The penthouse basked in the soft, golden haze of Mumbai's morning sun, filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows like a lover's tentative caress, casting elongated shadows across the marble floors that still held the chill of the night. Ishani stirred slowly in the her room's bed, her body awakening in layers—first the subtle ache between her thighs from the dreams that had plagued her sleep, visions of Virat's massive form pinning her down, his thick cock stretching her walls in relentless thrusts, filling her with hot spurts that left her dripping and sated. At 23, her pregnancy had begun to weave its subtle magic through her veins, though she attributed the tenderness in her breasts and the faint nausea to the emotional turmoil that had become her constant companion. The sheets clung to her skin, damp from the sweat of restless slumber, the loose kurta riding up her thighs to expose the curve where her ass met her legs, the fabric whispering against her sensitized flesh as she shifted. Her nipples, already pebbled from the cool air conditioning, brushed the cotton in a way that sent unwelcome sparks of arousal straight to her core, a traitorous reminder of how his mouth had latched onto them just days ago, sucking harshly until they throbbed like second heartbeats.