My stomach twists. “What?”

Tate glances up, his expression almost calm. Like he’s explaining the weather. “Some girls like it,” he says. “The loss of control. Being touched while they drift. It’s not about not wanting it. It’s about trust. Letting go.” His eyes drop back to her, softer now. “You think Haven would stay quiet if she didn’t want to be touched?”

I swallow hard. “That doesn’t mean we just take,” I say, quieter now. “She deserves to be asked.”

Tate’s lips curve, not mocking. More like approval. “Which is why you’re her good boy.” His fingers finally brush against her hip, feather-light. Not enough to wake her, but enough to make my heart pound. “And why I’m the one she dreams about when she needs a little more.”

Haven moves slightly, her thighs parting just a little, like her body’s still chasing my mouth.

Tate watches that happen, and he presses two fingers against her inner thigh and slides them up, stopping just before he touches her again. “She’s still wet.”

I don’t move.

“You want her to feel good again?” he murmurs. “Let me show you what she needs.”

I want to say no. I don’t say no. Tate leans in and licks her, one long, slow drag of his tongue over her and Haven moans in her sleep, hips twitching.

“Carter…” she breathes, voice thick and sleepy.

That’s all it takes. I drop to my knees beside the bed again, guilt and hunger a tangled mess inside me. Tate moves onto the bed, hovering over her, spreading her legs wider, fingers parting her for me.

“She’s all yours again,” he says. “Make her come like this.”

I bury my mouth in her. No hesitation now. I suck, lick, lap at her like a man possessed. I moan into her, hips grinding into the sheets again, lost in her taste, her sound, her fucking scent. Her fingers twitch against the mattress, lips parting.

“She’s going under again,” Tate says roughly. “Look how soft she is. Open. Needy.”

He moves his hand between her thighs and presses his thumb above my mouth on her clit, while I fuck her with my tongue. Her legs kick. Her voice cracks. A sleepy little please escapes her lips.

I whimper against her, desperate to obey. We take turns, Tate teasing her with his fingers, me licking until she’s gasping in her sleep, drenched and dripping and helpless under us. When she comes again, broken moans, my name on her lips, I nearly come untouched.