Page 75 of Curvy Cabin Fever

“Damien—” I say, but he shakes his head, a smile lifting the corners of his lips.

“I’ll give you three some space,” he interrupts, voice low but sure.

I start to protest, to ask him to stay, but he leans down and brushes a reassuring kiss against my hair.

“You’re allowed to be with them too,” he murmurs. “It doesn’t take anything away from whatwehave.”

I grip his hand, just for a second. He squeezes back and lets go.

And then he’s gone—into the hall, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

He’s not leaving me—he’s just letting me have this.

Rhett kisses me first.

It’s rougher than before, but there’s no anger in it now—it’s laced with pure need. His hands grip my waist like he’s trying to memorize the shape of me.

Morgan’s behind me in an instant, his chest warm against my back, lips brushing my ear. His hands slide beneath my shirt, skimming up my ribs until I arch into both of them.

“Are you sure about this?” Rhett murmurs against my mouth.

I nod, breathless. “Yes. I want both of you.”

Morgan groans low behind me. “You have no idea what that does to me.”

I’ve never had two men want me like this.

They move together, like magnets finally giving in. Rhett pulls my shirt off slowly, his fingers brushing my skin reverently. Morgan kisses down the back of my neck, unhooking my bra with skilled fingers. I shiver between them, heat pooling low in my belly as their hands and mouths explore different parts of my aching body.

Rhett drops to his knees, his mouth trailing fervent kisses down my stomach while Morgan presses open-mouthed kisses along my shoulder, down my spine.

When Rhett slips my leggings down, Morgan kneels with him, their shoulders brushing as they bare me together.

My breath catches.

They’re both looking at me like I’m something sacred. Like I’mtheirs.

Morgan leans in first, kissing the inside of my thigh. Then Rhett does the same on the other side, mirroring him. My legs tremble.

“Fuck,” I whisper, fingers sliding into Rhett’s hair, the other hand gripping Morgan’s shoulder. “I won’t last long like this.”

“Not yet, baby,” Morgan smirks. “We’ve barely started.”

And then his tongue flicks over my clit slowly, while Rhett presses kisses lower, rougher, biting softly against the tender skin just above where I need him.

I cry out, hips bucking. They work together—Rhett using his fingers, Morgan his tongue—alternating pressure and pace until I’m nothing but sensation.

I come hard, gasping, shaking, held between them.

But they don’t stop.

Morgan lifts me into his lap, settling on the rug with me straddling him. Rhett watches from beside us, panting like he’s barely holding on.

“Rhett,” I whisper, reaching for him.

He crawls closer, capturing my lips in another kiss—hungrier this time. Morgan kisses my neck as I grind against him, my body already desperate again.

“Tell us what you want,” Morgan rasps.