Durjya watched his sister sitting in the Atlantian's lap while Lucas's hand was roving in her choli, pinching her nipples, squeezing her breasts. Kayva's neck cheeks had turned red with shame. She was just three springs older than him—a maiden who had just bloomed.
She didn't look towards him and kept her teary eyes fixed on the floor.
Just a few days ago how, before Lucas's eyes fell on her, Kayva's was a bird, a mockingbird, always humming some tunes. But now, she had turned into an emotionless statue. Atlantian had sucked dry her melodic songs, her never-fading smile.
As if sensing his gaze, Lucas pulled out his hand from her silky blouse. Slowly, he caressed her yellow waist soft as butter, and his defiling hand crept into her lehenga.
All of a sudden, Kavya's body shuddered, and blood seemed to ooze out of her red cheeks.
