“Sensitive?” I whisper.
“Yes,” she breathes.
“Good.”
Hunter’s hands are already sliding down her sides. His fingers graze over her thighs, then spread her open slightly so he can see her better. She’s dripping—water and want—and we haven’t even truly started.
“You’re so wet for us,” he murmurs, his voice rough around the edges.
“Always,” she says, almost defiantly.
I slide a hand between her legs, fingers gliding through her folds. She jerks slightly, hips rolling back into me.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “She’s so ready.”
Hunter kneels in front of her, the water cascading over his shoulders. He lifts one of her legs over his shoulder and steadies her with a hand on her waist. Ivy’s fingers tighten in my hair as he lowers his mouth to her.
“Oh my god,” she gasps, her head falling back against my shoulder.
I hold her steady, palm flat on her stomach, the other cupping her breast again. Tremors build in her thighs. Her breath is shaky, her knees weak.
Hunter’s eating her out like he’s starving. No hesitation. No patience. Just deep, slow licks, then fast ones when she starts to pant.
He groans into her like he loves the taste of her, like it’s more satisfying than anything he’s ever known.
She starts to fall forward, but I catch her.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper, holding her tighter.
Her legs are shaking now, the tension in her body winding tight. Then?—
“Rhett—Hunter—I’m gonna?—”
Her body locks up.
I kiss her temple. “Let go, baby. We’ve got you.”
She shatters.
It starts with a gasp, then a moan that turns into a high, desperate cry. Her whole body jerks once, then again, as the orgasm rolls through her like a wave she couldn’t stop if she tried. I hold her through it, grounding her, while Hunter eases her down gently.
When she finally sags against me, boneless, I kiss the top of her head.
Hunter stands, lips glistening, eyes dark with lust. “I need to fuck her.”
“So do I,” I say, my voice rough now. “Bed?”
She just nods.
We towel off fast, drying her first. Hunter kisses her shoulder, and I carry her to the bedroom like she weighs nothing. Her legs wrap around my waist, her arms around my neck. She kisses me lazily as we move, like she’s still drunk on the release.
The sheets are cool when I lower her onto them. She lies back, hair wet, eyes hazy, lips parted.
Hunter grabs the lube and a condom from the drawer. I follow her onto the bed, kissing her collarbone, her chest, her stomach.
“I need to be inside you,” I tell her.
“I know,” she whispers. “Please.”
