Riley touched them both—one with his hands, the other with his mouth—and suddenly everything was heat and breath and tangled limbs. He fucked them together, his strength and hunger unrelenting.
Thea moaned as Clara gasped; Clara cried in pleasure as Riley drove into her from behind. Their bodies moved in rhythm, in sync, as if all three had done this countless times before.
It was chaos. It was beautiful. It was unforgettable and great.
That night, in Clara's room, pleasure had no rules—only shared desire.
It went without saying that the night stretched long for the three of them—filled with passion, whispers, and tangled limbs under the sheets.
But more than just physical release, it marked a silent turning point in their relationship. From that point onward, nights like this would no longer be rare or accidental.
