Each stroke stretched her pussy further, hitting places inside her that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through her body. She wanted to retort, to reclaim some semblance of control, but Duke’s lips met hers before she could speak, stealing her breath. She tried to cling to her usual confidence, but her voice wavered, betraying the desire simmering beneath. Her body ached for them, her pussy desperate to feel their cocks stretching her, filling her, claiming her in a way no one else ever had. Why not? She squared her shoulders, her usual bravado masking the vulnerability she felt. “You’re gonna have to take us, Ma,” he said, his voice low and teasing. Duke’s cock strained against his jeans, its size evident even before he shucked them, reminding her of the bulls they wrangled—raw, untamed power. Wyatt groaned, his body shuddering against hers as he spilled himself into her, his hands gripping her hips like she was the only thing keeping him grounded.
