Chapter 8 #2
I am so close to falling apart, and the movie hasn’t even hit the halfway point. Their hands move in sync now; Carter tracing slow, careful patterns just beneath the hem of my shirt,.
Tate on the other hand, is not afraid of anything.
His hand slides higher between my thighs, confident and unrelenting, his fingertips pressing with just enough pressure to make my breath catch.
He leans in close, mouth brushing the top of my ear, and the words he murmurs aren’t soft at all.
He’s the one that makes my body jolt. He’s the one that makes my pulse spike.
His fingers shift again—lower, and he doesn’t stop to ask permission.
My leggings are being pulled off before I can even try to compose myself.
Carter’s hand finds my jaw, gently turning my face toward him. “You okay?” he asks, and it’s not just sweet, it’s grounding. His voice keeps me from floating too far off the edge Tate’s dragging me toward.
I nod. Carter presses his lips to my cheek, then down to my shoulder. “You’re so beautiful like this.”
Tate chuckles. “She’s ruined like this.” His hand moves again. My whole body tenses, I reach out blindly, grabbing onto Carter’s thigh just to steady myself.
He takes my hand in his, laces our fingers together like he’s trying to remind me who’s holding me through all of this.
Tate leans in again, his voice nothing but ice and fire. “You gonna fall apart for us right here, pretty girl? Can’t even sit through a movie without begging, huh?”
Carter kisses my knuckles. “You don’t have to say anything, baby.”
My head tips back against the couch, I can’t breathe, or maybe I can but it’s too shallow. My chest rises and falls in tight, uneven waves as Carter’s lips trace a slow path down my neck, his hand cradling mine.
Tate’s mouth is right against my ear again, his voice a little rougher threading under my skin. “That’s it,” he groans, his hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of my leggings. “Let us take care of you.”
I let out a broken sound as Tate’s fingers move with pressure on my clit.
Every brush, every press is calculated. Carter slides down to the floor in front of me, kneeling between my legs.
His palms rest on my thighs, completely focused on me.
“You’re so sensitive.” he says softly. “You feel everything, don’t you? ”
I nod, or maybe I gasp—it’s hard to tell which, because one Carter’s hands stays clamped around my thigh, holding me open, while the other drifts lower. “So wet,” he murmurs.
He leans up and kisses my jaw, tracing soft, open-mouthed kisses down my throat. Every breath I take feeds the tension. Every sound I make guides him. He listens with his hands, with his mouth.
Tate moves closer beside me, his thigh pressed tight against mine, hand dragging down over my stomach. He doesn’t kiss, he bites, teeth sinking into the curve of my shoulder, just hard enough to make me gasp.
“Fuck,” he grits out, fingers slipping between my legs. “You’re soaked for us already.”
He slips two inside, hitting that spot that makes my breath catch, and when I whimper, he does it again.
“Thought about this every goddamn night,” he groans, thrusting his fingers harder. “Wanted to know if you’d fall apart just from this. Guess I was right.”
My back arches. Carter groans softly, then he slips lower too, his fingers finding my clit and circling, slow and sweet, drawing little gasps out of me like he’s collecting them.
“You’re s-so good for us,” Carter whimpers, lips brushing my temple. “So perfect like this. Let us make you feel good, baby. Let go.”
“You hear that?” Tate says, grinding his palm against Carter’s hand forcing him to add more pressure to my clit. “You’re dripping, pretty girl. Fucking love how messy you get.”
Carter moans against my skin. “You’re close already, aren’t you? Just from our hands, take what you need.”
My hips jerk. I can’t stop it, I reach out blindly, grabbing Carter’s shirt, Tate’s wrist, anything to anchor me as the pressure builds, tight and sharp. “Don’t stop,” I beg. “Please—don’t—”
“We’re not,” Carter breathes. “We’re right here.”
“Not until you fucking scream,” Tate groans.
I come hard, body locking up as a wave rolls through me, loud and wild and helpless. Their hands keep moving, working me through it. By the time it ends, my brain’s gone static.
Tate notices and before I can argue, he scoops me up with one arm under my back, the other beneath my knees.
I groan softly, tucking my face against his chest. “You’re gonna bruise my pride.”
“Shut up,” He mumbles, but I’m too relaxed in his arms to care.
Carter’s smoothing a hand over my hair as we head down the hallway. “I’ll grab water.”
“Thank you,” I sigh, eyes slowly shut for a second.
Tate nudges open my bedroom door with his foot and lays me down gently on my bed, his touch surprisingly careful for someone who just had his hands all over me. He steps back, rubbing the back of his neck, this soft part isn’t his comfort zone.
“I want you both to stay in here,” I murmur, tugging the blanket up. “Cuddle with me.”
Tate snorts. “Yeah, hard pass. I’m not sleeping in a bed next to my brother.”
“You’ll break that rule for me eventually.”
“Sleep tight, pretty girl.” He disappears down the hall.
A few seconds later, Carter appears with a glass of water. He sets it down on the nightstand, then climbs into bed next to me without hesitation. His arms wrap around me the second he’s close enough.
I press my face into his chest. “You always smell like something good.”
“Laundry detergent and cinnamon gum?”
“It works for me.” We lie there like that for a minute, quiet, warm, tangled up in blankets and everything we aren’t saying. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For earlier. For this. For… you both coming.”
Carter presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Anytime, baby. Always.”
I close my eyes and let his heartbeat pull me under.