The air in the living room clung to Sarita’s damp skin, thick with the scent of sweat and sex, the ceiling fan spinning uselessly above. Her chest heaved as she lay sprawled across the couch, limbs heavy, her pussy still throbbing from the last orgasm they’d wrung out of her. The cousins loomed over her—Aarav’s fingers tracing lazy circles on her inner thigh, Rohan’s jaw clenched as he watched her with dark, hungry eyes, and Dev, already half-hard again, his cock twitching as he kneaded her hip.

Sarita’s breath hitched when Aarav’s thumb pressed just above her clit, not quite touching where she ached. “You think you’re done?” His voice was low, rough with amusement. “We’re just getting started.”