Carter still holds back. Tate does not. He thrusts deep, hitting the back of my throat before I can even prepare for him, his grip tightening, his groan slipping past the mask as I gag around him. He makes me take every inch of him, slow and punishing, like he wants to carve the shape of his cock into my throat.

Carter is completely fucking unraveling beneath me, his thrusts are getting sharper, rougher, his groans turning back into whimpering moans, his body locking up, trembling, the muscles in his stomach flexing as he fucks up into me like he’s barely hanging on. He’s close. I can feel the way his cock pulses inside me, the way his grip tightens, the way his rhythm starts to stutter. Knowing Carter is about to fill me up, about to claim me, about to completely let go inside me? It makes me fucking desperate.

I squeeze around him, my body clamping down so tight he curses, gasping against my throat, his fingers digging into my waist as he fights to keep himself together.

Tate notices. He pulls out of my mouth, stroking himself, his cock dripping with my spit, his voice dark, amused, dangerous. “She’s fucking greedy, little brother.”

Carter lets out a strangled moan, his head falling back, his body shuddering as I squeeze him tighter, as I start losing myself completely. I need them. Both of them.

Tate grips my hair tighter, forcing my head back, his cock driving deeper into my throat, fucking into me like he knows I can take it, like he’s teaching me exactly how he likes it.

I gag, choke, my body convulsing between them, but he doesn’t let up.

Carter is still trying to hold on, trying to keep control, still fucking me like he’s afraid to lose himself completely, still thinking instead of just taking what’s his.

Tate pulls back just enough, his voice dark as he pants out, “Stop going easy, little brother. This is your first time, make the most of it.”

I yelp at the same moment Tate thrusts back into my mouth, the sound muffled, swallowed by the sheer size of him as he fucks my throat without mercy.

Carter snaps. He lets out another whimpered groan, his grip on my waist turning bruising, his thrusts turning savage, raw, desperate.

He finally fucking lets go. He pounds into me, his cock stretching me, hitting deep, his breath coming in short, broken moans as he loses himself inside me. His head tips back, his body shudders, his fingers dig into my skin like he’s barely holding on, his voice breaking. “I—I can’t,” he gasps. “I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna come—”

Tate’s voice drops an octave, his next words sharper. I can feel the grin behind the mask. “Then fucking do it already.”