“God, look at you,” I whisper. “So pretty when you whine for me.”
Tate’s teeth grit. “You’re gonna make him blow first.”
“Oh yeah?” I smile, speeding up my strokes just a little—tightening my grip, twisting slightly at the top.
Tate lets out a groan. “Fuck, I hope I lose.”
Carter whimpers again, his thighs trembling, breath hitching hard. “I’m so close…”
“Really now?” I murmur, leaning close to his ear. “I haven’t even kissed you yet.”
I stroke them both harder now, they’re both leaking, both desperately holding on.
“You look so good like this,” I whisper. “Two perfect fucking messes. My messes.”
Carter lets out a broken moan. Tate’s hips buck, chasing it. “Who’s gonna give it to me first?” I taunt. “Who’s gonna lose?”
Tate moans. “Me. Fuck—me, angel. I’m gonna come all over your fucking hand. Look at me.”
As I do he locks eyes with me, his chest heaving, andhe comes with a groan, hot and thick over my knuckles as he rides it out with a stuttering breath. “Fuck yes. Fucking knew I’d lose.”
Carter gasps and I don’t slow down. “Please—Haven—oh fuck—”
He spills all over my hand within seconds, his hips jerking.
Tate’s watching me like he hasn’t had enough, his hand comes up, pressing his thumb lightly under my chin. “Don’t waste it.”
Carter shifts beside him, still catching his breath, but his eyes drop instantly.
Tate’s grip tightens just slightly. “You made the mess, take care of it.”
I lean in slow at first, my mouth brushing along Tate’s cock as I clean him up, making sure I don’t miss anything.
His exhale is shaky this time. “Yeah…” he breathes, voice dropping. “That’s it. Slow, pretty girl. Don’t rush.”
Carter lets out a soft, wrecked sound beside him, dragging a hand down his face. “Haven—fuck…”
I go slower with Carter, letting it build instead of rushing through it. My tongue moves along him with the same attention, but I take longer, tracing him.
He sucks in a breath. “Haven—.”
I keep going, making sure every inch is accounted for, when Tate’s hand suddenly closes around the back of my neck and pulls me up into a kiss.
Carter leans back. “Round three?” he murmurs, his hand brushing mine. “I just… I want you to feel good again. That’s all.”
I lean back against Carter for a second, letting out a little laugh. “Round three, huh? You sure you can keep up?” I tease, wiggling my fingers between them.
Before Carter can say anything else, Tate’s sliding me onto his lap, one arm wrapping around my waist, the other bracing me by the shoulder. “Not a joke, pretty girl.”
His hand slips under my pillow, and when it comes back up, he’s holding his red neon mask.
Carter groans. “Oh, no. Not this again.”
“Oh, yes,” Tate purrs, as he slides it over his face, the sharp glow of red bathing his jaw. “We broke in the bed. Might as well break her next.”
He reaches under the pillow again and pulls out another mask. This one’s blue, but perfectly matching his.
He tosses it to Carter who catches it mid-air, stares down at it like it’s glowing hot.
