Graham lifts me gently off Carson’s lap, guiding me into his own. His bare skin burns against the curve of my ass, his cock already leaking against me. I feel the slick gather between my legs in answer, my body more than ready.
His fingers dip into the wetness and trail back, circling the tight ring of muscle on my ass. I tense, instinctively holding my breath as he presses gently, preparing me to take him.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against my ear, his voice rough, steady. “Just breathe.”
I relax in his arms, and he slides into me. His pace is slow, deliberate, each stroke pulling a gasp from my lips. One of his palms is hot against my stomach, holding me upright, grounding me. His other hand dips between my legs, working my clit with practiced precision.
My head drops back onto his shoulder, my fingers tightening around Carson’s length as pleasure builds, cresting higher with every motion.
Carson groans, shifting closer. He moves onto his knees, his mouth finding my neck. He kisses a line up to my jaw, then down again, his hands cupping my breasts. A low growl rumbles from deep in his chest—a sound so raw and possessive, it sinks straight into my bones and sets every nerve on fire.
It’s the most possessive sound I think I’ve ever heard from Carson.
And it speaks to my soul.
“What are you waiting for, Carson?” Graham says, his voice a growl of its own. He pauses his movements for just a second, his fingers wrapping around Carson’s length, joining mine. “There’s enough room for both of us.”
If Graham wasn’t holding me up, I’d be a puddle on the floor.
Graham’s hands are steady as they frame my waist, his breath a slow exhale against my shoulder. He anchors me in the moment, even as my whole body trembles from the need building under my skin.
Carson’s gaze is fixed on me, dark with want, his lips parted on a breath he’s forgotten to take. My hand still wraps around him, and he’s twitching beneath my touch, barely holding back.
“Come here,” I murmur.
He leans in without hesitation, one of his hands bracing beside mine, the other cupping my cheek. His thumb strokes across my bottom lip. The tension in his face eases.
“Both of us?” he whispers.
I nod, heart thundering. “You said you’d give me twenty. I’m holding you to it.”
A crooked grin flashes across his face, but there’s love behind it. He presses his forehead to mine for a breath before shifting closer. Graham adjusts his grip on me, guiding our rhythm, making space without losing contact, his hand brushing Carson’s as they work together—centering me between them like I’m the only thing that matters.
Graham leans back, spreading my legs wide for Carson, my back resting against Graham’s chest. The moment stretches, electric.
Carson’s fingers graze my thigh as he lines himself up,slow and careful, eyes on mine the entire time. When he finally presses forward, my mouth falls open on a gasp—and Graham’s arm tightens around my middle as though he felt it too.
I close my eyes, overwhelmed in the best way, by them, by this, by the quiet groans that echo off the walls and the synchronized breaths, the way they’re both holding me like I’m the center of gravity.
“You feel so damn good,” Carson breathes, and it sends a fresh wave of heat spiraling through me.
Then Hunter tilts my head toward his, capturing my next moan with his lips. It’s exactly what I need to fall to pieces. I clench around them as my first orgasm crashes over me, stealing my breath and scattering every thought.
Carson groans, his hips stuttering as he buries himself deeper, chasing the tension coiling tight in his core. Graham grips my waist harder, his rhythm growing more demanding beneath me, and I feel the shift—the way his control starts to fray, his pace driving deeper.
"You're squeezing me so fucking good," Graham rasps, his breath hot against my back. "I can feel every part of you. You’re such a good fucking girl, taking us like this."
I whimper in response, my body trembling, muscles fluttering around them as another orgasm threatens to overtake me the second the first ebbs. Carson drops his forehead to my shoulder, his breath ragged. "Fuck, peaches—I'm gonna?—"
His knot swells at the base of his cock, pressing against my entrance as my body clenches around him. I cry out, pleasure turning molten as he stretches me, locking us together.
Hunter's mouth is at my neck again, his lips tracing the mark he left days ago. “That’s two,” he murmurs with satisfaction.
Graham doesn’t slow. His grip tightens as he shifts my weight, his own knot beginning to swell inside me. My visiongoes hazy with sensation, pressure building to a blinding peak as he knots deep and firm, his groan low and raw.
I arch between them, stretched and full and utterly theirs.
Every breath is a tremor. Every heartbeat feels like the start of something I’ll never come back from. And I don’t want to.
