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Evan steps into the steam like a man with a mission.

The sweatpants hit the floor, and then he’s naked, thick and hard and already leaking, like watching wasn’t just a casual moment, it was foreplay. He slides the shower door closed behind him with a click, the sound sharp in the wet haze.

Dean’s still holding me upright, his palm heavy between my thighs, fingers lazy now, but still inside me, just enough to keep me soft and open and aching.

“She’s still twitching,” Dean says without turning, his voice low and smug. “We should do something about that.”

“I plan to,” Evan murmurs as he steps closer, his hands already finding my waist from behind, dragging wet skin against wet skin until I’m sandwiched between them.

Dean kisses me, slow and deep, while Evan’s hands trail down my hips, over my ass, spreading me wider. His fingers slip between my cheeks and find the slick mess Dean left behind.

“Fuck, she’s perfect like this,” Evan growls. “All wet and wrecked and still begging for more.”

“I knew you’d want to see her like this,” Dean grins, pulling back just enough to let me breathe. “You’ve been watching her like a starving man.”

Evan leans in, teeth grazing my neck, one hand wrapping around to toy with my nipple while the other slides lower, finding my clit with maddening precision. “Watching? Yeah. But now I’m starving for real.”

I moan, caught in the rhythm of their hands, their bodies, the thick heat of both of them pressed against me, Dean in front, Evan behind. My knees threaten to give out, and Dean catches me before I drop, lifting me with an ease that shouldn’t be so goddamn hot.

“Arms around me,” he says, guiding me to wrap my legs around his waist.

Evan steps in, chest to my back, mouth on my neck as he strokes himself with slow, slick pulls.

“She’s already soaked,” Dean groans, grinding his cock against me, sliding through the wet heat without pushing in yet. “But I want you to feel her too.”

He lifts me just a little, enough that Evan’s hand can slide between us. And then, fuck, Evan’s fingers are inside me next, thick and curling, pressing against Dean’s from the other side.

I cry out, caught between them, stuffed full and still greedy for more.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Evan murmurs. “You’re so tight I can feel his fingers through you.”

Dean hisses and presses his forehead to mine, voice wrecked. “I’m gonna lose it if you keep saying shit like that.”

“I want you both,” I gasp. “Now. Please.”

“Fuck yes,” Dean breathes. “Ride me. Evan, help her.”

Evan doesn’t wait, he grips my hips and guides me down onto Dean’s cock, slow and steady until I’m filled to the hilt, my head thrown back, my moan echoing off the tile. Dean groans, hands tight on my ass as he rocks up into me.

Evan trails kisses down my spine, then lower, sinking to his knees behind me in the spray.

“What are you, oh fuck…” I start.

His tongue finds my ass, wet and filthy and perfect, while Dean thrusts up into me from below.

I can barely breathe. I’m caught in a rhythm that feels obscene, the water pounding around us, my body stretched and trembling as Evan works me open from behind with his tongue and fingers, slow and slick and absolutely depraved.

“She’s gonna come again,” Evan growls, licking up my spine before standing and lining himself up behind me. “You want to feel her while I take her ass, Dean?”

Dean’s eyes are wild now, blown black with lust. “Fuck yes. Give it to her.”

Evan pushes in, careful, slow, groaning like a man being reborn as I stretch around him. I gasp, the burn giving way to fullness, to heat, to everything.

They don’t rush. They hold me there, filled front and back, until I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

And then they move.

Dean thrusts up while Evan grinds in slow, shallow rolls, and I break. My voice hits the ceiling, hands scrabbling at slick skin and wet tile as they fuck me in perfect sync, every angle hitting something electric inside me.