Ronan's smirk deepened as he watched Riven's semen drip onto his chest, the warm liquid pooling against his skin. The air was thick with the scent of their deeds.
Riven's breath came in heaves, each gasp a mix of pleasure and anticipation. Like it was said before, this was far from over.
With a quick glance at Soren, whose eyes were black pools of danger, Ronan was provoked. He sneered while he presented the liquid on his chest like a trophy, seeing Soren's gaze sharpen, he knew it was a win.
Acting on instinct, Ronan grasped Riven's waist, spinning him around.
The sight that greeted him was intoxicating—Riven on his hands and knees, his entrance glistening with slickness, inviting and ready. Ronan's cock throbbed, aching to fill him, but he relished the moment. The heavy sound of Riven's breathing mingled with the faint rustling of limbs.
Soren leaned in closer, his thumb sliding into Riven's mouth, pressing down to feel Riven's warm tongue swirl around him.
