There was really no arguing his case.
The mirror in front of him couldn't possibly be lying, and at the moment it was telling a story that had Riley's head spinning.
As Kael took him from behind, Riley had no choice but to confront his own reflection.
His eyes were blown wide, hooded and hazy with a dark, liquid heat that he could hardly recognize as his own.
Every time Kael's hips drove forward and crashed against him, Riley watched his own expression change, his features contorting into something openly erotic—mouth parted, tongue dampening his lower lip, and a deep flush that had spread from his chest all the way to his throat as his head tilted back.
It was a strange revelation.
But instead of shying away from the sight, Riley leaned into it. He accepted the way pleasure made him look, the rawness of it, and the even rawer way it made him feel.
