
“On your knees,” Virat repeated, voice low and dangerous.
Ishani’s legs gave out before she could think. The maroon silk of the saree pooled around her knees as she knelt in front of him, the petticoat riding up her thighs. Her heart hammered wildly as she looked up at him — the devil in black, towering over her in her tiny hostel room, eyes burning with raw, savage hunger.








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