“That’s the problem. You’re too fucking good.” Tate hums against me. “And I want to watch you come so hard you cry.” His lips vibrating over my clit, and I shatter.

“Oh, fuck—Tate—” My entire body locks up, my nails biting into his scalp, my back arching, my legs shaking as another orgasm slams through me, as I come hard against his mouth, as my vision goes hazy, as my breath breaks.

Tate doesn’t stop, he’s on top of me, gripping my waist, yanking me down, slamming his cock inside me in one deep, brutal thrust just as I’m still riding out my orgasm, just as I’m still pulsing, still trembling.

I moan desperately, my head tipping back, my body writhing beneath him, his cock so thick, so deep, stuffing me full all over again as I gush all over him, soaking him, my pussy clenching, squeezing, pulling him even deeper.

“Fucking hell, Haven—” Tate groans, his fingers digging into my hips, his breath ragged, his cock throbbing inside me, barely holding back.

Carter is still kissing me. His hands caress my face, his lips brushing over my cheek, my jaw, my mouth, whispering soft, sweet things that sound like comfort, like affection, like something I can’t process right now, not when Tate is still deep inside me, still throbbing, still filling me, still holding me there like he owns me.

36

Carter

We’re sprawled across the bed, the floor, whatever the fuck surface we ended up collapsing onto, completely exhausted.

My body feels like it’s been put through a goddamn wringer, my muscles are sore, every nerve still tingling from what we just went through.

Tate is half-draped over Haven’s side, his chest rising and falling in deep heavy pants, his fingers idly tracing against her thigh, staking his fucking claim like he can’t help himself.

Her skin is glowing, her lips still slightly swollen, and her hair a chaotic mess against my chest. Her eyes barely open as she breathes out a soft, exhausted sound that I don’t even think she realizes she made.

Tate snorts. “God damn” he murmurs, his voice full of that signature smugness. “You’re gonna feel that tomorrow.”

Haven grumbles something unintelligible, moving slightly against me, her cheek pressing against my collarbone.

She mumbles the words that make my stomach flutter. “I w-want a bath.”

I breathe out a quiet laugh, pressing my lips against her temple, my arms tightening around her as I glance toward the hallway.

“Think your little golden boy wants to help with that, pretty?” Tate yawns out.

I tilt my head back against the wall, catching my breath, my fingers lazily running along Haven’s bare back, still feeling the heat of her skin.

I glance at Tate. “What, you just gonna lay there, or are you actually gonna be useful?”