Page 112 of Found by the Pack

Gabe moves. I feel the shift of the mattress, the heat of him beside us. His hand slips under the fallen sheet, between her thighs.

Sadie whimpers into my mouth as his fingers find her. Her body jolts, and I swallow her cry with another kiss.

“Fuck,” Gabe mutters. “You’re soaked.”

Her hips buck against his hand, chasing it, desperate. I pull back just enough to watch. Her eyes are glazed, her lips swollen from my kiss, her face twisted with pleasure as Gabe’s fingers work her open.

I can’t look away.

My hand trails down, hesitant at first, then bolder, cupping her breast. She moans at the contact, arching into me, and the sound wrecks me.

“Is this okay?” I rasp.

“Yes,” she breathes, frantic. “Yes.”

I roll her nipple between my fingers, tugging lightly, and her back arches. Gabe’s hand moves faster, his fingers thrusting into her, curling deep, his thumb circling her clit.

I slide lower, my palm pressing against her stomach, pushing down gently so she can’t squirm away, so we can both see every shudder, every quake of her body as Gabe fingers her.

Her cries fill the room, raw and uncontrolled. She writhes between us, her legs trembling, her hands clutching at the sheets.

“Look at me,” I whisper, capturing her gaze even as her eyelids flutter. “Stay with me.”

Her eyes lock on mine, desperate and wild, and I feel the exact moment she tips over the edge.

Her body bows, her hips grinding into Gabe’s hand, her mouth opening on a scream. Her orgasm tears through her, violent, shaking her apart, her thighs clamping down around his wrist.

I hold her steady, my hand pressed firm on her stomach, watching her unravel, feeling every quiver under my palm. Gabe’s jaw is tight, his movements relentless until she’s sobbing, begging, her body spent.

Finally, she collapses back against me, sweat-slick, hair plastered to her face, her chest rising and falling in jagged heaves.

I brush the damp strands back from her temple, kissing her cheek, her jaw, soft, reverent. My heart hammers so hard it hurts.

“We shouldn’t have,” I murmur, guilt already coiling tight in my chest. “But Christ, Sadie…”

Her eyes flutter open, glassy and exhausted, and she whispers the words that undo me completely. “Thank you.”

We carry her between us, her body trembling as if her bones can’t hold her upright. She clutches the sheet against her chest. Her face is flushed, her eyes glassy with a heat that doesn’t give her an inch of peace.

Her scent is everywhere—thick, dizzying, curling into every breath I take until it burns my throat.

Gabe nudges the bedroom door with his boot, shouldering it open. The bed is unmade, blankets tangled from when she was thrashing alone earlier, fighting her body, losing the battle. We guide her down onto the mattress, her hair spilling pink and damp across the pillow.

We ease her back into the pillows, her body boneless, her chest heaving, her hair plastered to her damp cheeks. Gabe’s jaw is taut and his shirt clings to him with sweat. I can barely breathe.

My cock is throbbing, my body screaming for release, but all I can see is her.

I stroke her hair back, kiss her temple. “It’s over,” I whisper, even though the words taste like a lie. “Rest now.”

But she shakes her head weakly, her lips trembling. Her hand clutches mine, dragging it back down to her chest, pressing it over her racing heart. Her eyes are glassy, desperate.

“More,” she breathes.

My gut twists. “Sadie?—”

“Please,” she whimpers, her body arching, hips restless under the sheet. “It’s not enough. I still need—” Her voice breaks, raw, strangled.

Gabe curses, sharp and low. He drags a hand through his hair, his chest rising and falling like he’s caged. His eyes flick to mine, dark, wild. I see the question there, the warning. But I also see the crack in his armor.