tone, his fingers drawing invisible circles at the base of my spine.

I bit my lip, grabbed the spare duvet, and tried to escape. But before I could take a step, his hand caught mine and his lips captured mine in a kiss that made the world disappear. His mouth moved against mine with practiced tenderness and hunger; my fingers clutched his bicep, trying not to melt completely.

When we finally broke apart, our foreheads rested together, breaths mingling.
“I love you, Tigress,” he whispered, pressing one last kiss to my skin.

Blushing furiously, I slipped away to the bathroom, letting the cool water calm the heat still simmering beneath my skin. I wrapped myself in a white saree afterward, simple yet elegant, my mangalsutra resting against my collarbone. When I stepped out, the room was empty.