They picked up their pace, but were still easy with it. Micah came first, muttering something about it being too good. I felt him spurt hotly into me. He remained motionless, deep inside me until he caught his breath, then slowly pulled out.
By then, I couldn’t lift my head off of Colt’s chest. Our bodies were slicked together with sweat and I could hear the pounding of his heart.
Once Micah moved away, Colt flipped me onto my back and took me. Slow and leisurely, but forcefully.
“Ours, sugar.”
“Yes.”
He stiffened above me, plunged deep. Cried out my name as he came.
I didn’t come again, I couldn’t. I didn’t need to. I was done. So perfectly done.
“Now that’s how it’s supposed to be. Anything else and it’s just wrong,” Micah said, returning from the bathroom with a damp washcloth.
When Colt pulled out, he took the cloth and wiped gently between my thighs.
“Perfect,” he murmured. “Shit, I’m hard again.”
I laughed, but my eyes remained closed. “Get me a bag of frozen peas and let me take a nap. Then we can do it again.”
“Are you sore, sugar?” Colt asked.
“You put a huge cock up your ass and see if you’re sore,” I muttered.
I felt lips brush over my jaw. Felt the smile. “Nope, just your ass. Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you. Every perfect part.”
I felt the bed dip, Micah settling on one side of me, Colt on the other.
“You guys aren’t so bad yourself. I got my two cowboys.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Colt drawled.
“No lasso needed,” Micah added.
I couldn’t help but laugh, thinking of how Colt had roped me. Yeah, he’d caught me then, but I had to think he caught me the first time I laid eyes on them. Both of them. Bridgewater-style.