21. Haven
21
Haven
I am a complete fucking mess. Carter has no fucking clue what he’s just done to me. He’s still between my thighs, his hands flexing against my hips, still struggling to believe that any of this is real.
He doesn’t even realize he’s already ruined me, and he hasn’t even fucked me yet. I should be pushing him further, pulling him into me, making him feel what he’s made me desperate for. Just as I reach for him, and as I start to move beneath him, I feel it.
The hesitation. The tension pulling back into his muscles, the second-guessing creeping in, the nerves that I can literally see starting to take over.
His fingers twitch on my waist. His lips part like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t. He’s nervous again. Because he wants this—God, I can feel how much he wants this.
But I also know he’s overthinking. This isn’t just sex, this is everything. So before he can spiral and start thinking himself out of it, I reach up, curling my fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him up to me, kissing him slowly. The second my lips meet his, his body melts into mine.
The tension in his shoulders eases, his grip on me softens. I know he needs to hear it, because I know he needs to know this is okay, I whisper against his lips, “You don’t have to. We can stop.”
His entire body goes tight again. He pulls back just slightly, just enough to meet my gaze, just enough for me to see the conflict stirring behind his eyes.
He shakes his head. “I-I don’t want to stop Haven.” His voice is low, so fucking sure. His fingers dig into my skin, his body pressing into mine, his breath hitching when he adds, “This is… this is the single most perfect moment of my life.”
That hesitation, gone. Instead, he’s looking at me like he’s ready to give me everything, like I’m the only thing in the world that matters, like this is the moment he’s been waiting for his entire life. And fuck, now I need to figure out how the hell we’re actually going to do this.
His cock is big, bigger than I was prepared for and definitely bigger than I’ve ever dealt with. I swallow hard, forcing myself to think through it. This is his first time, which means I need to make it good for him. Which means I need to be in control.That means… on top.
Fuck . That would be the best for him but the worst for me. Because having him like that, watching him completely fall apart while I ride him, knowing he’s never felt anything like this before?
That’s going to kill me. God, I want it.
I want to see the way his body reacts when he’s finally inside me, want to watch the way he loses his mind when he realizes how good it feels, want to hear the way he whimpers my name when I show him exactly how perfect this is going to be.
I want him, now. I shift slightly, bracing myself, thinking about how I’m going to ease us into this. And then, out of nowhere, a thought slams into my brain.
Tate. What the fuck?
I blink, heart hammering, body tensing, pulse jumping in my throat because why, why the hell is my brain doing this right now. This is about Carter, and I’m thinking about his brother? I shake it off, force myself to refocus, this is his moment. Not Tate’s, and I’m about to make sure he never forgets it.
His chest is heaving, his hands are gripping my thighs like he doesn’t trust himself to move, his cock is so hard, so fucking thick, pulsing against my stomach as I guide him into position.
He’s still shaking his head, still trying to breathe, still looking at me like he has no idea how the fuck this is happening. “Jesus Christ, Haven.”
I smirk, dragging my hands down his stomach, feeling the way his muscles twitch beneath my fingers. “Just trust me.”
I move, taking him in my hand, guiding him down, pressing the tip of him against my soaking wet pussy, sliding him along my clit, letting him feel just how fucking ready I am for him.
His breath punches out of him in a broken sound, his fingers digging into my skin like he’s barely keeping it together. “F-Fuck,” he stammers, head falling back, his entire body trembling beneath me.
God, he’s so sensitive. I keep going, dragging him along me, teasing him, showing him how good this is going to feel. “This helps,” I murmur, voice soft but sure, “for both of us.”
His hips jerk. Just slightly. Just enough for his tip to catch, just enough for him to feel the way I clench around nothing, the way I’m so fucking desperate to take him inside me. That’s when he completely falls apart. His hands snap up, gripping my waist, his breath coming out ragged, his body fighting itself like he doesn’t know whether to pull away or push in, whether to stop or let this happen, whether to lose himself completely or try to hold on.
I don’t give him the chance to hesitate. Just enough to take the thick head of him inside me, just enough to feel that stretch, that pressure, that first overwhelming inch—
And holy fuck.
“Oh, fuck.”
The whimper escapes before I can stop it, my head tipping back, my breath stuttering out of me like I’ve been sucker-punched.
He’s so fucking big.
His name is ripped from my throat, and I can feel the way his entire body reacts to it, the way he groans so deep it vibrates through me, the way his grip tightens like he’s barely hanging on.
“Mmm fuck—” He’s panting beneath me, his fingers flexing, his stomach tensing, his cock pulsing inside me like he’s seconds away from losing it already. He’s trying so hard to be good.
Trying so hard to not come. I’ve never seen anything hotter in my life.
I brace my hands against his chest, steadying myself, grounding myself, forcing my body to relax as I guide him further in, rocking against him, showing him exactly how I need this to go. “Slower Carter.”
I press my lips to his jaw, whispering against his skin. “You need to focus on a rhythm.”
He groans, head dropping forward, forehead pressing against my shoulder as he tries to breathe through it. He’s shaking, struggling. Trying to hold on.
Slowly, so carefully, like he’s terrified to hurt me, terrified to go too far—he thrusts. His hands grip my hips like they’re the only thing tethering him to reality. He’s so thick it borders on overwhelming, and he’s trying so fucking hard to stay in control. The way his fingers keep flexing like he’s reminding himself not to move too fast, not to come too quick, not to ruin it.
I lean in, lips brushing his ear, “Y-yes, just like that.”
That’s all it takes. His hips jerk, his breath leaves him in a broken, groan— fuck — He thrusts up into me again harder, driving himself so deep.
“Oh, fuck—Carter—”
He’s panting now, sweat beading at his temples, mouth open and eyes squeezed shut like he’s seconds from shattering.
I want to watch him break. Right. Under. Me.
I barely get the words out before he does it again, I can barely handle it. I claw at his chest, digging my nails into his skin, as I try to keep up with the way he’s finally, finally letting himself take what he wants. I’m not going to last. Not with Carter fucking me like this.
My fingers dig into the back of the couch, my nails pressing into the fabric, my body rocking forward with every single thrust, and I can’t, fuck, I can’t handle this.
I was supposed to be in control. I was supposed to take care of him, guide him, show him how to move, how to make this good for both of us.
His hands tighten on my hips, his grip almost bruising as he thrusts up into me, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room, the sharp, desperate noises ripping from his throat like he’s barely keeping himself together.
He’s trying to talk. Trying to tell me how good this feels, how much he loves the way I feel around him, how fucking perfect I am for him.
But all that comes out are broken moans, low grunts, sharp gasps between words he can’t quite form. “So… f-fucking perfect—”
His head falls back, his lips parting as another moan spills from him, his hips snapping up harder, deeper, hitting me exactly where I need him.
I moan, my fingers slipping against the couch, my body starting to tremble, pulling him in, dragging him deeper.
His grip tightens, his breath shudders, his cock pulses inside me, and then he’s fully gone, fully fucking mine. I’m barely holding on.
I push back, letting my spine curve, letting Carter have a little more control, letting him move the way he needs to. And oh, fuck—Too much.
A sharp yelp leaves my lips, my hands flying up to grip his wrists, nails pressing into his skin. “N-Not so much—” I gasp, my breath hitching as he instantly slows, his body shuddering, his fingers flexing on my hips like he’s fighting himself, like he’s trying to hold back.
He nods without speaking, his jaw clenched tight, his groans soft, filling my ears like the best fucking thing I’ve ever heard. I let myself sink into it.
I close my eyes, let my head tip onto the back of the couch, let my body take in every single sensation, every deep thrust, every delicious pull, every second of Carter finally learning how to let go.
Just as I’m completely lost in the way he’s making me feel, in the way I’m starting to feel the build creeping through me, in the way I’m so close to falling apart for him. Something warm presses against my lips.
I freeze. The air in my lungs locks up, my entire body goes rigid. Before I can even open my eyes, I feel him. Tate. His fingers stay firm against my mouth, silencing me, while his other hand moves slow, deliberate, filthy.
He’s stroking himself. Right in front of me.
His fingers curl around the thick length of his cock, the motion lazy, teasing like he’s doing it just to fuck with me, just to make sure I know exactly what’s happening. Just to make sure I feel it.
I shouldn’t be watching him. I shouldn’t be focused on anything except Carter, still buried inside me, still moaning in my ear, still gripping my hips like I’m the only thing holding him together.
But I can’t look away. His breath is slow, but his hand’s moving faster now,his cock thick and hard in his grip, his hips shifting like he’s fucking into his own palm, like he’s the one moaning inside me instead of his twin.
I am losing my fucking mind. My brain is static. Carter is trembling beneath me, his voice falling apart in my ear, and all I can see is Tate, stroking, teasing, watching me with that dark, filthy gleam in his eyes like he already owns me.
So I do the only thing I can think of. I turn my face toward him, slide my fingers through his hair, and drag my nails across his scalp as I pant against his lips. “Talk dirty to me.”
Carter chokes on a groan but he tries, pushing through, giving me what I asked for, even as his mind is spinning from the way I feel wrapped around him. “You feel so fucking good—so tight—so—”
He thrusts in too deep. My mouth falls open, my back arches, a sharp whine ripping from my throat as my body jerks against him, my nails pressing into his skin.
Tate’s fingers tighten around his cock, his grip rougher now, his hips thrusting forward into his own hand, a low groan slipping past his lips behind the mask. I hear it. I see it. I feel my entire body betray me. Because I like it, I fucking like it.
Carter is about to come, I can feel it in the way his hips snap up harder, in the way his body trembles against mine, in the way his breath stutters, desperate, as he buries his face against my throat. “I—I’m sorry,” he pants, voice breaking, “I can’t—fuck—I can’t hold back anymore.”
I don’t want him to do anything except what he’s doing, ruining me, losing himself in me, giving me every single inch of his inexperience and desperation.
A low, sharp breath just above me. Tate is closer, so much fucking closer. His cock is right there, inches from my lips now, glistening, and he knows I see him.
His strokes slow down, drawn-out passes of his hand over his cock, his hips rolling into it like he’s savoring every second. Like this is just as much for him as it is for me.
Carter is still inside me, still fucking me, still apologizing between his broken whimpers, still completely unaware of the way his brother is standing right next to us, watching, jerking himself off like this is a goddamn show.
I should stop it. I should tell him to leave, but I don’t know if I want to. Tate moves in closer, his cock brushes against my lips, hot, sticky, gliding over the softness of them like he’s testing me.
My breath shudders, my lips parting just slightly, involuntary, instinctual, my entire body still trembling from the way Carter is still moving inside me. He notices, I feel it in the way his rhythm stutters, the way his fingers tense against my skin, the way his breath catches like something just doesn’t feel right.
He grips my hips harder, his thrusts turning sharp, deep, pulling another moan from my lips. “What’s wrong, baby?”
I can’t fucking think. Tate’s cock drags over my mouth again, smearing precum against my lips, teasing, waiting, pushing the boundaries just a little more, just a little further, just enough that my mind is spiraling, my body burning, my pussy clamping down on Carter so tight I feel his entire body shudder beneath me.
The only thing I can manage, because my brain is too fogged to form anything else, because it’s the only word that matters in this moment, I pant out his name. “Tate.”
Carter freezes beneath me, his rhythm faltering, confusion heavy in his voice. “What—what do you mean, Tate?”
But before I can even attempt to answer, before my brain can catch up, before I can explain the mess unfolding around us, Carter accidentally slams me down, burying himself fully, completely inside me. I moan, loud, as I come around his cock, my body convulsing, clamping down so tight on him that he groans, broken and stunned, beneath me.
Tate leans in closer, his voice dripping with wicked amusement as he groans, “Make her come even harder, Carter.”
Carter’s entire body locks up beneath me. His breath catches. His fingers dig painfully into my hips, realization hitting him all at once, sharp and devastating, his voice hoarse and completely shattered as he whispers, “What the fuck?”
Tate’s voice fills the silence, low, authoritative. “You heard me, Carter.”
He moves closer. “Make her cum even harder.” Then he reaches down, curling his fingers beneath my chin, forcing me to look up at him. He tilts my head back, stroking himself again, slow, making sure Carter sees exactly what he’s about to do, exactly what he wants.
Carter’s entire body jerks beneath me, his confusion quickly replaced by a new kind of determination. His fingers dig into my hips, but I don’t care, because in the next moment, he’s thrusting into me again. Harder. Deeper.
He whispers, a challenge aimed straight at his brother, even as he fucks me so deeply I can almost stars. “You’re not ruining this for me, Tate.”
But Tate just groans, his voice smooth and sinful as he strokes his cock again, guiding the glistening tip back to my parted lips.
“Don’t worry, little brother,” he murmurs, “while you’re busy filling her up, I’ll make sure I fill her fucking throat.”
Carter groans at that, hips slamming into me so deeply, that every rational thought dissolves, every objection disappears, because I’m completely, utterly lost between the two of them.
Held down by Carter’s desperate, erratic thrusts, his groans breaking apart against my skin as he fucks me like he can’t stop, like he doesn’t want to.
Tate doesn’t need to be guided. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t fumble, doesn’t wait for me to adjust to the sheer size of him as he presses the thick head of his cock to my lips. He knows I’ll take him, knows I want it. He grabs a fistful of my hair, tilting my head back, rubbing his cock over my swollen lips, letting me taste the precum soaking his cock before he pushes in.
Fuck. He’s just as big as Carter.
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.”
Carter’s breath stutters, his grip bruising, his entire body locking up, then, he lets go filling me. Spilling inside me with a broken whimper, his fingers digging in so tight.
Tate is right fucking there with him. His cock throbs against my tongue, his fingers tangled in my hair as he groans low, rough, completely unbothered as he fills my throat, holding me there, making sure I swallow every single drop.
Carter shudders beneath me, his breath uneven, his body still trembling.
Tate cocks his head as he drags his fingers down my jaw before pulling back just enough to tilt my chin up and force me to look at him. “Oh, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his thumb presses against my lips, smearing his cum across them. “We’re just getting started.”