35. Haven
35
Haven
T ate doesn’t slow down, or ease up. He doesn’t let me breathe, he just pounds into me, unrelenting, his cock slamming deep, stretching me, making my body seize, making my moans break, making my vision blur as another orgasm rips through me so fast I barely have time to brace for it.
I whine, my nails biting into Tate’s forearms, my entire body trembling as the pleasure rolls through me, wave after devastating wave, my pussy clamping down around him, so tight, so fucking ruined.
“Oh go—“ I start to choke out before Tate clamps a hand over my mouth.
“No, no god here pretty, you hear that?” he groans. “That wet sound your pussy’s making for me? You’re soaking my cock. The only thing to be worshiped here.”
I need more, even as I kiss Carter messy, desperate, tongue searching, lips barely able to keep up with the way I’m falling apart, I need more.
Carter moans into my mouth, still stroking himself, so fucking close but holding back, his body tense, his breath ragged, his cock heavy and throbbing in his hand.
And fuck, I want him. I need him. I barely manage to find my voice between gasps, between moans, between the overwhelming pleasure ripping through me. “Carter—”
His head jerks up, his eyes dark, his body trembling beneath my touch.
I whimper, arching, my lips brushing against his jaw, my voice breaking as I manage the words that make Tate snap.
“I want your cock.”
Tate groans, his grip tightening, his thrusts turning brutal, unforgiving, a edge in his voice as he shoves me back, flipping me onto my back on the bed, my legs spread, my breath gone, my body still pulsing from my last orgasm as he pulls out of me in one swift motion. He slaps his cock against my swollen clit.
Once. Twice. The wet, filthy sound echoing through the room, making me jolt, making my entire body jerk with the overstimulation, making my breath catch as Tate leans over me. “You heard her, little brother.”
He smirks, still teasing me, still rubbing the thick, dripping head of his cock over my clit, making me whimper, making me tremble, making me beg. “Come fill her up.”
Carter doesn’t hesitate. The second Tate gives the command, the second he hears those words, he moves, lining himself up, gripping my waist, sinking back inside me in one slow, devastating thrust that has my entire body locking up, my breath stalling, my hands gripping the sheets as I stretch around him all over again. He groans, deep, his head tilting back, his fingers pressing bruises into my skin as he pulls out just as slowly, only to push back in, his movements careful, deliberate, like he’s savoring it, like he’s letting himself feel every tight, dripping inch of me.
“Fuck—” Carter’s voice breaks, his breath heavy, his cock throbbing inside me. “You’re so—God, Haven—”
Tate’s right there, kneeling beside me, gripping my chin, tilting my head back, his other hand still stroking himself, his cock thick, flushed, still dripping as he brushes the swollen head against my lips.
I whimper, my body arching, my tongue licking out to tease him, tasting the salt, the heat, the raw need pouring from both of them. Tate groans, his fingers tightening around my jaw, his voice dropping lower.
“That’s right.” he murmurs, his cock pressing against my lips, waiting, teasing, demanding. “Open up.”
I can feel Carter’s body tensing, his hands flexing against my waist, his thrusts growing erratic, desperate, his cock throbbing inside me, so fucking close to filling me up. His moans are soft, trembling, his head dipping, his lips pressing against my shoulder, my collarbone, my chest, his breath warm and uneven as his voice breaks against my skin.
“Haven—fuck—” His hands grip tighter, his pace quickening, his movements losing control. “I can’t—God, you feel so good—I can’t hold back—”
Tate, who has his cock fully buried in my mouth, who has my hair wrapped around his fist, who is groaning low, dark, hungry, the exact opposite of Carter’s soft desperation. Tate, who is fucking my throat slow and deep, who is tilting my head up just right, who is watching every reaction I give them. “Take it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his fingers tightening in my hair, his hips rolling, his cock gliding along my tongue. “You want to be full, don’t you? Want to be stuffed with both of us?”
I moan, muffled around him, my body arching as Carter drives into me harder, his breath catching, his words breaking.
“F-Fuck—Haven, I—”
“Come inside her, little brother,” Tate orders, his voice silk and sin, his tone almost encouraging. “Fill her up.”
Carter shudders, his groan vibrating against my skin, his fingers digging in, his entire body tensing. His hands gripping me so fucking tight, his breath breaking, his hips snapping forward, hard, desperate, completely wrecked as he slams deep, buries himself inside me, and finally lets go.
A shattered moan rips from his throat as he spills into me, as his cock throbs inside me, as his cum floods me, coating my walls, stuffing me so full I swear I can feel it dripping already. “Haven—fuck, baby—” His voice is soft, broken, so fucking sweet even as he’s shaking, even as his body locks up, even as he fucks his cum deeper into me, as he keeps thrusting, slow now, but still deep, still dragging it out, still making sure I feel every last drop.
Tate grips my hair tighter and fucks my mouth harder, his cock sliding deep, filling me, making me take every inch. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his breath sharp as he watches Carter fall apart, as he watches me struggle to handle both of them, my body stretched, used, ruined. “You love this, don’t you? Letting him fill that pretty little pussy while I fuck your mouth?”
I whimper, my moan muffled, my hands gripping the sheets, my body still trembling, still feeling Carter’s cock pulsing inside me.
Carter groans, his hands sliding to my stomach, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against my skin, so fucking sweet, so fucking perfect, even as he watches Tate use me.
“You’re amazing, Haven,” he breathes, his lips pressing against my stomach, my hip, my thigh, as if he’s worshipping me, as if I’m the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to him.
Tate starts to slow, his thrusts turning deeper, heavier, dragging his cock along my tongue, letting me feel every inch, every pulse as he gets closer, as his grip on my hair tightens, as his breath starts to break, sharp and uneven.
His dirty talk, once so smooth, so controlled, is coming out in stuttered murmurs now, rough, desperate, barely keeping its usual arrogance.
“F-Fuck—your mouth—” His groan vibrates deep, his thumb brushing my cheek, his voice dipping into something softer, something wrecked. “S-So f-fucking perfect—God—”
I can feel him throbbing against my tongue, can hear the low, shattered breaths he lets out, can see the way his thighs tense, the way his muscles flex, he’s barely hanging on, barely able to hold back, barely able to stop himself from finishing right here, down my throat.
He glances at Carter, jaw tight, eyes dark, voice strained as he forces the words out through gritted teeth. “G-Get a…a towel. C-Clean her up.”
Carter jerks his head up, his brown eyes still glazed, his face still flushed, his body still recovering from the orgasm he just gave me, from the way he filled me, from the way I’m trembling around him. He moves, stumbling slightly as he gets up, still breathless, trying to keep up with everything happening.
I hear the drawer open, the sound of fabric rustling, the warm weight of a towel pressing between my legs as Carter carefully, gently, starts cleaning me up, his touch soft, delicate, as if he’s trying to make up for everything they just did to me.
ate lets out another broken groan, his cock twitching, his breath shuddering as he thrusts deep into my mouth one last time.
The second Carter finishes cleaning me up, the warm towel brushing over my swollen, aching pussy with the softest, most careful touch, Tate pulls out of my mouth with a low groan, his cock slipping free, glossy with my spit, twitching, desperate, but he doesn’t let himself finish.
His hands grip my thighs, spreading me open again, and his mouth is on me. Hot, wet, filthy, devouring me with a hunger that makes my entire body jolt, makes my back arch, makes my thighs tremble.
“Tate—fuck—” My fingers sink into his dark hair, tugging, trying to ground myself, trying to process the way his tongue flicks against my clit, the way his lips wrap around it, the way he moans as he eats me like he’s starving for it, like he needs to make me fall apart again before he lets himself have what he wants.
He’s stroking himself as he does it, his fist tight around his cock, his body tensing, his breath hot against my drenched, overstimulated pussy as he pushes me closer—closer—closer.
Carter is kissing me. His lips brush against mine, his hands sliding up my sides, over my ribs, into my hair, holding me there, keeping me grounded even as Tate devours me, even as another orgasm coils in my stomach, tight and devastating.
“You’re so perfect, baby,” Carter whispers between kisses, his voice gentle, so fucking sweet, so fucking different from Tate’s brutal desperation. “I love watching you like this. I love feeling you like this, you’re so good for us.”
“That’s the problem. You’re too fucking good.” Tate hums against me. “And I want to watch you come so hard you cry.” His lips vibrating over my clit, and I shatter.
“Oh, fuck—Tate—” My entire body locks up, my nails biting into his scalp, my back arching, my legs shaking as another orgasm slams through me, as I come hard against his mouth, as my vision goes hazy, as my breath breaks.
Tate doesn’t stop, he’s on top of me, gripping my waist, yanking me down, slamming his cock inside me in one deep, brutal thrust just as I’m still riding out my orgasm, just as I’m still pulsing, still trembling.
I moan desperately, my head tipping back, my body writhing beneath him, his cock so thick, so deep, stuffing me full all over again as I gush all over him, soaking him, my pussy clenching, squeezing, pulling him even deeper.
“Fucking hell, Haven—” Tate groans, his fingers digging into my hips, his breath ragged, his cock throbbing inside me, barely holding back.
Carter is still kissing me. His hands caress my face, his lips brushing over my cheek, my jaw, my mouth, whispering soft, sweet things that sound like comfort, like affection, like something I can’t process right now, not when Tate is still deep inside me, still throbbing, still filling me, still holding me there like he owns me.