"I didn't run away. I chose freedom." -Aaryaa

The city didn't sleep.

Neither did she.

The rain lashed against the glass like it wanted in. Thunder rolled above Mumbai's skyline, but inside the penthouse-there was a different kind of storm.

The room smelled like sex.

Hot skin, sharp breaths, and sin.

Kiaan leaned back on the leather armchair, naked, his obsidian gaze raking over her body with deliberate slowness. His voice, when it came, was low and cold.

"You've been tempting me since the day I saw you walked into my best friend's boardroom."

His back flexed under the warm yellow light, his hands gripping Aaryaa's hips as if letting go might kill him. She was on her knees, hair wild, nails clawing at the sheets, moaning his name like a broken prayer.

"Fuck, Aaryaa... You're gonna make me lose my goddamn mind-"

The door clicked.

Neither of them heard it.

Ruhan entered.

His eyes fell on the two figures, completely immersed into each other.

He didn't react. He just watched. With predatory eyes.

The two soul still unbothered of the third presence.

Not until a familiar, flat voice cut through the air.

Kiaan froze mid-thrust, head whipping toward the door like a teenager caught by a parent.

"Ruh... wait, what the hell are you doing home?" he said, panting. "You were supposed to be in Dubai till Monday-"

"Clearly," Ruhan muttered, stepping further in without blinking, "my absence gave you ideas."

Aaryaa turned her face, strands of sweat-damp hair sticking to her cheek.

Her lips curved, breathless.

"He didn't ask."

"I didn't say no."

Ruhan's jaw flexed. His eyes-those calm, calculating eyes-drifted from her flushed body to Ishaan's hand still on her ass.

"And here I thought lawyers were good with consent."

"Oh, f*ck off," Kiaan groaned. And started pounding into her once again in an animalistic speed eager to chase his release. Within seconds they both reached their highs, lips parted, gasping to catch each other's breath.

A pause.

Then Ruhan laughed-short, dry, entirely unexpected.

"You're naked. She's wrecked. I walk in and you two are quoting stats?"

"This friendship is clearly past saving."

Kiaan huffed, still inside her.

"Bro, I swear I was going to tell you. I just couldn't control myself. Come on, look at her."

Ruhan did look. And for a long second, he didn't speak.

His gaze landed on Aaryaa's bare back, the way she arched against Kiaan, the red bite marks already blooming on her skin. His fingers twitched. But his face remained carved in stone.

Then, quietly:

"Move."

Kiaan blinked.

"What? Seriously!"

Ruhan unbuttoned his shirt, eyes never leaving hers.

"You've had your turn."

"Now it's mine."

Kiaan grinned like the smug bastard he was, pulling out and rolling onto the bed like this was a goddamn sleepover.

"Finally. Thought I'd have to spell it out for you."

Aaryaa turned to her back slowly, lips parted, heart thundering-not with fear, but hunger.

She looked up at Ruhan.

"You're not mad?"

He leaned down, cupped her jaw, voice low.

"You're mine. He's my best friend."

"Sharing is not a problem-so long as I still get the last taste."

Kiaan whistled from the side.

"Possessive bastard."

"Shut up and hold her legs," Ruhan snapped.

And just like that, the rules changed.

Not with jealousy. Not with rage.

But with understanding.

Because when it came to Aaryaa-they would both burn, both claim, and both worship.

Together.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°

⚠️ Final Note Before You Dive In ⚠️

If any of the listed tropes or triggers make you uncomfortable - this story probably isn't for you.

But if you're still tempted to read it despite the warnings - you do so at your own risk.

I won't tolerate hate, harassment, or personal attacks aimed at me or this story.

You're welcome to curse the characters, scream at their choices, and love or hate them loudly -

but don't confuse fiction with the author.

This is a work of dark, twisted, pleasure-drenched fiction.

It's not here to comfort you. It's here to consume you.