I kiss the inside of her thighs before I slowly rope her wrists to the headboard and whisper every unholy thing I plan to do between her legs until she whimpers.
It still surprises me sometimes. How completely she gives herself over to the moment. Never any hesitation or doubt.
Just trust, that kind of trust is the most dangerous thing in the world. Once someone hands it to you, breaking it stops being an option.
I drag the last knot tight against the curve of her wrists, the silk biting gently into her skin, securing her to the headboard. To remind her she’s the centerpiece of this room, this moment,us.
Her legs are spread, bent at the knees.
Carter kneels beside her, brushing her hair back from her damp forehead, his lips pressing softly to her jaw, her cheekbone, the corner of her mouth. “Goddamn Haven, you’re so fucking beautiful like this.”
She shifts beneath him, her back arching and thighs clenching when I settle at the end of the bed. My hands skim up the backs of her knees, then drag down her calves “I haven’t even started.’”
Carter leans down to kiss her neck, whispering something soft that I can’t hear but it makes her whimper. She turns her head, chasing his mouth with hers.
I hook her ankles over my shoulders and lower my head. The first drag of my tongue is slow, deliberate, and fucking greedy.
She gasps and Carter moans at the sound she makes.
I tease her with my tongue until she’s shaking, groaning her name between strokes like if I say it enough, I’ll summon every orgasm she’s ever buried.
Carter massages her tits, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks. She’s tugging at the ropes now, needing something to ground her.
“You can take it,” I murmur against her skin. “You were made to be wrecked like this.”
She cries out, her head falling back against the pillows.
Carter shifts beside her, kissing the underside of her jaw. “You want to come, baby? You want us toletyou?”
Her whole body clenches. She’s on the edge.
I slip two fingers inside her, curling them just right, while my tongue keeps moving and coaxing her closer.
She breaks. Hard. Beautiful. Loud. Her scream is caught in Carter’s kiss.
I don’t stop.
Not until her body goes limp, trembling, her chest rising and falling like she just came back from the dead.
25
Haven
I’m not sure what day it is.
Somewhere between the last match and the upcoming finals, time started slipping sideways. Everything feels like a fever dream of late-night snacks, long streams, and even longer mornings tangled up in the twins I definitely shouldn’t still be craving this much.
But I do. God, I do.
I shift under the blanket, blinking at the sunlight trying its best to make its way through my dark curtains. Carter’s arm is draped across my waist, his face buried in the pillow beside me, a faint snore puffing against my neck. He’s a heavy sleeper but he doesn’t want to let go even when he’s unconscious. Tate on the other hand is not in bed, of course.
I hear movement from the kitchen. The sound of cabinets opening and something clattering to the floor followed by a loud “fuck.”
I grin into the pillow before I slip out of Carter’s arms, tug on one of his shirts, and tiptoe barefoot down the hall.
Tate’s shirtless in the kitchen, making a mess of toast and eggs, his hair a complete disaster. He glances up when he sees me, and from the look on his face he’s picturing me bent over the counter. “Morning, pretty chaos,” he says, flipping a very sad-looking egg.
“You’re gonna give yourself food poisoning,” I reply, leaning against the counter, watching him try to salvage it. I hate to admit it, but between the two Carter is definitely a better cook.
