DIRTY DADDIES
“Look at her. She’s dripping for us.”
Ryder’s eyes dropped, and a guttural sound ripped from his throat. River’s fingers hooked into my panties, and with a sharp tug, they were gone.
The cool air hit my wetness, and I flinched.
“My god. She’s perfect,” River whispered, his voice full of a hateful kind of reverence. He pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the base of my spine. “And all ours.”
That’s when the competition began.
“Let me taste her first,” Ryder demanded, his voice rough.