By the time the sun began to sink toward the dunes, Priya’s body was a map of everything Ramesh had done to her.

Her thighs were marked with faint bruises from his hands. Her nipples were swollen and dark from being sucked and bitten. Between her legs she was soft, puffy, and continuously wet—his come and her own slick mixed into a constant, slow leak that forced her to keep a small folded cloth between her thighs whenever she stood. He had kept his word. The entire morning and most of the afternoon had been spent on the charpoy or the floor of her room: his cock buried deep, his mouth sealed over her cunt, his fingers stretching her open again and again until she lost count of how many times she had come.