The headlights cut across the study like searchlights sweeping a prison yard. Poonam’s cunt was still spasming around empty air where Vijay’s cock had just been—thick, hot, stretching her open like nothing Rajesh had ever managed. One more thrust and he would have painted her womb white. Instead, he froze balls-deep, hand clamped over her mouth so hard her lips bruised against his palm.

Rajesh’s voice drifted up from the foyer, cheerful and clueless. “Papa? You up? Left the damn ledger downstairs again.”