Tate, who has his cock fully buried in my mouth, who has my hair wrapped around his fist, who is groaning low, dark, hungry, the exact opposite of Carter’s soft desperation. Tate, who is fucking my throat slow and deep, who is tilting my head up just right, who is watching every reaction I give them. “Take it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his fingers tightening in my hair, his hips rolling, his cock gliding along my tongue. “You want to be full, don’t you? Want to be stuffed with both of us?”

I moan, muffled around him, my body arching as Carter drives into me harder, his breath catching, his words breaking.

“F-Fuck—Haven, I—”

“Come inside her, little brother,” Tate orders, his voice silk and sin, his tone almost encouraging. “Fill her up.”

Carter shudders, his groan vibrating against my skin, his fingers digging in, his entire body tensing. His hands gripping me so fucking tight, his breath breaking, his hips snapping forward, hard, desperate, completely wrecked as he slams deep, buries himself inside me, and finally lets go.

A shattered moan rips from his throat as he spills into me, as his cock throbs inside me, as his cum floods me, coating my walls, stuffing me so full I swear I can feel it dripping already. “Haven—fuck, baby—” His voice is soft, broken, so fucking sweet even as he’s shaking, even as his body locks up, even as he fucks his cum deeper into me, as he keeps thrusting, slow now, but still deep, still dragging it out, still making sure I feel every last drop.

Tate grips my hair tighter and fucks my mouth harder, his cock sliding deep, filling me, making me take every inch. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his breath sharp as he watches Carter fall apart, as he watches me struggle to handle both of them, my body stretched, used, ruined. “You love this, don’t you? Letting him fill that pretty little pussy while I fuck your mouth?”

I whimper, my moan muffled, my hands gripping the sheets, my body still trembling, still feeling Carter’s cock pulsing inside me.

Carter groans, his hands sliding to my stomach, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against my skin, so fucking sweet, so fucking perfect, even as he watches Tate use me.

“You’re amazing, Haven,” he breathes, his lips pressing against my stomach, my hip, my thigh, as if he’s worshipping me, as if I’m the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to him.

Tate starts to slow, his thrusts turning deeper, heavier, dragging his cock along my tongue, letting me feel every inch, every pulse as he gets closer, as his grip on my hair tightens, as his breath starts to break, sharp and uneven.

His dirty talk, once so smooth, so controlled, is coming out in stuttered murmurs now, rough, desperate, barely keeping its usual arrogance.