Page 92 of Cross Check Daddies
Cam stills inside her, breathing ragged. I move behind her, one arm around her waist as I press slow kisses to her shoulder.
“You sure?” I ask against her skin.
“Yes. I want to feel full. I want all of you.”
I lube myself with the slickness already coating her, then push gently against her tight rim. She gasps, whole body trembling, but she doesn’t pull away—she pushes back.
Cam kisses her while I stretch her slowly, giving her time. Inch by inch, I work myself into her until we’re both buried inside. Her cunt grips Cam while her ass stretches around me, and she’s sandwiched between us, her body taken and worshipped in equal measure.
She’s shaking, sweating, moaning like she’s never been touched like this before.
We hold her there, completely filled, completely ours.
Then we start to move.
Cam fucks her slow and deep while I thrust behind her, our rhythm synchronized, grinding into her until she’s keening. Hereyes roll back. Her mouth drops open. Her nails drag down my arm. She’s unraveling in our hands, not just fucked butheld, not just taken butadored.
“Mine,” Cam growls, hips slamming forward.
“Ours,” I correct, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck as I drive in harder.
Her body tenses—then explodes.
She comes with a scream, full-body, legs locking, both holes clenching around us so tightly it nearly pulls us under with her. I spill inside her first, groaning into her shoulder, then Cam follows, buried to the root as he curses and falls apart.
We stay tangled like that, breathing hard, her body trembling between us.
No one speaks for a long moment.
Then she whispers, soft but sure, “I’ve never felt more loved.”
And we believe her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Cam
She’s stillflushed and breathless when I help her stand. Tanner’s already moved to the sink, grabbing her towel, still half-dazed from what we just did. Her legs wobble when she steps down from the bed, and I catch her by the waist, steadying her.
“Shower,” I say, brushing a strand of damp hair from her cheek. “You need one. We all do.”
She groans. “You realize that boat showers are basically glorified closets?”
“Guess we better squeeze in tight,” I say, and she giggles, nudging my shoulder.
In the tiny stall, we fumble and laugh, bumping elbows, knocking shampoo bottles loose, water hitting us more sideways than down. She’s between us, head tipped back, water cascading down her body. My fingers slide over her waist as I lather her up. Tanner trails kisses along her spine while I press mine to her shoulder.
“You okay?” I ask against her skin.
She turns slightly, and her smile is soft. “Better than.”
We rinse off the best we can, half-soapy, half-clean, still laughing as we dry off. Tanner hands her one of my hoodies anda pair of shorts, which she slips into without bothering to towel-dry her hair.
As we’re packing up, I glance at the empty cooler. “We need food. Real food. That wasn’t even a full breakfast earlier.”
She zips the hoodie. “I can grab Jackson and Ivy. We can hit that spot on the boardwalk.”
I raise an eyebrow. “The one with the caramel waffles?”
