Next Morning — Bags Packed, Time Ticking

The house buzzed softly with movement. The driver was already waiting outside. Mr. Pradhan adjusted the luggage while muttering into his phone. The sun was barely up.

Inside, Rudra was still shirtless, sipping from a cup of tea. His eyes were dark, tired… and yet sharp. He knew exactly what the morning air carried — a hunger just as fierce as yesterday.

Shanti stood by the bedroom door, arms folded under her chest, watching him.

"You thought I'd leave without tasting you again?" she said, her voice low, dangerous.

Rudra didn’t respond. He just put the cup down.

She walked to him, yanked his pajamas low, and dropped to her knees.

"You owe me a goodbye," she whispered, mouth already opening over his stiffening cock.

Rudra groaned, his fingers tangled in her hair. "Fuck, you're impatient."

Her lips worked him fast, messy, desperate. He didn’t stop her. Not until the pressure built — then he pulled her up, spun her around, and bent her over the low table in the hall.

“No time for slow,” she hissed, pulling her saree up.

He entered her rough and deep.

Their bodies collided hard — no talk, no teasing, just raw need.

“You’ll think of this on your way back,” Rudra growled.

She moaned into her arm, teeth gritted. “I’ll finger myself in the train bathroom thinking about it.”

He finished fast, deep inside her, and she took it all with a satisfied smile.

But just as she adjusted her saree and stepped away—

Prakriti appeared, standing in the doorway, eyes gleaming.

“My turn,” she said simply, walking in, wearing only a loose T-shirt and shorts.

Shanti didn’t flinch.

She smirked. “Don’t waste time.”

Rudra grabbed Prakriti’s hand, pulling her into the room. “You want it that bad before leaving?”

“I dreamed about last night,” she breathed, already climbing onto the bed. “I want to feel it again. Deeper.”

He pushed her legs wide, yanked her shorts off, and slid into her in one brutal thrust.

Prakriti cried out, nails scraping the headboard.

Shanti stood at the door, watching them — one hand casually dipping between her thighs, the other holding her phone.

“Make her scream,” she whispered.

Rudra obeyed.

He pinned Prakriti down, fucking her like it was their last hour on Earth — deep, fast, unforgiving.

She came hard, hips jerking, hands grabbing anything she could.

And as Rudra exploded inside her again, Prakriti whispered in his ear:

“You’ll miss me.”

He smirked. “I already do.”

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