The light in the living room had turned gold and soft by the time Rajendra finally set the newspaper aside.

Ananya was still seated on his cock, fully impaled, her thighs trembling from hours of being kept open and full. A slow, continuous trickle of cum had been leaking from her for so long that the fabric of his pyjamas was dark and soaked beneath her. Her clit felt swollen and raw. Her nipples ached from the cool air and the earlier pinching. She had come three more times since the last one he had forced out of her—each time asking permission first in a broken voice, each time begging the way he required, each time staying fully seated while her cunt pulsed and spilled around the thick shaft that never left her body.