The jungle’s oppressive heat seemed to condense, pressing in on the three of them with a tangible weight. Akshara’s mouth was a slick, hot vessel for Abhimanyu’s need, and the air vibrated with the unsaid challenge hanging between the two men. Her own heartbeat thundered in her ears, a frantic counter-rhythm to Abhimanyu’s ragged breaths and the low, possessive growl simmering in Neil’s chest just behind her.

Akshara felt Abhimanyu’s control fraying at the edges. His thrusts into her mouth grew less measured, more desperate, his hips driving forward with a shallow, frantic rhythm. The hand in her hair tightened, his fingers twisting in the dark strands, not to hurt, but to anchor himself as pleasure threatened to sweep him away.