He didn’t move from beneath her for a long time. His hands stayed on her hips, his breathing a steady, warm rhythm against her neck. The sun climbed higher, baking the field. The air grew thick and humid. Saanvi’s body, still pulsing from her climax, was slick with sweat where their skin touched. The fancy silk of her saree was a ruined, crumpled mess beneath them, stained with their fluids.

“You said you needed more,” Rohan murmured, his voice a low rumble in his chest. His fingers traced idle patterns on her bare back. “Was that a lie, meri rani?”