The morning sun hit Kamara’s face, but it wasn’t the light that woke her.
It was the slow, steady vibration inside her p***y.
Nia had left the toy on low… teasing… pulsing between her folds.
She gasped softly, her thighs clenching.
She gasped. Her body clenched instinctively, grinding against nothing.
The sensation was maddening—soft enough to tease, strong enough to keep her wet.
Beside her, Mario didn’t stir.
Phone to his ear, he was already whispering to someone, young, feminine, giggling through the speaker.
She recognized the voice. An influencer from the night before.
He was lining up his next target.
Not even a glance at his wife.
He hadn’t asked where she’d been.
Hadn’t noticed the wildness in her eyes.
The c*m between her thighs.
The bruises on her hips where Nia had
