Lucy stood at the bathroom mirror, her toothbrush dangling between her lips as she stared at her reflection. Her eyes were a little darker lately, a little bolder. There was a new glow to her cheeks that no amount of makeup could fake. She knew exactly where it came from.

Twice now. Two stolen, filthy, unforgettable nights. And both of them under Eric’s nose—while his son laughed, grilled burgers, splashed in the pool, and touched her like she was some sweet, innocent girlfriend. Lucy could barely look him in the eye without feeling the heat rise between her thighs. She was soaked in secrets. And she didn’t feel guilty anymore.

She felt alive.

The memory of Ray’s voice from last weekend still looped in her head. That low, teasing growl as he looked her over and said, “Maybe next time I let Grant watch.”

Her thighs had clenched at the thought. She hadn’t stopped thinking about it since. That night, curled up next to Eric in bed, she let her hand drift under the sheets. He snored softly, completely unaware as she slid her fingers down her stomach, letting the images come—Ray behind her, Grant watching from the doorway, his hand around his glass, his eyes hungry. She came hard, biting into her pillow, her toes curling against the sheets.

Now it was Friday morning. Eric thought she was packing to visit her mother for the weekend.

What he didn’t know was that her bag was filled with lingerie and nothing else.

Three hours away, a hotel room waited for her. Ray had texted the room number the night before. No words. Just the number and a keycard emoji. It was their little language now. Command and surrender.

She spit out the toothpaste and wiped her mouth, then leaned forward toward the mirror, her voice a whisper: “You’re really doing this.”

And she was.

She was going to spread her legs for Ray in a hotel bed and pretend Eric didn’t exist.

She didn’t know what scared her more—that she wasn’t hesitating anymore… or that she didn’t want to.

She got ready for bed and again, as Eric slept, her fingers found her clit and rubbed until she came thinking of how much Ray was going to fill her holes this weekend.

The morning light spilled into the apartment, catching the golden sheen of sweat on Lucy’s bare shoulders as she moved above Eric, slow and deep. She ground her hips down against him, her hands braced against his chest, her lips parted in practiced moans. Eric’s fingers dug into her thighs, eyes fluttering, his breath turning ragged.

She could feel how close he was.

He always got there first.

With a strangled sound and a tight grip, he came hard beneath her, hips jerking up into hers, letting out a few breathless curses that made him feel like he’d rocked her world.

She collapsed onto his chest with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. He kissed her forehead, lazy and satisfied, and murmured, “God, I’m gonna miss you this weekend.”

She hummed softly, stroking his side. He wouldn’t know the difference. She hadn’t come. Not even close. But he thought she did—and really, wasn’t that the story of them?

Then came the sound. The apartment door opening.

Lucy didn’t flinch. She knew who it was. Ray.

She’d made sure Eric insisted on his dad coming by to “check her car.” Ray was conveniently free this morning.

Still half-tangled in the sheets, Lucy pulled away from Eric with deliberate grace. She adjusted herself, just enough to stay exposed. She didn’t bother to close the bedroom door all the way as she sank to her knees by the bed, tugging Eric’s boxers up while he laughed and ran a hand through her hair. His view was her sweet smile.

But Ray’s view—Ray would see her bare, used, on her knees for his son. Her lips still swollen from a man who didn’t know how to really fuck her. Her eyes fluttered shut for half a second, just imagining Ray’s face when he caught sight of her like that.

Eric stood, stretching, completely oblivious. He pulled on a hoodie and leaned down to kiss her forehead again, murmuring, “I’ll go say hey. Thanks for making this morning amazing.”

Lucy just smiled and nodded, licking her lips as he walked away.

When she heard Eric’s voice out in the living room—cheerful, clueless—she slipped into the bathroom. Her thighs were sticky, her core aching not from satisfaction but from denial. She turned the faucet on cold and leaned over the sink, staring at herself in the mirror.

That had been for Ray. Not the sex—but the show.

She wiped herself clean, brushed her hair back into a lazy ponytail, and stepped into her outfit for the day. Tiny denim shorts that hugged her ass like a promise. A black crop top, soft and braless, her nipples faintly visible beneath the fabric. The kind of shirt that begged to be pulled up by the hem with one hand. The kind of shirt that said she wasn’t wearing it for Eric.

She padded barefoot into the living room. Eric was talking to Ray by the door, keys in hand. Ray stood casually, one hand in his pocket, and the moment his eyes landed on her—on her legs, her bare stomach, her tits pressing against thin fabric—his nostrils flared just slightly. That subtle shift in his expression sent a thrill down her spine.

“Morning, Ray,” she said sweetly, stepping right into his space, wrapping her arms around him in a warm, lingering hug. She tilted her chin up just enough for her cheek to brush his neck. “Thanks for helping with the car. You’re the best.”

Ray didn’t hug her like a family friend. He hugged her like he knew what she tasted like. His hand pressed low on her back, fingers splayed just above her waistband. Just enough pressure to remind her who she really belonged to.

“Anything for you, Lucy,” he murmured.

She pulled back and smiled. Her panties were already wet.

And the weekend hadn’t even begun.

Eric was all smiles, his keys jangling as he turned toward the door. “I’ll go pull your car around so you don’t have to deal with the garage ramp. Back in a sec.”

Lucy gave him a bright, sweet smile. “Thank you, babe.”

He kissed her quickly—just a brush of lips—and was gone.

The door clicked shut behind him.

And in a heartbeat, Ray moved.

His hands were on her before she could breathe, shoving her back against the closed door, his mouth crushing against hers. It wasn’t gentle. It was hungry—like he’d been holding back the entire time Eric had been standing three feet away.

Lucy gasped into his kiss, her hands grabbing at his shirt as his palms flattened on her waist, fingers sliding up under the hem of her crop top.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” he growled into her mouth, his voice rough, hot, full of dark fire. “Running off for the weekend with your boyfriend’s father.”

She moaned, the sound swallowed by his tongue. Her body arched into him, needing more. She bit his lower lip, hard enough to make him growl and press tighter.

Ray yanked her shirt up, baring her to him, his hands spreading wide over her ribs before his mouth found her chest. His lips were hot, open, his tongue circling slow before he sucked hard. She whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders.

“You think I didn’t see it?” he hissed against her skin. “You think I didn’t know you left that door open on purpose?”

Lucy’s head fell back against the door, her eyes fluttering.

“Your body’s screaming at me,” he said, low and thick. “Telling me everything Eric didn’t do for you this morning.”

His mouth moved again—wet, insistent—and her knees almost buckled.

She didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to.

Her body said it all.

Ray’s mouth crushed hers again, harder this time, deeper. Their bodies pressed tight, and Lucy let her hips roll against him, denim sliding over thick fabric. Her breath hitched as she ground herself down on the firm line of his pants, feeling just how ready he was—just how wrong and good this was.

His hands tightened on her waist, then one hand slid down with purpose and smacked her backside through the denim, the sound sharp in the still apartment.

She gasped, breaking the kiss, lips swollen, eyes wild.

Ray grinned, eyes gleaming. “Behave yourself.”

She was still catching her breath when the door opened behind them.

Eric walked in, oblivious as ever. “Everything cool?”

Ray stepped back without a hitch, smoothing his shirt like he hadn’t just had his tongue down his son’s girlfriend’s throat. “Yeah,” he said casually. “I’ll go take a look at that car.”

Lucy exhaled and adjusted her shirt, heart racing. Her lips tingled, and her thighs still throbbed with want.

They moved outside, Ray ducking under the hood of her car for a few pointless seconds—just long enough to keep up appearances. Of course, the car was fine. It always had been.

Eric helped load her bag in the trunk and kissed her goodbye. “Tell your mom I said hey. Drive safe.”

“I will.” Lucy wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tight with just enough guilt to mask the truth.

Then she turned to Ray. “Thanks again,” she said sweetly, pulling him into another hug.

Ray’s hand slipped low—too low—and gave her ass a firm squeeze, out of Eric’s sight.

His voice was low in her ear. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

The promise in his tone made her shiver.

Lucy drove straight to Ray’s house, her stomach tight with anticipation. She parked in the drive and waited, legs bouncing, the air inside the car too hot even with the windows cracked. When he came out, duffel in hand, he tossed it in the back and slid into the passenger seat without a word.

They left his car in the garage.

Ray adjusted the seat as he pulled out onto the road. He reached for the radio and flipped through stations until he landed on something low and steady—bass-heavy, a little filthy.

Perfect.

They joked as the highway stretched out before them. Talked like they weren’t tangled in lies. Like they weren’t burning with what was waiting at the other end of the road. Lucy’s laugh rang out easy and light.

The sun was high, casting heat through the windshield as Ray took the wheel. His hand rested easy on the gearshift, the other gripping the steering wheel with practiced confidence. Lucy sat beside him, one bare leg tucked beneath her, biting back a smile as the hum of the engine filled the silence between songs.

She reached over again, this time slow and deliberate. Her fingers brushed over his thigh, then moved up, unzipping him without a word.

Ray’s jaw tightened. “Lucy,” he warned, voice already thick.

But she was already sinking down into his lap, her mouth claiming him—fast, messy, desperate. There was no teasing this time. No slow build. Just heat and hunger and the obscene sound of her devotion filling the car.

His head dropped back against the seat. “You dirty little thing,” he groaned, one hand flying up to the wheel as the other braced against the door. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Her only answer was the deep press of her mouth, the slick pull of her lips, the wet sound of worship.

His fingers flexed on the wheel, knuckles white. He muttered a curse and scanned the road, eyes darting for a place—any place—to stop before he lost control.

There. An old strip mall long abandoned, windows boarded up and asphalt cracked with weeds. He pulled in fast, gravel crunching under the tires. The second the car rolled to a stop, Ray shoved it into park and grabbed her ponytail, yanking her head back just enough to meet her eyes.

“You wanted this,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “Remember that.”

Then he guided her back down, firm and greedy, hips lifting to meet her mouth. He let go of the last bit of restraint, one hand tight in her hair, the other gripping the armrest like it might break under his fingers.

“You look so good like this,” he murmured darkly. “Sucking my cock, your lips stretched around me.”

Each slow, deep motion was possessive, claiming her over and over, right there in the empty parking lot where no one could see—but if they did?

Ray wouldn’t stop.

Ray let out a strained breath, his fingers gripping the wheel tighter as Lucy worked her mouth over him with relentless need. The car felt too hot, too small, every window already fogging, the sound of her devotion filling the space around them.

He slid his seat back with a rough shove, giving her more room, more access—because stopping her now would’ve been impossible.

His hand threaded into her ponytail, tugging her head up just enough to see her flushed cheeks, her eyes glazed with hunger. He slaps her cheek with his raging , hard cock.

“You really are something else,” he growled, voice dark and rough. “So eager. So damn needy.”

She whimpered in response, still clinging to him, still giving him everything without a word.

His eyes trailed down her back to the curve of her hips, and his free hand slid over her, gripping tight, grounding himself against the fire she kept feeding. He could feel her squirm, could sense the way her body trembled.

“You didn’t even wear anything under those shorts,” he muttered. “Came ready for me. Like a dirty little whore who knew exactly what she wanted.”

A rough groan escaped him, and suddenly he pulled her up by the ponytail, eyes blazing, breath ragged.

“That how you were this morning?” he demanded, voice low and sharp. “Grinding on him like that? That sweet pussy taking him deep like a good little girlfriend?”

She gasped, caught between shame and excitement.

“Get up here,” Ray ordered, guiding her into his lap, his hands already on her hips. “Ride my fucking cock like you did him. But this time—”

He leaned in close, voice almost a whisper.

“—this time, you’re mine.”

Lucy settled into his lap, her knees digging into the seat on either side of him, her breathing ragged, body already trembling with anticipation. Ray’s hands clamped down on her hips the second she lowered herself, guiding her down hard.

They both groaned.

The car rocked beneath them, tires groaning over uneven asphalt. Lucy moved with wild rhythm, her head thrown back, mouth parted in soundless cries. Her crop top rode up with every bounce until it gave up altogether—her chest spilling free, soft and flushed and heaving with every motion.

Ray caught her in one hand, squeezing rough, thumbing over sensitive skin as he thrust up to meet her. He plays with her taut nipples and leans forward and takes on in his mouth. He sucks her soft breasts as they fill his vision. His other hand never left her hips, bruising her with how hard he held her in place.

“Look at you being a slut for me,” he growled, sweat beading at his brow. “Just like this. Out in the open, taking me like you were made for it.”

She couldn’t answer. Couldn’t think. Her body was a mess of need, pleasure, noise. The sounds coming from her were raw—choked-off gasps, broken moans, each one louder than the last, filling the space like music only he could understand.

“You think he had you like this?” Ray rasped. “Think he even knew what to do with you?”

His fingers dug deeper, pulling her down harder.

“You feel that? That’s what you’ve been aching for. This is what happens when you stop pretending.”

Lucy’s nails raked down his chest, her legs shaking now. Her head fell forward, forehead pressed against his shoulder as she chased the high that was building too fast, too deep.

“Good girl,” he whispered, low and dark. Fucking take it. Just like that.”

She could barely breathe, barely stay upright—but she didn’t stop. Couldn’t.

Ray’s patience snapped.

With a growl, he locked his arms around her, hands grabbing fistfuls of her ass, pulling her cheeks apart, as he thrust up hard, taking over the rhythm. His finger entered her hole back there and inserted it. Lucy cried out, head jerking back, hands flying to his shoulders for balance. He drove into her again, and again, the car rocking with every brutal motion.

“You’re mine,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “You hear me? My. Perfect. Fucking. Whore.”

Her only answer was a strangled moan, her entire body shaking with the force of him. She tried to keep up—tried to move with him—but he was in full control now, slamming into her with raw, unrelenting need.

“Take it,” he hissed. “Take all my fucking cum. Don’t run from it now.”

Her top slid fully up, her chest bouncing with every movement. One of his hands came up to grab her there, possessive, greedy, thumb circling as he watched her fall apart for him.

“You feel that?” His voice dropped, thick with the edge of release. “I’m gonna fill you up so deep, you’ll be leaking me the whole ride to the hotel.”

Her eyes flew wide, her mouth falling open in a broken, breathless scream as her body gave out—waves crashing, limbs trembling, a sound so raw it echoed through the car.

That was all it took.

Ray moaned , “Oh fuck, yes. Take it, fucking take it so well. That’s it, that’s my good fucking girl.”

Ray’s hands clenched around her, and he let go with a deep groan, slamming home and holding her there, buried in her as the last thrusts shook them both. For a long, hot second, neither of them moved.

Just the sound of harsh breathing. Sweat. The faint ticking of the cooling engine.

Then Lucy collapsed against his chest, breathless, stunned, completely undone.

Ray’s hand slid up her back, still holding her close, still inside her.

“We’re not even at the hotel yet,” he murmured darkly, lips brushing her ear.

They sat tangled together for a while, the car still and quiet, the world outside forgotten. Lucy stayed draped across Ray’s chest, her skin warm and damp against his shirt, her breathing slowly returning to normal. He stroked her back lazily, his hands gentler now, tracing soft paths over her spine.

Neither of them said anything at first.

And then she let out a small laugh—breathless, giddy, stunned by her own audacity.

Ray chuckled low, that deep, dangerous sound of his that made her legs weak. “What’s so funny?”

She lifted her head just enough to look at him, eyes sparkling. “We’re completely insane.”

He smirked. “And yet you’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

She bit her lip, smiling, cheeks still flushed. “Maybe.”

“Definitely,” he said with certainty, brushing a lock of hair from her face.

They eventually pulled themselves together, fixing clothes, adjusting seats, pretending to be normal people again. Ray leaned over to steal a final kiss before he started the car.

The ride after that was quieter, but lighter somehow. The heat between them had softened into something playful—an afterglow that made them both feel a little invincible.

They joked about bad hotel coffee and the sad lobby decor she’d found online. Lucy sang along half-heartedly to the radio while Ray grumbled about her song choices, though she caught the way his fingers tapped the beat against his thigh.

By the time they reached the hotel, the sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, painting the edges of the city in soft amber light. Ray parked, and they moved through the lobby like they hadn’t just devoured each other in a parking lot.

The elevator doors closed with a soft chime, and as they ascended, Ray turned toward her. His eyes lingered on her cheeks—still flushed, still a little dazed.

“You’re glowing,” he murmured, then leaned in and kissed her, slow and hard.

When he pulled back, he let his eyes drop to her thighs, voice quiet and thick with amusement. “How’s it feel,” he said, low and knowing, “walking into this hotel with me still dripping down your legs?”

Lucy flushed deeper, a shocked laugh escaping her throat. “Ray!”

He grinned.

The elevator dinged. He stepped aside to let her out first, his hand resting on the small of her back as they walked down the hallway.

When she reached the door, he paused just behind her, watching the sway of her hips in those too-short shorts.

“Damn,” he said softly. “You look too good walking in front of me like that.”

She glanced over her shoulder, biting back a grin. “Get used to it.”

He unlocked the door and pushed it open for her. Lucy stepped in with a small, contented sigh and kicked off her shoes.

“I don’t know about you,” she said, tossing her bag onto the chair, “but I’m starving.”

Ray arched a brow. “Didn’t think I wore you out that much.”

“Oh, you did,” she said sweetly, grabbing the room service menu. “Which is exactly why I’m ordering enough food for two very satisfied people.”

He laughed, closing the door behind them.

The weekend was just getting started.

Room service arrived faster than expected.

Lucy had just stepped into the shower, the water still steaming and clinging to the bathroom walls when she heard a knock through the foggy glass. She called out something vague—probably a “Can you get that?”—and Ray was already on it.

He opened the door shirtless, his belt still undone, and the hotel attendant barely looked him in the eye as he wheeled in the tray and handed over the receipt. The scent of warm bread, grilled meat, and something buttery filled the room.

By the time Lucy emerged, wrapped in a towel and damp from head to toe, her hair piled on top of her head, Ray was already sitting at the table, pouring himself a drink and lifting the lids off their dishes.

But the second he looked up—his eyes caught on her.

Towel tucked loosely, drops of water trailing down her legs, skin still pink from the heat.

His jaw clenched. And not from hunger for food.

Lucy smirked, walking barefoot across the carpet. “You started without me?”

“I was about to,” he muttered, his voice thicker now. “And then you walked out looking like that.”

She gave a small twirl as she dropped into the chair across from him, legs crossed beneath the towel. “What, this old thing?”

Ray shook his head, lips twitching. “You keep tempting me and you’re not gonna get to eat.”

She laughed and reached for a roll, buttering it quickly. “You wouldn’t dare.”

They ate like they hadn’t seen food in hours—joking between bites, feeding each other little tastes, Lucy moaning way too dramatically over a bite of mashed potatoes just to make Ray glare at her with heat in his eyes.

The clatter of silverware was interrupted by the buzz of Lucy’s phone on the nightstand.

She blinked, surprised, and reached for it.

Eric.

“Hey!” she said, answering as she got up from the table, still holding her towel in place with one hand. “Yeah, I got here fine. Just finished dinner. You okay?”

Ray watched her pace slowly across the room, her back still damp, towel slipping a little more with every step. Her voice was light, casual, sweet—and it only made the dark grin grow on his face.

He stood.

Moved behind her like a shadow.

Lucy gave him a quick glance and kept talking, unaware—or maybe pretending to be—that the look in his eyes had turned dangerous again.

“Uh-huh,” she said, smiling. “Yeah, Mom’s already talking my ear off. You know how she gets—”

Ray stepped behind her and slid a hand over her hip.

She jolted, but didn’t stop talking.

He reached up and pressed a finger to her lips—silent, commanding—his other hand slowly lifting the hem of the towel.

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t flinch.

“—uh, yeah, tomorrow she wants to—wants to go to lunch…”

The towel slipped higher, and Ray knelt behind her.

She gripped the phone tighter.

And then his mouth was on her—hot and relentless.

Her voice broke for a second, a quiet gasp catching in her throat.

Eric didn’t seem to notice.

Ray held her hips steady, his grip iron, his tongue wicked and determined. Lucy’s knees nearly gave out. Her free hand slapped against the wall for balance as her words turned shaky, sentences shorter, harder to string together.

“Y-Yeah,” she managed, laughing through the strain. “Totally—just tired. The drive was… long.”

Ray didn’t let up.

He looked up at her with dark, amused eyes, lips wet, fingers digging deeper into her skin.

His tongue flicked over her clit as his two fingers curled inside her. He thrusted his fingers in and out of her tight pussy. Making sure to keep his eyes locked on to her face as she talked to his son. Her boyfriend.

Lucy bit down on her lip to muffle the sounds threatening to break free.

She was shaking. Melting.

“Okay,” she said into the phone, voice a breathy whisper. “Talk later?”

She ended the call before he could say goodbye.

And then finally—finally—let the moan rip out of her chest as her head fell back against the wall.

Ray didn’t stop.

He’d only just started.

Lucy barely had time to recover before Ray’s fingers slipped between her thighs—slick and insistent, moving with purpose.

She gasped, grabbing his shoulder, her body still trembling from his mouth. But he didn’t give her a break. Didn’t even pretend to.

“You sounded so sweet on the phone,” he murmured darkly against her skin. “So polite. Like you weren’t falling apart while I had my tongue inside you.”

His fingers moved faster, dragging desperate sounds from her throat.

“Bet he had no idea how close you were. Bet he thinks you’re still that good little girlfriend.” He leaned in, brushing his lips over her stomach. “But I know better.”

Lucy’s hands clutched his hair, her breath coming in uneven bursts. She let her head fall back and asked, voice shaking, “Where does your wife think you are right now?”

Ray didn’t even flinch.

“Don’t care,” he said simply, without pause or guilt. “She’s probably with someone else anyway.”

And with that, he pushed her closer to the edge—his fingers relentless, his voice a slow burn.

She cried out, louder this time, uninhibited, every nerve lit up.

Ray growled his approval and leaned in again, lapping up every sound, every reaction, every piece of her she offered.

She shattered around him, legs quaking, her towel falling completely to the floor as she clung to his shoulders.

“That’s it” , Ray said , “ good fucking girl, you taste so fucking good.”

But just as her moans peaked—just as her knees threatened to give out again—they both heard it.

The click of the door.

She froze.

Ray didn’t.

He turned his head lazily toward the entrance as the door swung open—and in walked Grant.

Eric’s uncle.

He strolled in like he belonged there, a bottle in one hand, two glasses in the other, sunglasses perched on his head, those unmistakable green eyes locking straight onto Lucy’s bare, breathless form.

Ray didn’t move, still crouched low beside her.

Lucy’s eyes widened, her voice caught in her throat, her heart thundering.

Ray gave her thigh a gentle squeeze, almost casual. “I left him a key,” he said, glancing up at her with a smirk. “Under the plant outside.”

Grant set the bottle down on the table, his smile slow and cutting.

“No wonder you’ve been so busy,” he said to Ray, his gaze never leaving Lucy. “She’s even prettier up close.”

Lucy’s breath hitched, but her legs didn’t move. Couldn’t.

Grant stepped closer, eyes raking down her flushed body, her damp skin still twitching from aftershocks.

“No wonder you can’t get enough of her,” he said softly. “Look at her. Falling apart like that. Absolutely stunning.”

Ray looked up at her, eyes dark, possessive.

“Don’t be shy now,” he murmured. “He’s not here to interrupt.”

Ray didn’t stop.

He dropped to his knees again, his hands spreading Lucy open as if they were still alone, his mouth finding her heat with the same hunger as before—if not more. But now, there were eyes on her.

Grant leaned casually against the wall across from them, his eyes burning into her with a look that made her knees tremble all over again. He watched her with the kind of attention that undressed her twice over—slow, deliberate, lingering.

Lucy gasped as Ray’s tongue moved with purpose, her hands gripping the wall behind her for support. Her breath hitched, and when she glanced at Grant again, he was smiling.

Wicked.

Knowing.

He took a slow step forward, and his voice dropped, smooth and dark.

“You look incredible like this,” he murmured. “Spread out, flushed, letting him taste you while I watch. No shame at all.”

She moaned, her head tipping back as Ray sucked harder, his grip bruising now, his pace cruel and perfect. Her body was no longer her own—it belonged to Ray’s mouth, to Grant’s eyes, to the heat in the room that felt too heavy to breathe.

Grant stepped closer, close enough for her to feel the warmth of him. His fingers brushed lightly over her jaw, then under her chin, tilting her face up to his.

“You’re making a mess,” he whispered.

Then he kissed her—deep, slow, unapologetic.

She melted into it, the taste of red wine and dark intentions flooding her mouth, all while Ray devoured her between her thighs.

Ray’s voice, low and rough, came up from below, thick with possessive amusement. “Such a good girlfriend,” he said. “Taking care of Eric’s whole family like this.”

Lucy moaned into Grant’s mouth, her body caught between two impossible desires, the pressure building all over again.

And none of them were stopping.

Not now.

Grant’s hands found her first.

Still kissing her, his palms slid up her bare sides, slow and certain, until they cupped the soft weight of her breasts. His thumbs brushed over her peaks, coaxing a helpless sound from her throat. She arched into his touch, caught in the center of it all—Ray’s mouth still claiming her from below, and now Grant’s touch, firm and possessive, rolling over her flushed skin like he already owned it.

“You really are something else,” Grant murmured against her lips. “Letting us do this to you. Letting him taste you while I touch you.”

His grip tightened just slightly, enough to make her whimper.

Ray growled against her, the vibration sending another jolt straight through her.

“She likes it,” he said darkly, glancing up from between her thighs. “She wants it. Look at her. Sweet, dirty girl.”

Lucy moaned, her knees barely holding her up, her body trembling under their hands and mouths and words. Her fingers fisted into Grant’s shirt, holding on to him as her body shuddered under Ray’s unrelenting tongue.

“She can’t even think straight anymore,” Ray muttered, his voice lower, darker. “Just coming nonstop for us”

Grant kissed down her neck now, slow and hot, his hands never leaving her chest. “You’re making it real hard not to ruin you,” he whispered. “You know that, right?”

Her breath caught. Her head tipped back. Her mouth fell open.

Ray’s fingers dug into her thighs, and just as he sealed his mouth around her again, his voice spilled out rough and deep:

“You’re going to look so good being used by us, sweetheart.”

That was it.

Lucy cried out, body breaking for the second time, her legs shaking as pleasure slammed into her like a wave. Ray didn’t let go. Didn’t ease up. He held her there, mouth still working her as she rode it out with Grant holding her steady, whispering filth against her cheek like he’d waited years to see her like this.

Lucy’s breathing was still shaky, her body flushed and glowing when Ray rose from between her thighs. He kissed up the length of her stomach, chest, then caught her lips with his—deep, slow, possessive.

When he finally pulled back, his voice was low, curling around her like smoke. “Be a good girl,” he murmured, eyes dark. “Strip Grant for me. He’s wearing too many clothes to play with you.”

Her pulse jumped.

She turned her head slowly, meeting Grant’s gaze.

He stood still, watching her, green eyes smoldering with heat and restraint. There was a challenge in his smile—one that dared her to obey, to cross one more line, and enjoy every second of it.

Lucy moved toward him, her body still bare, trembling with aftershocks, but her hands were steady as they reached for the hem of his shirt. She peeled it up and off, fingers brushing over the firm muscle beneath. Her lips parted slightly, not hiding the way she was drinking him in.

Ray had taken her apart.

But Grant… Grant hadn’t even touched her yet.

She dropped to her knees in front of him, just as she had for Ray hours ago in the car. Her hands slid down the front of his pants, undoing his belt, unzipping slow—on purpose.

She pulled his pants down, then his briefs, exposing him fully.

Her breath hitched.

Her eyes flicked up, locking with his as her lips curved into a grin that was all heat.

“Well,” she murmured, “now I see why Ray invited you.”

Grant chuckled low in his throat, jaw tightening.

“You’re big,” she said softly, voice laced with awe and wicked curiosity. “Makes my mouth water just looking at you.”

She leaned in, kissed the tip gently—just once, deliberate and teasing—then pulled back just enough to meet his gaze again.

“Can I taste you?” she asked, eyes wide, playful and shameless.

Behind her, Ray leaned back on the bed, watching.

Waiting.

Smirking. Ray’s voice came from behind her—low, steady, and full of command. “Do a good job, baby,” he said, his hand slowly stroking himself as he watched. “Make me proud.”

Lucy didn’t answer with words.

She simply opened her mouth and took Grant in, inch by inch, her lips wrapping around him as her tongue moved with slow precision. She heard the breath catch in his throat, saw his hands twitch at his sides—until one slid into her hair and held her gently but firmly.

“Damn,” Grant breathed, eyes dark with disbelief. “You’re really good at this.”

Lucy hummed in response, her hands gripping his thighs as she found a rhythm, her mouth moving over him with greedy control. She kept her eyes on him, watching every reaction, feeling a sense of power in the way his jaw clenched and his fingers tightened in her hair.

Ray let out a low groan from the bed, still watching her intently, his hand moving slowly along his length.

“Look at you,” he said darkly. “Down on your knees for my brother. Making him lose his mind while my son has no idea what kind of girl he’s really with.”

Grant chuckled under his breath, but it was a strained sound, roughened by pleasure.

“Yeah,” he said, voice thick. “Bet Eric thinks you’re curled up with your mom right now. Maybe watching a movie. Being sweet.”

Lucy moaned around him, her cheeks flushing deeper.

Ray’s voice dropped further, gravel and heat. “Instead, you’re on your knees with your mouth full. Taking him like you were made for this.”

Grant guided her a little deeper, hips barely moving, letting her control the pace—but clearly fighting not to take more. “You love it, don’t you?” he said, breathing hard. “You love being our little secret slut.”

She looked up at him through her lashes, lips stretched, breath catching through her nose.

And they both saw it in her eyes.

She did.

Lucy barely had time to catch her breath before Ray was behind her, rising from the bed with purpose. His hands wrapped around her waist, large and possessive, and he pulled her back toward him.

She gasped softly, Grant slipping from her mouth as Ray lowered himself onto the mattress and guided her into his lap. He settled her there—open, exposed, still flushed from before—and held her tight.

“You’ve done enough teasing,” he murmured in her ear. “Now you take me. Just like that.”

He lowered her onto him in one fluid motion, and her body arched, her head falling back with a sharp moan as he filled her.

Ray growled, gripping her hips hard, anchoring her to him. “You feel that?” he whispered against her neck. “That’s what it’s supposed to be like. Real.”

Lucy whimpered, but she didn’t stop.

She stayed facing Grant, her chest rising and falling with each breath, her eyes locking on his as Ray thrust up into her from behind, each motion rougher, more consuming than the last.

Grant let out a breath, watching her fall apart again, the way her mouth trembled, the way she moaned without hesitation.

“You’re perfect like this,” he said lowly, stepping closer. “Caught between us. Letting us use you.”

Ray’s grip tightened. “You’re ours now,” he muttered darkly. “You’ll take what Eric never could give you.”

Lucy’s body shook between them, lost to the rhythm of their hands and voices. The room spun with heat, with the sound of her moans and their breath, the hotel walls soaked in sin.

“You were meant for this,” Grant said, voice rough. “Not quiet weekends and soft kisses. This. Being claimed. Filled. Used.”

Ray’s hands slid up her body, holding her steady as he drove deeper, his voice like gravel against her skin. “And you love it. Don’t lie. You’ve never loved anything more.”

She didn’t.

She couldn’t.

Because everything inside her screamed the same thing:

More.

Grant stepped closer, eyes locked on Lucy as she rocked in Ray’s lap, her body pliant, sweat-kissed, and open. She looked up at him, lips parted, flushed and breathless from being taken so thoroughly.

Without needing to be told, she reached for him again.

He groaned low as she took him into her mouth, slower this time, but deeper—messier, her moans vibrating through him as Ray’s hips slammed up into her from behind.

The hotel room was filled with sound—wet, lewd, desperate. Flesh against flesh. Labored breathing. The obscene mix of moans and dark praise.

“Good girl,” Grant hissed, his hand sliding into her hair, holding her there, gently rocking against her mouth. “You look so perfect like this. Filthy little thing.”

Ray’s grip tightened on her waist, his voice thick behind her. “You were made for this,” he growled. “Taking one of us in your mouth while you’re full of the other.”

Lucy moaned around Grant, the sound raw, her body grinding back against Ray with need.

“Bet you’ll think about this when you’re back home,” Ray muttered darkly. “Lying next to Eric. Pretending you’re his sweet girl while you ache for this.”

Grant chuckled, voice sharp, rough with restraint. “She’s already ruined for him,” he said, running a thumb over her wet cheek. “He’ll never touch her again without her wishing it was one of us.”

Ray thrust deeper, harder.

“She’ll crave it,” he said. “Every night. Every time he touches her, she’ll wish it was me.”

Lucy’s body trembled. Her moans grew louder, desperate, hungry. Grant held her in place, groaning through clenched teeth as she devoured him. Ray’s hands bruised her hips, dragging her down again and again, relentless.

Ray’s grip turned bruising, his breath hot against Lucy’s neck as he drove into her with deep, relentless power. She was trembling now, every muscle wound tight, caught between the two of them—Grant in front of her, Ray buried deep behind her, both of them owning pieces of her she’d never be able to take back.

Ray’s voice was low, rough, dangerous. “You’re not holding back this time.”

His hand slipped between them, and she cried out.

“You’re gonna let go for me,” he growled. “Right here. With your mouth full of him. I want you to come screaming around me.”

Lucy moaned, her lips still wrapped around Grant, who groaned as her mouth tightened, her body tensing all at once.

Ray slammed into her harder, his pace cruel and perfect. “Now, Lucy,” he demanded. “Let it go.”

She shattered.

Her entire body convulsed, a scream ripping from her throat as her climax tore through her, muffled by Grant’s presence in her mouth. Her fingers clawed at his thighs, her back arching, every nerve raw and electric as Ray held her down, feeling every single wave of her release pulse around him.

Grant let out a deep, broken sound, pulling himself free just in time.

“Take it,” he muttered, his voice thick with pleasure as he spilled across her face, her lips, her chest—marking her, claiming her, as she trembled between them.

Ray’s groan came a heartbeat later, deeper, darker. He pressed in once more, hard, holding her there as he followed her over the edge, spilling into her with a sound that was almost a growl.

“Take it,” he rasped, breathless. “Take all of it.”

Lucy collapsed in their arms, marked by them both, body used, trembling, full—and glowing.

Neither of them let her go.

“You were made for this,” Ray whispered, still buried inside her.

“Every inch of you,” Grant added, brushing a thumb across her cheek, his voice like smoke. “Ours now.”