Page 89 of Twins for the Mountain Daddies

We sit there for a while, just taking it all in. I try not to think about all the things I’m still avoiding. Wyatt makes it easy when he presses a soft kiss to my neck. Then I can’t think of anything except how good it feels.

Wyatt’s hand slides under my shirt, his palm hot against my skin. Holt watches us, his eyes dark with want. He presses his thumb into the seam of my jeans, rubbing it against my clit until I gasp.

“Too much?” he asks, a wicked grin on his face.

“Not enough,” I say, my voice breathless.

Wyatt laughs softly, his lips moving to my shoulder. “She’s greedy.”

“Better do something about it,” Holt says, his fingers working the button of my jeans.

Holt kisses his way down my thigh, his stubble rough against my skin, as he relieves me of my jeans and panties. More clothes are shed, more kisses shared. I’m not sure how I end up straddling Holt’s lap, but I don’t care.

“Fuck, Ivy,” Holt groans as he slides his hands up my thighs. “You’re something else.”

I don’t know how to answer, so I kiss him instead. He tastes like syrup and coffee from breakfast. His mouth is hot and insistent, his tongue teasing mine until I’m dizzy and panting.

Wyatt tugs my shirt over my head, his lips trailing down my spine. I shiver, my body arching into him. I feel him grin against my skin, and then his fingers are sliding between my legs, rubbing my clit in slow, torturous circles.

Holt’s hand moves to my breast, pinching my nipple through the lace of my bra. I moan, pressing harder against Wyatt’s fingers, desperate for more.

“Think she likes that,” Wyatt says, his voice low and amused.

Holt chuckles, a deep rumble in his chest. “Think she likes both of us.”

I don’t just like it. I love it. I’ve never wanted anything this much, and it scares me how right it feels.

Wyatt pulls me back against him, and I can feel how hard he is, pressing against me through his jeans. His hands move to my hips, holding me tight as I rock against Holt.

The world narrows to this moment, to the three of us tangled together. I’m not sure where I end and they begin, and I don’t care. I just want more.

“Please,” I whisper, not even sure what I’m asking for.

Holt’s hands find the clasp of my bra, and he pulls it off, tossing it aside. He looks up at me, his eyes burning. “Please what?”

“Everything.”

He grins and pushes his jeans down, kicking them off. “You heard the lady, Wy.”

Wyatt’s hands slide lower, his fingers brushing against my ass. “I got her,” he says, and I can hear the heat in his voice.

Holt holds my hips, guiding me down onto him, and I gasp at the feel of him stretching me. He’s thick and long and he fits me oh so perfectly.

“Fuck,” he groans, his head falling back against the seat. “So damn tight.”

I move slowly at first, getting used to the feel of him inside me, but it’s not enough. I want him deeper, harder. I want everything. Wyatt’s fingers press against my ass, and I let out a shaky breath, nodding, needing to feel him too.

Wyatt presses his finger harder against that tight ring of muscle until he’s sliding into me. I cry out, the sensation overwhelming. He moves in time with Holt, thrust for thrust, until I’m sure I’m going to come apart. I reach out, gripping Wyatt by the base and squeezing.

Holt’s hands dig into my hips, holding me in place as he pounds into me. “Fuck, Ivy,” he pants. “You feel so good.”

I can’t answer, can’t think, can’t breathe. Wyatt’s mouth is on my neck, his teeth grazing my skin. “You gonna come, City Girl?” he murmurs, his finger pushing deeper.

I nod, my body trembling. “I—I can’t?—”

“Yeah, you can,” Holt says, his voice rough and urgent. “Come for us.”

Wyatt’s thumb finds my clit, flicking over it, and I shatter, the orgasm ripping through me in waves.

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