It was a Thursday. Three weeks after the rain had stopped. Three weeks of nursing, of morning rituals, of Dev's mouth on her breasts like a man taking medicine he couldn't live without.
Kavya was sitting on the bed, her back against the headboard, her sketchbook in her lap. She was drawing him again — this time, his hands. The way they looked when he held a coffee cup. The veins. The strength.
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Indian writer ✨ obsessed with fictional worlds, anime, and bold storytelling. I create erotic fiction that’s raw, emotional, and unapologetic. Your support helps me keep writing and building the kind of stories that live rent-free in your head.
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