Page 145 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Beckett rasped against her shoulder, his hands gripping her hips as he thrust slow and deep. “Taking me so well.”

Asher kissed her jaw. “Think you can come again, baby?”

“Yes,” she panted. “Please.”

I kissed her mouth as Beckett pounded into her, her body rocking between us, every touch electric. I stroked her clit in slow, tight circles, watching her fall apart in our hands.

“Let go,” I whispered. “We’ve got you.”

And she did, eyes fluttering shut, a cry tearing from her throat as her second orgasm hit, her entire body tightening around Beckett as he growled and came with her.

Asher took her next, flipping her to her back, pushing her thighs wide as he sank into her.

Her nails raked down his back, her cries sharper, her need insatiable. I kissed her neck, her lips, her breasts, feeding off every moan while Beckett watched, still panting, eyes dark.

Asher’s rhythm grew wild, hips snapping into her with unrelenting force.

“Fuck, Riley.” he choked out, coming with a shuddering groan.

By the time I entered her, she was boneless, wrecked, radiant. But she still pulled me in, greedy for more.

I took her slow, savoring every roll of her hips, every flutter of her walls around me. Her name fell from my lips like prayer, a surrender, and when I finally came, it was with a growl, my body emptying into her, my soul unraveling.

When we collapsed in a tangle of limbs, hearts pounding, sweat slick and completely undone, I knew something had changed.

This wasit.Truly, for all of us.

There could be no hesitation anymore.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Riley

I woke up warm.Really warm.

For a second, I didn’t know where I was. Then I felt the weight of an arm slung over my waist, a second one brushing my thigh, and the deep, even breaths of three sleeping men pressed in close on either side of me.

The fireplace had burned low, but the bed was a furnace of tangled limbs and slow, steady heartbeats. I smiled before I even opened my eyes.

My body ached in the best kind of way, my thighs sore, lips still swollen from hours of kissing, and something soft and achy humming in my chest.

Asher was curled behind me, his hand resting low over the curve of my belly. Beckett had thrown one leg over both of ours, basically pinning me in place, while Garrett snored lightly, almost curled up into a ball.

I’d never felt so safe.

For a minute, I didn’t move. I only breathed. Let myself soak in the stillness, the crackling logs, the scent of woodsmoke and skin and home.

And then I made the mistake of thinking it would last.

I untangled myself as gently as I could, slipping out from between them with whispered apologies they didn’t hear.

My body felt like it belonged tomeagain, and somehow to them, too, and I couldn’t stop the little flutter that rose in my chest as I tugged on one of Beckett’s T-shirts and padded toward the bathroom.

The water steamed fast, filling the small bathroom with heat. I stood under the spray, letting it pound the tension from my shoulders, washing away the leftover fear and guilt and all the things I hadn’t yet figured out how to name.

It was the day after Christmas, and for once, I didn’t feel like a walking disaster.

I dried off slowly, wrapped my hair in a towel, and reached for my phone to check the time.

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