The humid jungle air hung thick around them, heavy with the scent of damp earth, sweat, and sex. Aarohi’s sharp, pained cry seemed to echo long after it had left her lips, the sound cutting through Neil’s post-orgasm haze. He watched, motionless, as Abhimanyu finally stilled against Aarohi’s bound form, his own release spent. For a suspended moment, the only movement was the gentle rise and fall of Aarohi’s chest as she panted, her forehead resting against the rough tree bark.

Then, her eyes, wide and glistening with unshed tears, found Akshara’s. It was a raw, silent plea, a look that spoke of overwhelmed senses and a need for reprieve.