The haveli had stood for four centuries—sandstone walls thick enough to swallow screams, courtyards silent except for the occasional cry of peacocks at dawn. Tonight it felt smaller, suffocating.

Riya returned just before sunrise, blanket discarded at the outer gate by Arjun’s driver. She slipped through the servants’ entrance, bare feet leaving faint wet prints on the cool marble. Sand clung to her skin in gritty patches; dried piss, cum, and sweat formed a second skin. Bite marks on her neck and breasts had darkened to deep purple; handprints on her ass and thighs glowed angry red. Her pussy and ass throbbed with every step—raw, stretched, leaking slowly down her inner thighs.