Finn didn’t stop.
Logan sat in the chair like the living room had turned into his office and we were the meeting. Every thrust shoved me forward on the couch. Every moan went to Daddy on purpose. I could feel Finn trying to last, trying to look like he wasn’t shaking, trying not to look at the man who had just taken the room from him.
Logan stood.
He didn’t rush. He crossed the carpet, dropped to a crouch beside my face, and put two fingers under my chin so I had to look at him while his son f****d me.
“You wanted more,” he said. “Say it to me.”
“More.” It broke. “Daddy, more.”
His other hand slid under me.
Thumb on my c**t.
Exact. Mean. He rubbed me in tight circles while Finn slammed deep, and the two rhythms didn’t match, which made it worse. Pleasure stacked too fast. My arms s
