Page 32 of Gifted To His Dad

“It’s okay. We’ve got you.” Cole drops his forehead against mine. “Do you want to keep going?”

Swallowing hard, I nod.

“Good. Now, relax.”

“That’s easier said than done,” I joke, but it’s cut off as Cole enters me inch by inch.

The sensation is mind-bending. I didn’t know it was possible to take them both, let alone that it would feel this good.

My lungs burn from holding my breath until my head tingles and black spots fill my vision.

Griffin’s large hand cups my breast. “Breathe, baby. You’ve got this. Look how well you’re taking us.”

There’s no semblance of thought. I’m lost to them, following whatever they say as they both alternate their thrusts, pushing into me repeatedly.

Cole presses kisses into my neck. “That’s my girl. I can feel your pussy pulse around us.”

A wave of pleasure crests and then crashes over me again until an overwhelming pressure forms below my navel.

“Wait,” I cry out, but they just push into me harder, both of them chasing their own climax.

They groan in unison, their hot cum shooting into me.

My body trembles as my muscles tighten, trying to hold this unfamiliar feeling back. I’m lost to it when they pull out, causing my orgasm to seize my whole body, drenching them in my release.

I come over and over again, until the bed’s soaked around us.

It’s several moments later before I’m coherent enough for embarrassment to crawl up my neck.

“I’m sorry. That’s never happened before.”

Cole meets my gaze. “What are you sorry about? That was fucking hot.”

Griffin kisses my temple. “You’re perfect.”

They wash me, my body too liquid to hold myself up, wrap me in a towel, and sit me on the floor in front of the sofa. I rest between Griffin’s firm legs, breathing in his forest scent as I attempt to watch the movie playing on the TV. Long fingers stroke through my hair before a comb untangles the ends.

I reach up. “I can do that.”

“You’re exhausted. Just relax.”

I don’t have the strength to argue with him, so I drop my head forward as he carefully combs out the tangles until my wet hair falls smoothly around me. I already feel cherished whenCole brings me a glass of Gatorade, telling me to make sure I finish it.

If they weren’t trying so hard, it would be ridiculous. Instead, warmth fills my chest with everything they do.

The buzz of a blow dryer turning on pulls my attention, but Griffin guides my head to the front as he dries my hair.

“You don’t have to do that. It can dry on its own,” I mumble, aware it’s almost impossible to hear me.

Griffin’s rough fingers squeeze the back of my neck. “Enough of that. I don’t want you getting sick.”

If he wants to, I’m not going to stop him. My eyes close, the heat relaxing me further until I’m seconds from passing out.

Griffin lifts me over his knees when my hair’s dry. “Don’t fall asleep yet.”

Cole kneels in front of us, his lip caught between his teeth. He looks nervous, and I want to soothe it away. There’s nothing they can say to me I wouldn’t like.

Griffin and Cole have some kind of silent conversation, and Cole nods.

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