The monsoon had come and gone, leaving the Rajasthan earth cracked and thirsty again. Inside the haveli walls, however, the air always felt thick—humid with sweat, cum, and the constant scent of sex. Meera and Riya now moved through the days like shadows of each other. They slept in the same bed, ate from the same plate at Rudra’s feet, bathed together under his watchful eyes. Their bodies bore matching marks: faint whip lines on their asses, bite bruises on their inner thighs, nipples perpetually sore from his rough mouth. They no longer cried every night. They moaned instead.

One morning Rudra announced it casually, while Meera sucked his dick under the breakfast table and Riya knelt beside her, licking his balls.