Bhagyashree watched from below, her eyes wide with a mix of jealousy and arousal. She felt the power of Rishabh’s release in the way Naysa’s body convulsed, in the hoarse cries that tore from both their throats. It was primal, raw, and utterly intoxicating. She licked her lips, craving a taste of the same pleasure, but she knew she’d have to fight for her turn.

Naysa rode out the last tremors of Rishabh’s orgasm, her hips grinding slowly against him as she savored the feeling of his seed spilling deep inside her. Her hands clawed at his chest, leaving angry red marks in their wake. “You see that, Bhagyashree?” she panted, her voice heavy with satisfaction. “He’s mine. Always has been.” She punctuated her words with one final, punishing thrust, drawing a low groan from Rishabh.