I was bent over the kitchen island with Ronan’s cock buried to the hilt when Mia walked in.

She didn’t scream. She didn’t cry. She didn’t even look surprised. She just stood in the doorway in her soft grey lounge set, hair still damp from the shower, and watched her fiancé fuck her twin sister like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Ronan didn’t stop. He never stopped for anything.

His hands stayed locked on my hips, dragging me back onto every hard thrust. The wet, filthy slap of skin filled the quiet kitchen. My dress was shoved up around my waist. My bare tits were pressed...