Page 96 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)

“This is where it belongs, my little bird.”

“But I’m not on anything,” I admit sheepishly.

“Good,” they both say in unison. My brows furrow at their implications.

“Now, I want to see you ride him,” Elijah says, his eyes dark with desire. “I want to watch as he brings you to the edge, as he claims you as his own.”

The thought of riding Ezra, of feeling him inside me, sends a fresh wave of heat through my body. Ezra lies on his back and Eli pulls me up and places me on knees beside them.

“Ride him, Wren. Take what you need, little bird. Take his cock and ride it until you can't take it anymore.” I throw my leg over his hips, straddling him. I can feel the heat of his erection pressed against my entrance, and I’m overcome with a sense of anticipation and power.

I slowly lower myself onto him, feeling every inch of his thick length as it slides into me.

I gasp as he fills me, stretching me, the sensation both pleasurable and intense. Ezra groans, his hands gripping my hips, guiding my movements.

I begin to move, rolling my hips, finding a rhythm that has us both panting. The feeling of being on top, of setting the pace, is exhilarating. I watch as Ezra’s eyes darken with desire, his gaze fixed on me, his lips parted in pleasure.

“Fuck, Wren,” he groans, his voice rough with need. “You feel incredible.”

I lean forward, pressing my hands against his chest, using the leverage to deepen my movements. I can feel him hitting spots inside me that I didn't know existed, and the sensation is almost too much to bear. Ezra leans up, capturing my nipple between his teeth.

Elijah moves behind me, his hands on my hips, supporting me, guiding my movements. His touch is possessive, but reassuring, and it only adds to the intensity of the moment.

“This little hole will be ours soon,” he promises as he gently slides his fingers between my cheeks. Heat blooms on my face as I think about what he’s saying.

I grind down on Ezra, taking him as deep as I can, the slick heat of our bodies coming together in perfect harmony. I can feel my climax nearing, the tension building within me, and I know that I can't hold back much longer.

“Please, Wren,” Elijah whispers, his breath hot against my ear.

“Come for him. Show him how good he makes you feel.” And I do.

With a cry of pleasure, I surrender to the sensations, my body trembling, my breaths coming in short, gasping pants.

I can feel Ezra’s orgasm building as well, his hips jerking up to meet mine, his fingers digging into my skin, holding me in place as he finds his release.

As I come down from my high, I collapse against Ezra’s chest, his heart beating rapidly against mine.

Elijah wraps his arms around me, holding me close, the three of us tangled in a mess of limbs.

I’ve never felt more whole, more complete, than I do at this moment, sandwiched between the two men who have claimed my heart and body.

“Now, Wren,” Ezra says, his voice low and commanding, “it’s time for your punishment.”

My heart races as I look up at him, a mix of curiosity and apprehension swirling within me. “Punishment?” I echo, trying to gauge his expression.

“Yes,” he replies, a determined glint in his eyes. “For thinking badly of yourself. You need to understand that these negative thoughts don’t define you, and sometimes, a stronger reminder is necessary.”

Elijah sits up next to us, nodding. “We can’t have you thinking badly about something we care so much for.”

Before I can protest, Ezra places a hand on my back, guiding me to lean over his knee with a firm push. The sudden shift leaves me breathless, a rush of vulnerability and excitement coursing through me.

“Are you ready?” Elijah asks, his tone leaving no room for dissent.

I nod, my heart pounding in anticipation. There’s an electric tension in the air, and I can feel Ezra’s gaze on me, steady and encouraging.

With that, he raises his hand and brings it down sharply against my backside. The sting is immediate and intense, a shock that reverberates through me. I gasp, the suddenness of it igniting a mix of emotions within me.

“That’s just the beginning,” Elijah says, his voice firm. “You need to remember that you’re more than your insecurities.”

He delivers a few more hard spanks, each one punctuated by his steady tone. The sharpness stings, but beneath it, I can feel the weight of my self-doubt starting to lift.

“Do you understand now?” Ezra asks, his hand resting on my back, grounding me. “You’re not going to let those thoughts control you.”

“Yes,” I manage to reply, my voice trembling but resolute.

“Good,” he says, delivering a few more, each one harder than the last. “You need to learn that this is not who you are. You’re strong, and you need to believe that.”

Ezra leans closer, his voice low and serious. “You’re deserving of love and acceptance, Wren. Let this be a reminder.”

After several more firm spanks, Ezra finally stops, allowing me to breathe and process the experience. The initial sting begins to fade, replaced by a warmth that spreads through me, a sense of liberation washing over me.

“Now, do you see how much stronger you are than those negative thoughts?” Elijah asks, his tone softening.

I nod, feeling lighter and more empowered than I have in a long time. “I think I do,” I admit, a newfound confidence blooming within me.

“ Sei la nostra brava ragazza ,” Ezra murmurs in my ear. “You’re our good girl.”

They wrap me in their arms, their bodies pressed against mine, the warmth of their embrace a comfort like no other.

“You know,” I whisper. “I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere until I met the two of you.”

Elijah presses a kiss to my temple, his lips soft against my skin. “You belong here, Wren,” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. “You belong with us.”

Ezra’s fingers trace a lazy pattern across my back, his touch soothing and intimate. “We’ll protect you,” he promises, his voice a gentle rumble as he gently rubs my reddened ass.

Then he jumps from the bed and heads to the bathroom, returning with a damp cloth. Settling beside me, Ezra begins wiping away our sticky mess with a tenderness that makes my heart ache.

“I should probably get going,” I murmur, my voice barely audible. “I have to work in the morning.”

Elijah’s arms tighten around me, his grip firm yet gentle. “No. You’re staying, little bird,” he whispers, his breath warm against my cheek. “Let us take care of you.”

I hesitate for a moment, torn between the desire to stay and the need to keep some semblance of control over my life. But as I gaze into his eyes, my resolve crumbles.

“Okay,” I whisper, snuggling closer to him. “I’ll stay.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my forehead. And I am. In their arms, I feel safe, cherished, and loved. It’s a feeling I never want to lose.

I know that there are challenges ahead, that our relationship is far from conventional, but at this moment, I don't care. All that matters is the connection that binds us together, and the knowledge that no matter what comes, we will face it as one.