The fourth night Maya barely waited for the village to sleep. Her body still ached from the night before—her chut swollen and tender, her chuchiyan marked with dark bites and red handprints, her gaand still warm from the spanking. Every step she took made her remember how Digvijay’s thick lund had ripped her open and flooded her. She wanted more. She wanted everything.

She slipped into the back room of the baithak again. Digvijay was already there, shirtless, the oil lamp casting shadows across the hard planes of his chest and the heavy bulge under his dhoti. The moment the door locked he dragged her against him and crushed his mouth to hers, forcing his tongue deep while one big hand squeezed her full gaand hard enough to make her moan into the kiss.