08

Chapter 8

The water hit her back in thin, hot needles, and Saanjh braced both palms against the cold tile, letting the steam fill her lungs. Her thighs were still sticky. She could feel it—the slow, warm slide of her own wetness tracing a path down the inside of her leg, diluted now by the shower spray but still there, still proof.

Vikram.

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Sonam Kandalgaonkar

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I write heroines who are curvy, plus size, simple, or plain because beauty has never been about one perfect standard. Beauty is always in the eyes of the beholder. A woman does not need society’s approval to deserve love, obsession, respect, and a powerful story.