Vikram’s eyes glinted with a devilish intent as he reached for the silver bowl again. The room was silent except for the heavy, rhythmic breathing of two people pushed to the edge of sanity. He picked up two fresh, jagged ice cubes, the frost biting into his calloused skin.

"Malik... ab kya karne wale hain? Woh bahut thanda hai, meri jaan nikal jayegi," Meera pleaded, her voice a mix of terror and intoxicating anticipation. Her thick thighs trembled, splayed wide across the silk sheets.