The flat was filled with the cozy scent of buttery pancakes and fresh coffee and sizzled eggs, morning light slanting through the window onto the counter.
Gauri stood at the stove in Vikrant's white shirt — just one button undone at the top, the fabric parting enough to reveal the deep swell of her cleavage framed by black lace. The bra cupped her breasts perfectly, the edge peeking out temptingly with every small movement as she reached for the spatula.



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