I smirked inwardly. Angela knew exactly what I was doing. Every impossible little display was another crack in Mira's carefully built wall—the good mother, the faithful wife, the woman who never stepped out of line.
I wanted her to see, to want, to rationalize. I wanted her to find one more reason to finally give in… to betray everything she thought she believed in… and become mine.
I tapped the tip of Angela's nose playfully, then reached into my pocket and pulled out the damp scrap of her original panties. "Here. Put these back on, too."
Angela glanced down at herself, then at me with a wry smile. "Your cum is still leaking out of me," she said quietly, almost teasing. "These panties are just going to get soaked again. The pants, too, probably."
I flicked my gaze sideways.
Mira hadn't moved an inch. She stayed exactly where she was—half-shrouded behind the thick trunk of an old banyan, one hand braced against the bark as if it were the only thing keeping her upright.
