Priya lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling. The fan spun lazily above her, doing nothing to cool her burning skin. She was touch-starved, hungry, and so f*****g horny she could cry. It had been two months since Rohan had last f****d her. Two months of a dry, aching p***y and a head full of dirty thoughts that had nowhere to go.
The bedroom door clicked open. Rohan walked in, dropping his briefcase on the chair. He smelled like the office stale coffee and stress. He didn't look at her. He didn't look at the sheer black nighty she had put on, the one that barely covered her hard n*****s and left nothing to the imagination.
"Food is on the table," she said softly, sitting up. The blanket fell away, exposing her heavy t**s through the thin fabric.
"Not hungry. Too tired," Rohan muttered,
