i want you to fuck me so bad tonight

She's done waiting. Dark eyes fixed on the camera like a question that already knows its answer, dupatta slipping off one shoulder without apology.

The low light catches the curve of her throat, the deliberate way she's positioned herself — not posed, but ready. There's a specific kind of hunger in how she holds herself, unhurried and absolute.

You feel it land somewhere behind your sternum. She isn't asking, not really. She's telling you exactly how tonight ends, and every second between now and then belongs to her.