Page 162 of Found by the Pack

I shift slightly, trying not to wake Shep, but the sound of her arching into Gabe, the small gasps and groans, it’s impossible to ignore. My fingers curl, my breath coming shallow.

God, she looks so good. And I want it all—the heat, the desire, the chaos.

Gabe lifts his head just enough to whisper her name, dark and guttural, and she answers him with a moan, hips pressing harder into his, fingers clutching at his shoulders, nails biting into skin.

I can see the way he’s buried inside her, the deliberate way he moves, claiming her with each thrust, each curve of his hand along her waist.

“Boone…” Gabe’s voice rumbles, eyes catching mine, a smirk tugging at his lips even mid-pleasure. “You watching?”

I growl low, unable to stop myself, but she looks at me then, her eyes half-lidded, lips curved with satisfaction and mischief.

“Morning, baby,” she murmurs, voice thick and breathless. “I like you here.”

I slide closer, brushing my hand along the side of her leg, feeling the warmth, the pulse of her skin. She gasps softly, pressing into the touch, and I see Gabe tilt his head, watching me, sharing that dark, private grin.

I move closer still, lips brushing against the small of her back, hand tracing her spine down to the curve of her ass, feeling her shiver beneath me. Her breath catches, and she murmurs my name, soft and intimate, a sound that sends fire straight through me.

Gabe groans, shifting inside her, and I can’t help the laugh that bursts out. She’s his right now, but I get to be part of this, part of the heat, the tangled bodies, the lust that’s thick in the air.

Her hands find mine, guiding, teasing, pulling me closer, pressing against me in ways that make my knees ache, my body rigid with need. I nudge Gabe gently, and he groans, eyes closing, letting me take the edges while he still drives her with slow, deep strokes.

She’s writhing between us, gasping, whimpering, calling our names, a tangle of lust and trust. I dip down, lips brushing the sensitive skin behind her ear, teeth grazing, tongue teasing, and she shivers, fingers clutching my shoulder.

“Boone…” she moans, soft, needy, and my hand slides under the sheet, finding the heat of her, slick and desperate. She arches, pushing back against me, pressing closer, and the moans that erupt from her throat are loud, raw, and delicious.

Gabe shifts then. “Mine,” he growls, but it’s not possessive—it’s shared, dark, hot, and he tilts his head to let me claim her too.

We move together, a rhythm unspoken but perfect, a dance of sweat and heat and need. I feel every shiver, every tremor, every gasp of pleasure as she rides us both, every curve of her body pressed against mine and Gabe’s.

Her moans fill the room, loud and urgent, and I catch myself growling, lost in the taste, the scent, the feel of her alive and gasping and ours.

She finally collapses into us, trembling, chest heaving, hair mussed, lips parted and shining with sweat and satisfaction. I press a kiss to her temple, brushing hair from her face, and Gabe leans into her shoulder, both of us holding her, claiming her in ways words could never explain.

“Time to wake up,” I murmur, voice low, still thick with heat. “Town hall won’t wait forever.”

She groans, shifting lazily against us, eyes half-lidded, voice still thick with sleep and lust. “Five more minutes,” she says, teasing, and I know exactly what she means.

“What did I miss?” Shepard wakes up, stretching his arms with a huge smile on his face. He’s been pulling long hours on the library beautification project. I know it keeps his mind off the stabbing incident.

“Nothing.” She smirks, leaning in to kiss him.

He looks down to where she’s still rocking against Gabe and smiles. “My turn.”

THE END