The shed door creaked shut behind Raj as he left—still smirking, phone in hand, promising the photos were gone forever. The candles had burned low, wax pooling like blood on the crate. The air inside stank of sweat, cum, and wet earth. Aria stayed on the blanket, knees drawn up, arms wrapped loosely around them. Cum still leaked slowly from her pussy and ass—thick white trails mixing on her inner thighs, glistening in the dying light.

She looked wrecked. Beautifully wrecked.