The afternoon sun filtered through the frosted glass of the bathroom window, casting a warm, diffused glow across the wet tiles. Steam rose in lazy curls, carrying the scent of jasmine soap and something deeper—the musk of skin, the sweetness of arousal.

Rajveer stood behind Veda, both of them naked under the cascade of warm water. Her back pressed against his chest, her head tilted back to rest on his shoulder. His hands moved slowly, methodically, across her body. He had insisted on bathing her himself, claiming she needed rest, that she was too precious to lift a finger.