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“Mm-hm.” Cruz hums against me, one massive hand splayed across my belly to hold me down. “You taste fucking incredible, sweetheart.”

Dante kneels behind him. I can see him over Cruz’s broad shoulders, popping the cap on a bottle of lube, slicking his fingers. Cruz spreads his knees wider on the bed without ever taking his mouth off me.

“Look at that,” Dante murmurs. “Already opening up for me.” Dante’s first finger goes into Cruz and Cruz groans against my pussy, the vibration traveling straight through me.

“Easy.” Dante’s voice is silk. “Breathe. Relax for me. There you go. There’s my boy.”

“Fuck, baby.” Cruz’s voice is ragged. “Fuck, do that again.”

“Crook my finger? Like this?”

Cruz’s whole body shudders and his beautiful cock leaks onto the bed. He drops his forehead against my hip and pants, and his stubble scrapes my skin and I’m so close already it’s embarrassing.

“Cruz.” I tug at his hair. “Cruz, I need?—”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” He lifts his head. His mouth is shining. His pupils are blown wide. “Tell me.”

“You. I need you inside me. Now.”

Cruz groans. “Dante?—”

“Two fingers.” Dante is calm, methodical, working him open. “Almost three. Hold on, big man.”

“I’ll fucking come if you keep doing that.”

“Don’t.” Dante’s voice goes a degree colder. “Not yet. You come inside her, or not at all. Understood?”

“Understood.”

I watch Cruz’s face change as Dante works a third finger in.

“You like that.” It’s not a question. I touch his cheek, his stubble rough under my palm. “You like him doing that to you.”

“Sweetheart, you have no fucking idea.”

“Show me.” I’m shocked at my own voice. “I want to see your face when he’s inside you.”

“Jesus Christ.” Cruz turns his face into my palm and kisses it. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

Dante slides his fingers free and reaches for the lube again, slicking himself, then Cruz.

“Up.” He pats Cruz’s hip. “On your knees between hers. I’ll come in behind you.”

Cruz rises onto his knees, hauling me by the backs of my thighs until I’m tilted up off the mattress. He’s so much bigger than me at this angle that it should be intimidating, but his eyes are nothing but soft.

“Sweetheart.” He notches the head of himself against me. “Green?”

“Green.”

“Tell me if anything’s wrong. Anything.”

“Cruz.” I drag my heel up his thigh. “Fuck me.”

He pushes in slow and I lose my breath.

He’s thick. Thicker than I expected, thicker than Dante, and he goes inch by inch with his jaw clenched and his hand splayed over my belly.

“Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe for me. Almost there.”