The challenge hung in the air, charged and electric. Rishabh looked from one woman to the other. Naysa, fierce and familiar, her curves a landscape of past passion and present fury. Bhagyashree, voluptuous and new, her body a promised land of recent discovery. The thrill of the choice, the raw power of it, surged through him.

He reached out, but not towards Naysa. His hand found Bhagyashree’s, and he pulled her to him, crushing his mouth against hers in a searing, wet kiss.

Naysa’s hand fell away from his cock as if she’d been burned. The fire in her eyes didn’t extinguish; it turned ice-cold.

“Bhagya,” Rishabh murmured against her lips. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

A triumphant, smug smile spread across Bhagyashree’s face as she looked over Rishabh’s shoulder at Naysa. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Fuck me, Rishabh. Fuck me like you mean it. Show her who your wife is.”

Rishabh laid her back on the bed, spreading her legs and positioning himself between them. He didn’t look back at Naysa. He guided his cock to Bhagya’s waiting entrance, and with a single, powerful thrust, he was inside her again, claiming her.

Naysa watched, her jealousy a physical pain in her chest, a hot, coiling knot. She saw the way his muscles tightened with each movement, heard the wet, slapping sound of their bodies joining, saw the pure ecstasy on Bhagyashree’s face.

“Yes! Oh god, Rishabh! Right there!” Bhagya cried out, her fingers clawing at his back.

“You like that, don’t you?” Rishabh grunted, his pace increasing, becoming more frantic. “You love taking my cock.”

“I love it! I love your fucking cock! It’s mine!” Bhagyashree’s voice was a sultry, desperate cry, her body writhing beneath Rishabh’s powerful thrusts. Her nails dug into his back, leaving raw, red trails as she clung to him, pulling him deeper with every movement. The room was filled with the wet, primal sound of their bodies colliding, a symphony of lust that drowned out everything else. “You feel so good inside me, Rishabh. So damn good. I never want you to stop.”

His cock stretched her open, filling her completely, and she could feel every inch of him as he pistoned in and out. “Tell me again,” Rishabh growled, his voice low and gravelly with desire. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss before pulling back to watch her face. “Tell me who it belongs to.” “It’s mine!” she gasped, her head thrashing against the pillow as another wave of pleasure crashed over her. “Your cock is mine, Rishabh! I’m the one who gets to feel you like this, who gets to take all of you. No one else.” Her pussy clenched around him, milking his length with an almost painful intensity, as if her body was trying to claim him permanently.

Bhagyashree’s legs tightened around his waist, her heels pressing into the small of his back as she urged him deeper. “Fuck me harder, Rishabh. I want to feel you ruin me. I want to feel you claim me as yours forever.” Her words were heavy with possessiveness, each syllable dripping with a need that bordered on desperation. She could see Naysa watching from the corner of the room, but she didn’t care. This moment was hers, and nothing could take it away.

Rishabh obliged, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more punishing. The bed creaked beneath them, the sound mingling with their shared cries of pleasure. “You’re so fucking tight, Bhagya,” he groaned, his grip on her hips tightening as he drove her closer to the edge. “I can’t get enough of you. I could fuck you like this every damn day and never get tired of it.”

“Yes! Yes! Fuck me like that!” Bhagyashree cried, her voice breaking as another orgasm began to build. She could feel it creeping up her spine, a slow, delicious burn that threatened to consume her entirely. “I’m yours, Rishabh. Always yours. Your cock is mine, and my pussy is yours. No one else gets to have this. No one.” Her body arched off the bed, every nerve on fire as she teetered on the brink of ecstasy.

Rishabh’s pace quickened, his own release just moments away. “You’re mine, Bhagya,” he growled, his voice thick with possession. “Your pussy, your moans, your screams—they’re all mine. And this cock? It’s yours. Only yours.” With one final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, his body shuddering as he spilled himself inside her. Bhagyashree screamed his name, her own climax crashing over her in tandem, a tidal wave of pleasure that left her trembling and breathless.

The room fell silent except for their ragged breathing, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat. Bhagyashree looked up at him, her eyes glassy but triumphant. “I told you,” she whispered hoarsely, a smug smile playing on her lips. “Your cock is mine.”

Naysa couldn’t take it. The sight of him fucking another woman, choosing her, praising her—it was an agony she hadn’t anticipated. Her own pussy was dripping, aching with a need that was entirely ignored. She was a spectator in her own war.

She moved closer to the foot of the bed, her eyes glued to where their bodies met. She watched his length disappear into Bhagya’s depths, the way her pink flesh stretched to accommodate him.

“You see how he fucks me, Naysa?” Bhagya taunted, her voice breathy with pleasure. “You see how deep he goes? He’s mine now.”

Rishabh’s rhythm was becoming erratic, his thrusts losing their precision as his climax built. “I’m close, Bhagya… I’m so fucking close.”

“Don’t you dare come yet,” Naysa’s voice cut through the room, sharp and commanding. Both of them stilled for a fraction of a second. “You will not come inside her.”

Rishabh groaned in frustration, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. “Naysa, for fuck’s sake—”

“Pull out,” she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You made your choice. You want to fuck her? Fine. But your climax… that belongs to me. You will pull that beautiful, hard cock out of her desperate cunt and you will give your come to me. Do you understand?”

Bhagyashree’s triumphant expression faltered, replaced by a look of sheer outrage. “No! Rishabh, don’t you fucking dare!”

The conflict on Rishabh’s face was a war between obedience to a new wife and the raw, undeniable pull of his first. The power Naysa still wielded, even in defeat, was a potent aphrodisiac.

“Do it, Rishabh,” Naysa whispered, her voice dropping to a husky, irresistible promise. “Pull out of her greedy little pussy and come all over my face. Let her watch you make a mess of me. Let her see who really controls your pleasure.”

His resolve broke. With a ragged groan, Rishabh withdrew from Bhagyashree’s warmth, his cock springing free, slick and gleaming. He stood over Naysa, his chest heaving, his entire being focused on the point of no return.

Naysa looked up at him, her blazing eyes full of victory even in her submission. She opened her mouth, her tongue darting out.

“Fuck, Naysa,” he gasped, and his hand pumped his shaft once, twice.

The first hot, thick pulse hit her tongue, and Naysa’s eyes fluttered shut as the taste of him exploded in her mouth. It was hers, every drop of it, and she savored the salty, bitter tang like a woman starved. Her lips wrapped tight around the swollen tip, sucking him greedily as his orgasm surged, each rope of cum painting the back of her throat. "Yes, Rishabh," she moaned against his shaft, her voice muffled but dripping with satisfaction. "Give it all to me. Every last drop."

Bhagyashree watched from the bed, her chest heaving, her pussy still pulsing with the aftershocks of her own climax. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, even as the scene twisted a knife of jealousy deep into her heart. "How… how could you?" she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and fury. But neither Rishabh nor Naysa paid her any attention. This moment wasn’t about her. It was about them.

Rishabh’s hips jerked forward involuntarily, his cock sliding deeper into Naysa’s mouth as another wave of pleasure wracked his body. "Fuck! Fuck, Naysa!" he groaned, his fingers tangling in her hair, holding her in place as he emptied himself completely. His knees nearly buckled under the intensity of the sensation, and he had to brace himself against the wall to keep from collapsing. "You’re… you’re incredible."

Naysa didn’t stop until she was sure she’d drained him dry, her tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock to collect every last drop. When she finally pulled back, her lips were slick and glistening, her chin smeared with the evidence of his release. She looked up at him, her eyes dark with triumph and a hunger that had yet to be satiated. "You’re mine, Rishabh," she said softly, her voice low but laced with steel. "No matter who you’re fucking, no matter where you are… you’ll always come back to me."

Bhagyashree sat up abruptly, her face flushed with anger and humiliation. "You think this changes anything?" she snapped, her voice rising with each word. "He married me. He chose me! You’re just… just some pathetic ex-wife who can’t let go!"

Naysa rose gracefully to her feet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She turned to face Bhagyashree, a slow, predatory smile spreading across her lips. "Oh, darling," she purred, her tone dripping with mockery. "If you really believed that, you wouldn’t be so desperate to shout it." She stepped closer to the bed, her gaze flicking down to where Bhagyashree’s legs were still splayed open, her pussy glistening with the remnants of Rishabh’s earlier attention. "Enjoy your honeymoon while it lasts, because when it’s over… he’ll come crawling back to me."

Rishabh stood frozen between them, his body still trembling from the intensity of his release, every muscle taut and every nerve alight with the residual heat of what had just transpired. His chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, his skin slick with sweat that clung to him like a second layer. He felt like a pawn caught between two queens, each pulling at him with a force that threatened to tear him apart. Naysa, with her fiery determination and unyielding possessiveness, stood to one side, her presence a storm of dominance that demanded his submission. Bhagyashree, on the other, her body still pulsing with the aftermath of their passion, glared at him with a mixture of fury and desperation, her claim on him etched into every word and gesture.

And yet, despite it all, his gaze kept flickering back to Naysa. There was something about her—something primal and undeniable—that called to him on a level he couldn’t ignore. Her voice, low and commanding, echoed in his mind, sending shivers down his spine and awakening a hunger he thought he’d buried. His cock, still half-hard and aching, twitched weakly in response, betraying the truth he didn’t want to admit. She still owns me, he thought, the realization both humiliating and exhilarating. No matter how far he ran or who he tried to replace her with, Naysa would always be there, a shadow over his heart and a fire in his veins.

Bhagyashree’s voice broke through his thoughts, sharp and accusatory. “So, this is it?” she sneered, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and hurt. “You let her waltz in here and take what’s mine? I’m your wife, Rishabh. You made vows to me!” Her words were laced with venom, but beneath the surface, there was a vulnerability that made his chest tighten. She wasn’t just angry—she was scared. Scared of losing him, scared of being cast aside like she was nothing.

Naysa, however, didn’t even flinch. She stepped closer to Rishabh, her movements deliberate and predatory, her gaze never leaving his. “Vows?” she purred, her tone dripping with mockery. “Those are just words, darling. What matters is what’s here.” She placed a hand on his chest, her fingers splaying over his racing heartbeat. “He doesn’t belong to you, Bhagyashree. He never will. You can stake your claim all you want, but in the end… he’ll always come back to me.”

Rishabh swallowed hard, the weight of their words pressing down on him like a physical force. He wanted to argue, to deny the truth in Naysa’s words, but he couldn’t. The evidence was in the way his body responded to her, in the way his mind wandered back to her no matter how hard he tried to focus on Bhagyashree. Even now, after everything, he was torn between the two women who were fighting over him as if he were a prize to be won.

The war between them wasn’t just about possession—it was about dominance, about who could claim him body and soul. Bhagyashree’s eyes burned with a fierce determination, her words sharp and cutting as she staked her claim, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. “You promised me, Rishabh! You said I was the one you wanted. Don’t let her ruin this!” Her desperation was palpable, her hands clutching at the sheets as if they could anchor him to her. But Naysa’s presence was like a storm, unyielding and all-consuming, her every word a challenge that dared Bhagyashree to fight back.

Naysa stepped closer, her movements deliberate and predatory, her gaze never leaving Rishabh’s. She placed a hand on his chest, her fingers splaying over his racing heartbeat. “He doesn’t belong to you, Bhagyashree,” she purred, her tone dripping with mockery. “He never will. You can stake your claim all you want, but in the end… he’ll always come back to me.” Her words were a knife, slicing through Bhagyashree’s declarations and exposing the raw nerve beneath. The air between them crackled with tension, charged with a heat that threatened to ignite.

And Rishabh? He was trapped, caught in the crossfire of their battle. His body still thrummed from the intensity of their encounter, his cock twitching weakly as if echoing the conflict in his mind. He wanted to believe Bhagyashree’s promises, to lose himself in the warmth of her body and the safety of her love. But Naysa’s voice—low, commanding, and impossibly familiar—was a siren’s call he couldn’t ignore. She was chaos, fire, and raw desire, a force that pulled at him with an irresistible gravity.

Bhagyashree’s voice broke through the storm, sharp and accusatory. “So, this is it?” she sneered, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and hurt. “You let her waltz in here and take what’s mine? I’m your wife, Rishabh. You made vows to me!” Her words were laced with venom, but beneath the surface, there was a vulnerability that made his chest tighten. She wasn’t just angry—she was scared. Scared of losing him, scared of being cast aside like she was nothing.

But Naysa only smiled, a slow, predatory curve of her lips that sent shivers down Rishabh’s spine. She leaned in close, her breath hot against his ear as she whispered, “Vows are just words, Rishabh. What matters is what’s here.” Her hand slid lower, brushing against his straining cock, and he couldn’t suppress the low groan that escaped his lips. “You can try to run, but you’ll always come back to me. You know it. I know it. And deep down… so does she.”

The tension in the room was unbearable, a coiled spring ready to snap. Bhagyashree’s chest heaved with ragged breaths, her fists clenched at her sides as if she were preparing for a fight. Naysa stood tall, her confidence unshakable, her every move calculated to remind Rishabh of what he’d left behind. And Rishabh? He stood at the center of it all, powerless to stop the storm that was coming. The war for his heart—and his body—was far from over. If anything, it had only just begun.