My breath catches. I move between her legs like I’m in a trance, hands trembling as I guide myself to her soaked pussy. She’s still twitching, still whimpering, body open. I push in slow. She gasps. I groan.

“F-fuck,” I stammer, sinking deeper. “She’s… Tate, she’s still so—”

“I know,” he says, darkly proud. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

I nearly whimper at the the tightness, the feeling of being inside her, all of her. “Haven,” I whisper, voice breaking.

She doesn’t respond, not fully but her hips roll toward me, like her body knows. Like even in her haze, she still wants me. So I fuck her slow, sweet. Whispering in her ear as I move. “You’re everything to me, you’re so beautiful like this. I’d never stop if you let me…”

Tate watches from behind, one hand stroking himself again. “You see it now?” he murmurs. “She needs both of us.”

I don’t answer. I thrust into her slow and deep, burying my face in her neck, whispering her name like a prayer. Haven’s body rocks gently beneath mine, her breath soft and sweet, and even though she’s half-asleep, she meets every stroke with the kind of sleepy moan that makes me feel like I could die here. I whisper again. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”

She gasps, barely awake, barely aware. Tate moves. He doesn’t ask. He just leans in from behind, dragging the sheet down to expose her chest, and lowers his mouth to her tits.

His tongue swipes over one nipple, slow and deliberate, before he sucks it deep into his mouth, groaning like he’s starving. His hand palms the other breast, rough and possessive. “Fuck” he mutters, pulling off with a wet pop. “You’re fucking perfect.”

“Tate—” I start, voice tight, but he cuts me off with a look.

“Don’t stop. She likes this. You feel how wet she still is? How hard she clenched when I sucked her?”

He does it again, rougher this time. He sucks hard, teeth grazing, tongue flicking, like he’s trying to mark her. Haven gasps, arching up toward him, even as I’m still buried deep inside her. My thrusts get messy, needy. She’s making the sweetest sounds, helpless, soft whimpers, her body caught between our mouths and hands and cocks, totally overwhelmed. I’m losing control, but so is Tate.

He pulls back suddenly, mouth wet, chest heaving. “You had your turn,” he groans, voice sharp. “Now move.”

I freeze. He grabs my arm, yanks me back. I fall to the side, breath knocked out of me, and before I can speak, he’s already between her legs again.

Tate grabs her hips, pulls her down the bed, and slams into her in one brutal thrust. She cries out half dream, half need and he doesn’t give her time to adjust.