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“It does,” he said, his eyes fierce with adoration. “That’s it, Ma,” Wyatt groaned, his thrusts steady and deep, syncing with Duke’s as they moved inside her. “Ma,” Duke said softly, his voice breaking the silence. Josie’s heart hammered as she took in the sight of her eldest son—his broad shoulders, the ripple of his abdomen, the faint dusting of hair leading downward. Wyatt’s hand settled on her hip, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin there, each movement deliberate, reverent. This is mine, she thought, savoring the rare solitude. Wyatt’s cock pressed against her, long and hard, and she turned to him, her lips brushing his ear. Her pussy throbbed, betraying her even as her mind spun with uncertainty. Duke’s gaze met hers, dark and unreadable, while Wyatt’s eyes roamed her form with a hunger that made her clit throb. But it didn’t feel wrong. Josie’s heart hammered as she took in the sight of her eldest son—his broad shoulders, the ripple of his abdomen, the faint dusting of hair leading downward.