Chapter 40
Tate
Two weeks.
That’s how long it’s been since she moved in. Since her name officially became part of this house, this rhythm, this chaos we call ours.
Two weeks of split groceries and shared toothpaste.
Two weeks of waking up to her voice drifting down the hall while she streams. Two weeks of Carter falling asleep on the couch halfway through every movie night, of me pretending I don’t like it when she steals my energy drinks from the fridge when she forgets to put hers in, of her calling this place home without flinching.
And I’ve been good, shockingly good.
I’ve taken the late shifts at work. I let Carter have his soft morning routines with her.
I even folded her laundry once without being asked.
I’ve kissed her cheek and called her mine and helped fix her headset without flipping the fuck out when she moaned my name under her breath in front of 10,000 viewers.
But it’s 3:17 AM. I’m done being good.
The room is quiet, lit in that soft, signature red glow from the LED string lights lining her ceiling—the same ones Carter insisted we install on move-in day while she directed us from her bed.
Her favorite playlist plays low from the speaker on her desk, the hum of it vibrating in my ribs. The window’s cracked just enough to let in a whisper of cool fall night air.
She’s in the middle, where she always is now. One leg kicked free from the blankets and one arm slung over Carter’s waist. He’s half-wrapped around her, breathing slow and sweet like a golden retriever turned human furnace.
I’m on the other side. Staring. Hard as fuck.
One hand under the sheets, palming myself in lazy, silent strokes because I can’t not touch.
Her lashes flutter. She shifts. Mumbles something I can’t make out and Carter doesn’t even twitch. He’s dead to the world.
But I’m awake and starving. I want to break her all over again.
I bite my lip, trying to keep still. But she shifts—just slightly—and the sheet slides off her hip, baring the curve of her ass and one long, perfect thigh.
I groan. Not quite enough I guess.
Her eyes blink open. Just barely before she freezes—blinks again—and zeroes in on me.
“Tate,” she whispers, her voice wrecked and husky with sleep.
I don’t stop stroking my cock.
“You’re touching yourself?” she breathes, sitting up slowly, the sheet falling into her lap.
“Couldn’t help it,” I mutter, still working my cock slow beneath the waistband. “You were moaning in your sleep.”
She shifts like she’s going to reach for herself.
“Ah—no,” I snap quietly. “You don’t get to touch. You watch.”
Her mouth parts and her thighs press together under the blanket.
Carter stirs beside her. He groans and blinks blearily in the red light. “W-what’s going on?” he yawns.
“She woke up,” I say, licking my lips, “and caught me touching myself.”
Carter’s gaze drops. He sees my hand moving under the blanket. He sees Haven with her lip between her teeth.
“Fuck,” he breathes, sitting up. “You’re gonna kill us eventually from lack of sleep.”
“You joining me?”
He mutters and shifts the blanket down, his cock is half-hard. He wraps a hand around it, slow and smooth.
Haven watches us both, panting softly, her thighs twitching. “Please,” she whimpers. “Let me—”
“No,” I cut in. “Not yet. You just watch and be good.”
She moans like the word hit a nerve, rocking forward slightly. I pump my cock harder now, my eyes on her. “You like seeing us like this?” I groan. “Carter fisting his cock while I ruin myself thinking about your mouth?”
She nods, frantic.
Carter whimpers. “Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful right now.”
“Show us how bad you want it,” I moan harder now. “Beg.”
She drops to her knees between us on the bed. “Please. Let me touch you. Let me ride one of you—fuck, I need it. I need both of you. I can’t—”
I grab her chin, force her to look up at me. “You wanna be good?”
“Yes,” she pants.
“Then ride him.”
Her eyes snap to Carter.
His mouth parts. “Wait—me?”
“Yeah, golden boy,” I mutter. “She’s gonna ride you while I watch, and then when you’re done I’m gonna fuck her next.”
Carter leans back against the headboard, lifting his hips so Haven can straddle him. She wastes no time—knees on either side of his thighs, her hand guiding his cock in with a shuddering moan. “Oh my god,” she gasps, sinking onto him.
Carter’s hands fly to her waist. “Shit—fuck—Haven—”
Her head drops back, mouth open, hips rolling.
“You feel how deep he is?” I grit through my teeth, fisting myself again, watching every inch of her move. “You feel him stretching you, you love my brothers dick don’t you?”
“Y-Yes,” she cries.
Carter’s voice cracks. “She’s so tight. So fucking wet.”
“You’re gonna make him finish fast,” I whisper. “You love doing that, don’t you?” I stroke my cock harder.
Haven whimpers, grinding down harder.
Carter’s jaw clenches. “I’m close—fuck, I’m so close—fuck fuck fuck”
“Don’t stop,” I command. “Use him. Finish him. Make him sob.”
Carter lets out a helpless sound, high and broken, his hips bucking up into her. “Oh fuck—I’m—Haven—I’m gonna—” His body goes stiff as he whimpers her name.
She doesn’t stop moving. “Tate,” she begs, still grinding, desperate.
I’m behind her a second later, dragging her off Carter and flipping her onto her stomach while yanking her hips back.
“You’re mine now, and I’ll last much longer.” I grin, lining myself up and sliding in one brutal thrust.
She whines into the pillow, her fingers fisting the sheets.
“You missed this?” I groan, pounding into her. “Missed me ruining you while he watches?”
“Y-Yes—fuck—yes—”
Carter’s panting beside her, his eyes half-lidded, watching through the haze.
I drag her back harder, my hand sliding up her spine. “Breathe,” I whisper. “Feel every inch of my cock, all of it.”
Her eyes roll back.
“You want more?”
“Yes—yes—please—”
“Good girl.”
And then I do what I’ve wanted for weeks. I fuck her like I’m carving my name into her soul. Each thrust deep, angled to hit that spot that makes her sob.
Carter’s voice shakes me out of the moment. “She’s—fuck, Tate , she’s shaking—”
“She’s not done,” I grit out. I lean forward, my chest pressed to her back. “Too much, pretty?”
She shakes her head but it’s frantic and a sob breaks free.
That’s when I slide my hand higher. Up her chest, over her sternum. Until my fingers rest delicately beneath her jaw before I wrap my hand around her throat from behind.
Just pressure, enough to make her breath catch. Not enough to hurt, just enough for her to feel it.
To feel me.
She gasps sharp and her hips jerk. Her entire body lights up like I flipped a switch.
“That’s it,” I groan, my voice breaking as I thrust harder, deeper. “You love it, don’t you? Love when I take the breath right out of you.”
She moans and lets go with a cry so raw, I feel it punch straight through my chest. I ease the grip immediately. “Good fucking girl,” I whisper. “You did so good for me.”
When she finally falls apart on my cock, screaming my name into the mattress, I follow with a moan, burying myself deep and coming so hard my vision goes white.
I fall onto the mattress beside her, panting.
Carter reaches for her with trembling hands as she curls between us. I press a kiss to her temple. He presses one to her shoulder.
“I’m not sorry,” I whisper.
“Good, don’t be.”
I huff out a quiet laugh, brushing my thumb along her arm, watching the way she settles between us like she’s always belonged here. “Good, because I signed us up for the next tournament.”
Carter groans. “Tate—”
Haven lifts her head slightly. “What tournament?”
“Relax, it’s just the next level up pretty girl.”