The grandfather clock in the drawing room struck 4:00 p.m. James’s flight was due to land at 5:45 p.m. He’d texted again at 3:12: Just landed in Delhi. Taking the expressway. Should be home by 6:30–7:00 latest. Can’t wait to see my beautiful wife. ❤️

Sophia stared at the message until the screen blurred. Her body still ached from the dawn double penetration—ass tender and stretched, cunt swollen and leaking slow trickles of Victor’s morning load even after she’d showered twice. She’d dressed carefully: a simple maroon Anarkali suit, dupatta draped modestly, hair pinned in a neat bun, light makeup to hide the dark circles and the faint bite marks on her neck. She looked every inch the dutiful, loving bahu waiting for her husband.