18-01-2026, 02:24 PM
(This post was last modified: 19-01-2026, 10:51 AM by osthir_aami. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Chapter 8: The Morning After
Riya woke to the smell of coffee and the sensation of someone watching her. She opened her eyes to find Rohan sitting beside her on the bed, a tray in his hands.
"Good morning," he said, smiling.
She sat up, the sheet pooling around her waist. "What time is it?"
"Almost noon. You were exhausted."
She took the coffee he offered, their fingers brushing. The memory of the night flooded back—the intensity, the pleasure, the sheer abandon.
"About last night..." she began.
"Was incredible," he finished. "And no one needs to know unless you want them to."
She sipped her coffee, studying him. In the daylight, he looked different—still handsome, still compelling, but more real. The perfect fantasy of the night before now had morning breath and rumpled hair.
"Rohan," she said carefully. "What is this?"
He took her free hand, his thumb stroking her palm. "Whatever you want it to be. Friendship with benefits. A secret affair. Something more. You decide."
The honesty disarmed her. Rasel had never given her choices, only demands.
"I need time to think," she said.
"Take all the time you need." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "But know this—last night wasn't just sex for me. Not with you."
After breakfast—which Rohan cooked while wearing only pajama bottoms, much to Riya's distracted pleasure—she returned to her apartment. The empty silence felt different now, filled with memory rather than loneliness.
She showered, the water washing away the physical evidence of the night but not the memory. Her body felt pleasantly sore in places she hadn't known could feel that way.
Her phone buzzed with a message from Rohan: Thinking of you.
She smiled, typing back: Me too.
Thus began their secret affair.
Riya woke to the smell of coffee and the sensation of someone watching her. She opened her eyes to find Rohan sitting beside her on the bed, a tray in his hands.
"Good morning," he said, smiling.
She sat up, the sheet pooling around her waist. "What time is it?"
"Almost noon. You were exhausted."
She took the coffee he offered, their fingers brushing. The memory of the night flooded back—the intensity, the pleasure, the sheer abandon.
"About last night..." she began.
"Was incredible," he finished. "And no one needs to know unless you want them to."
She sipped her coffee, studying him. In the daylight, he looked different—still handsome, still compelling, but more real. The perfect fantasy of the night before now had morning breath and rumpled hair.
"Rohan," she said carefully. "What is this?"
He took her free hand, his thumb stroking her palm. "Whatever you want it to be. Friendship with benefits. A secret affair. Something more. You decide."
The honesty disarmed her. Rasel had never given her choices, only demands.
"I need time to think," she said.
"Take all the time you need." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "But know this—last night wasn't just sex for me. Not with you."
After breakfast—which Rohan cooked while wearing only pajama bottoms, much to Riya's distracted pleasure—she returned to her apartment. The empty silence felt different now, filled with memory rather than loneliness.
She showered, the water washing away the physical evidence of the night but not the memory. Her body felt pleasantly sore in places she hadn't known could feel that way.
Her phone buzzed with a message from Rohan: Thinking of you.
She smiled, typing back: Me too.
Thus began their secret affair.
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