Tate doesn’t wait, his hands grip my waist, his body pressing up against mine, his fingers trailing lower, until they’re gripping my ass hard, squeezing possessively, pulling me flush against him as his mouth crashes into mine, hard, claiming, unapologetic.

His hands stay locked on my ass, squeezing, kneading, pulling me tighter against him, and it’s only then that I feel it. He’s hard, and straining against his shorts, pressing into my stomach, my fingers instinctively fisting into the fabric of his hoodie, my knees suddenly weak, my body desperate for more. Before I can fully lean into the heat of Tate’s touch, I feel something else.

Carter, behind me. Pressing up against my back, I let out a shaky breath, my head spinning, my body trapped between them, between their heat, their touch, their want, and I don’t fight it.

The room spins around me, my senses overloaded, my skin burning with the heat of their bodies as they guide me backward, my legs hitting the edge of my bed before I finally give in, letting them lower me down, the mattress soft beneath me, the weight of their hands a slow, steady force against my body. Tate’s mouth already trailing along the curve of my jaw while Carter leans down, pressing a kiss just below my ear.

Fingers graze the hem of my shirt, teasing, lifting, waiting for some kind of resistance that never comes, because I don’t want them to stop. I don’t want hesitation. I don’t want space between us. I want their hands on me, their mouths claiming every inch of my skin, their bodies pressing me down into the mattress like I belong to them, and the moment I lift my arms, giving them permission, they take it.

Carter lifts my shirt up first, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of my stomach as he pulls it over my head, discarding it somewhere behind him, his eyes focused in awe as he takes me in. “You’re—God, you’re beautiful.”

Tate follows next, his hands sliding down my sides, finding the button of my jeans, popping it open easily, his fingers hooking beneath the waistband, dragging them down my legs, his mouth leaving a burning trail of kisses along my thighs, teasing, his breath hot against my skin.

A moan slips from my lips, quiet but unrestrained, and it only fuels them. Carter’s mouth finding my collarbone, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the slope of my shoulder. Tate’s hands gripping my thighs tighter, parting them just enough to drive me insane.

“Open up for us, pretty girl,” he says, nipping gently at the sensitive skin near my hip. “Let us ruin you.”

My body reacts instinctively, arching into them, my fingers finding themselves in Carter’s soft hair, my other hand grabbing the sheets as Tate’s tongue trails barely over my skin, making me shudder.