RILEY

He stood there in the living room, eyes flicking between me and Jax, suspicion carved deep into his face. Jax’s fingers were still pressed against my soaked, cum-filled pussy through my shorts, rubbing slow teasing circles like he didn’t give a single fuck that my brother was two feet away.

“Riley,” Roland said again, voice low and dangerous. “Is he fucking you?”

I swallowed hard. Jax’s middle finger pushed the fabric of my shorts and panties into my dripping hole, forcing a tiny whimper out of me.

“No,” I lied, my voice breathy. “He’s not.”

Roland didn’t look convinced. “Then why the hell do you both look like you...