Her whisper disintegrated into the moan and then scrambled back. "F—four times. You know how many— you were there—"
"Mm." The noncommittal sound of a man filing information.
He fucked her through three slow, full thrusts before he spoke again.
'Pah. Pah. Pah.'
"Mmnh— Raven— mngh— the other patient—"
"What about them."
'Pah.'
"AHH— mm—" Palm. Hand. Muffled. Leaking through the gaps of her fingers. "Please— it's— I can't be this loud—"
"You keep being this loud."
"Because you keep— ngh— doing that—"
'Pah. Pah.'
"MMPH—!!♡"
On the other side of the curtain, Vikram heard his wife make the sound.
The sound she made.
The specific, unmistakable, broken-off version of the thing she made when she was very close.
He knew what that sound was.
His hand left the bed rail.
