Virat’s mouth left a final, lingering trail of heat down the center of her stomach tongue dipping into her navel one last time, sucking the soft skin until it bloomed red before he rose above her, eyes black with satisfaction and something darker, more possessive.

He reached for the ruined saree now soaked through with his cum, her wetness, their shared sweat and peeled it away in one slow, deliberate tug. The wet silk slid off her body like a shed skin, leaving her bare except for the tiny lace panties clinging to her hips and the marital jewelry that still adorned her: sindoor stark against her forehead, small mangalsutra nestled deep between her swollen breasts, longer one tangled across her stomach, dark red chooda climbing her wrists, platinum ring glinting on her finger, payal chiming faintly with every trembling breath.