Page 210 of Well That Happened

I barely have time to breathe before I’m being moved—lifted, shifted—Grayson easing out while Hunter takes his place behind me.

“Still with us?” he asks, hands spreading my thighs like I might say no and he’ll still take me anyway.

“Barely,” I whisper.

“Good,” he says, pushing into me with one deep, claiming thrust that knocks the breath out of my lungs. “I want to ruin what’s left.”

I sob his name—half-plea, half-praise—and he fucks me like he means it. No teasing, no hesitation. Just possession, rhythm, and pure, unfiltered want. Caleb grips my hip, one rough palm just above my ass, while Hunter pounds into me from behind like he’s chasing something only I can give him.

“You feel like everything,” he grits out, hips stuttering. “You feel likehome.”

Then softer—quieter, but with more weight than I can stand—he whispers against my neck.

“I didn’t think I’d ever have something like this. And now I’d tear the sky down before I let it go.”

I shatter again, harder than before, sobbing through it as Hunter groans and comes inside me with a trembling curse. He stays pressed to my back, chest heaving, mouth buried in my shoulder like he can’t quite let go.

When he finally pulls out, I collapse into the pillows, spent and aching.

“I think I’m dead,” I mumble.

“You’re not,” Caleb says, voice deceptively gentle as he coaxes me onto my back. “Because I’m next.”

“Oh god,” I whisper, legs already trembling as he settles between them.

He pushes in with a low growl and a kiss to my temple. “I’ll go slow.”

He doesn’t.

Because he can’t. Because we’re past slow and deep into desperation. Caleb fucks me like he’s chasing the memory of every time I’ve ever looked at him like I needed him.

It’s too much.

His thick cock is coated in me, in all of us. And as he moves, it makes the most deliciously filthy wet slapping sound.

He lifts up slightly, brushing my hair back. “One more for me, princess?”

“Ican’t,” I whimper, even as my body arches toward him. “You’re insane.”

“One more,” he begs, rocking against me slowly. “Please?”

I hate him.

I love him.

I shake my head. “Can’t.”

“Can and will,” he corrects.

And just when I open my mouth to argue, Grayson brings his hand between us, rubbing my clit with expert precision.

“Come on Caleb’s dick, baby,” he whispers, voice a low, rough plea.

And then I feel it building inside me—somehow, impossibly—Caleb does too, groaning my name like a prayer.

I come again, sobbing into his neck, and he finishes with a strangled moan and a whisperedthat’s my good girlthat makes my chest ache.

He drops over me, panting. “Holy shit.”

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