Chapter 21 Take Me Apart
I was still shaking when Patrick moved behind me again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His voice came low, rough.
“Turn around.”
I did. Slow. Mind fogged with heat and pleasure. My knees barely held me steady as I shifted to sit back against the pillows.
Drew was already shirtless now, lean and quiet, his eyes locked on me like I was something holy.
Patrick stood at the edge of the bed, broad and dark-eyed, dragging his shirt over his head. The way he looked at me—focused, unreadable—made my breath catch in my throat.
“Lie back,” he said. “Let us take care of the rest.”
I did.
And then their hands were on me.
Drew climbed up beside me first, his hand sliding down my ribs, lips grazing my shoulder. “You good?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
His hand found mine, fingers lacing through gently. Grounding me.
Then Patrick was between my knees again, hands firm as he spread them open. “Keep them apart, love. Don’t hide from me.”
I didn’t.
He stroked two fingers through my slick folds, humming low. “Still so wet. You like it like this?”
“With both of you?” I said, already breathless. “Yes.”
Patrick leaned down and kissed the inside of my thigh, then pressed the blunt head of his cock against my entrance.
“Drew goes first.”
I blinked up at him, startled.
Patrick gave a faint smirk. “I want to feel you stretch around him before I fuck you.”
My breath caught.
Drew kissed me then, slow and sure, and pulled back just enough to look into my eyes as he slid between my legs, positioning himself over me. He didn’t ask again. Just pressed in, slow and deep, one thick inch at a time.
“Oh my God—”
He filled me completely, hands braced on either side of my head. The stretch burned, sweet and raw and perfect. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Only feel.
Patrick watched, one hand curling around my ankle to keep my leg open, the other lazily stroking himself as Drew started to move.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Let him fuck you first.”
Drew’s thrusts were smooth, controlled. He kissed me between every stroke, soft little gasps into my mouth as his pace built. His hips slapped quietly against mine, every motion sending another jolt of pleasure through me.
I clung to his shoulders, head spinning.
Then Patrick leaned down and kissed my knee. “Ready for more?”
“Yes,” I gasped.
He slid behind Drew, kneeling over me, and reached under to press his thumb to my clit. I jerked, crying out as pleasure pulsed through me.
“Don’t come yet,” Patrick said. “Not until I say.”
Drew growled low, thrusts stuttering. “She’s close.”
“I know.” Patrick kissed my throat. “But she’ll hold it.”
I was burning. Shaking. The pressure was unbearable.
Patrick leaned closer to my ear, voice like smoke. “You’re gonna take us both. Think you can handle that?”
I moaned. “Yes, fuck, yes.”
Drew slowed his hips and slid out gently. I whimpered at the loss.
Then Patrick shifted forward, replacing him with one smooth, brutal thrust. He sank into me hard, so deep I cried out, back arching off the bed.
“Fuck, you feel that?” he hissed.
I did. Every inch. Every goddamn inch.
Patrick didn’t hold back. He set a rhythm that was sharp, claiming, dominant. Each stroke hit deeper than the last, and when he reached down to grip my throat lightly—just pressure, no force, I came apart.
The orgasm slammed into me, ripping through my spine, my hips, my mouth. I screamed his name, thighs shaking, vision going white.
Patrick kept fucking me through it.
Drew kissed my jaw, then slid behind me, pulling my upper body gently into his lap. I ended up folded between them—Patrick still pounding into me from below, Drew holding me up, hand at my chest, lips at my ear.
“You’re not done yet,” Drew whispered. “One more.”
“I can’t—”
Patrick groaned. “You can.”
He pulled out, only for Drew to ease back in, slower this time. My whole body trembled.
And then Patrick positioned himself behind me.
The moment I realized what they were doing, I choked on my breath.
“Wait, are you—”
“Not there,” Patrick said. “Not tonight.”
But he pressed close behind me, one hand on my waist, the other guiding Drew’s rhythm. Controlling it.
Directing him.
“You take her deep,” Patrick murmured. “I’ll take her mouth.”
My eyes went wide as he reached forward, thumb brushing my lips.
“Open,” he said.
I did.
And he slid two fingers in, groaning when I sucked on them, moaning around the taste of my own body.
Drew’s rhythm faltered, and I realized he was close now, too.
Patrick whispered something filthy, but I couldn’t understand. Drew gasped against my neck, then thrust in once, twice—and came with a broken groan.
I came again with him.
It didn’t matter that I had nothing left.
They took it anyway.
And I gave it freely.