Page 111 of Found by the Pack
Another wave of arousal rolls through me, fierce and undeniable. I shiver, whimper, my knees knocking as the sheet threatens to fall completely.
Their eyes are on me—Shepard’s wide behind his lenses, his jaw tight, Gabe’s darker, stormier, locked on every trembling inch of me.
I’m unraveling in front of them. And I can’t stop it.
CHAPTER 27
Shepard
The last time I saw someone like this was Camila.
She had been trembling, feverish, eyes wild with the same glazed need Sadie has now. I had spent hours with her, desperate to soothe her, holding her together with my hands, my mouth, my cock until her body finally broke and calmed. That memory slams into me now, gutting me.
And this is worse. So much worse.
Because this is Sadie. Pink-streaked hair, storm-tossed eyes, wrapped in nothing but a slipping sheet. The woman who has already threaded herself into the quietest corners of my life.
My trousers are uncomfortably tight, and I hate myself for noticing. For letting my gaze stray from her face down to the stiff peaks of her nipples pressing against the thin cotton.
God, I want to touch her. I want to close my mouth over them and lick until she’s sobbing.
I force my eyes back up, to the tears sliding down her cheeks. “What can we do?” My voice cracks. I’m not even sure who I’m asking—myself, her, Gabe.
I glance at him, desperate for direction, but Gabe’s expression is a storm barely contained. He’s every inch theAlpha, jaw locked, fists clenching, his chest rising and falling with the strain of holding himself back.
Sadie shifts under the sheet. Her hand drags low, almost absent, almost unconscious, slipping beneath the fabric. She caresses herself with a whimper, and I don’t think she even knows she’s doing it.
My throat works painfully. “I’m a Beta, and I can barely control myself. This must be torture for you, Gabe.”
His eyes flash, dark and molten. He leans forward, his voice shredded. “Do you think there’s nothing I want more than to fucking knot you until you can’t walk?”
Sadie gasps, eyes blown wide, her lips parting.
Gabe’s jaw tightens, his control barely a thread. “But Boone is your partner. He claimed you first. And so this? This would be wrong.”
“I know,” she whispers, voice raw. Her eyes shimmer with tears, her body trembling under the weight of it.
Her hand moves again, bolder this time, and Gabe curses under his breath. He lunges forward, catching her wrist. Her fingers are glistening when he pulls them up, her slick shining in the dim light.
“Stop that,” he growls. Then his mouth lowers before either of us can stop him.
He licks her fingers clean, slow and rough, and her moan rips through the room, a sound that makes every nerve in my body snap.
Her gaze drags from Gabe’s mouth to me. “Help me,” she breathes.
Something inside me breaks. I move before I can stop myself, crossing the space between us in two steps. My hands cradle her face, my lips crashing down on hers.
It’s wrong. It’s reckless. And it’s the sweetest, filthiest kiss I’ve ever had in my life.
Her mouth is hot, desperate, open. She tastes like salt from her tears, like heat and need, and I’m drowning. She clings to me, pulling me closer, and the sheet slips down her shoulders, baring her breasts.
I groan into her mouth, pulling her tighter, kissing her like she’s oxygen and I’ve been choking for years. My hands slide to her neck, to the soft curve of her jaw, holding her there as if I can anchor her to me.
The sheet falls lower, pooling at her waist. My eyes devour her. Pale skin flushed pink, nipples peaked, her chest heaving with every ragged breath.
“God,” I whisper against her mouth, my forehead pressed to hers. “We shouldn’t.”
“I don’t care,” she gasps, pulling me back in, lips frantic.
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