The next morning, sunlight spilled through the half-drawn curtains, painting golden streaks across the tangled sheets where Vikram and Ishika lay entwined. Her fingers still traced lazy patterns on his chest, her breath warm against his skin. He stirred, his morning wood pressing insistently against her thigh, and she smirked, her dark eyes flickering up at him. "Someone’s eager," she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep. Vikram grunted, rolling her onto her back as he pinned her wrists above her head. "You started it," he growled, his hips already rolling against her, his cock sliding through her slick folds. She gasped, her back arching as his tip teased her entrance. "Did not," she teased back, her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him in. "You always wake up like this." With a groan, he thrust into her in one deep stroke, burying himself to the hilt. She cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as he set a punishing rhythm, his hips slapping against hers. "Fuck, she begged, her voice raw. He obliged, pounding into her with bruising force, his balls slapping against her clit with every thrust. She came first, her pussy clamping around him as she screamed his name, her back arching off the bed. The sound of their bodies colliding echoed through the room, wet and desperate, her moans mingling with his ragged grunts. He followed her over the edge moments later, his cock pulsing as he filled her with thick ropes of cum, her pussy milking him for every drop. She whimpered as he collapsed on top of her, his weight pressing her into the mattress, their breaths ragged and mingled.