Sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains of the master suite. Priya stirred slowly, her body aching in the most intimate places. Her pussy felt swollen and tender, sticky with dried cum. Marks from Vikram’s fingers and mouth decorated her breasts and neck. She winced as she sat up, the satin nightie tangled around her waist.

Vikram was already awake, standing by the large window in a crisp white shirt and dark trousers, typing on his phone. He looked every bit the powerful CEO—cold, composed, untouchable. He glanced at her briefly, eyes flicking over her disheveled, well-fucked appearance.