Naysa released Rishabh wrists, her own breath coming in soft, controlled pants. Her dark eyes, gleaming with a predatory light, scanned his face the sheen of sweat on his brow, the desperate clench of his jaw, the raw vulnerability in his intense gaze. A slow, wicked smile curved her lips.

“You’ve been such a good toy,” she purred, her voice a low, silken threat. “So attentive with your mouth. So desperate with your cock. But I think my toy can be put to better use.”