Page 85 of Found by the Pack

She sighs softly in her sleep, and I let myself drift with her, holding her as tight as I dare.

Imust’ve drifted off deeper than I realized because when I stir, it’s not from the usual creak of the house or Gus barking down the road—it’s from the lightest touch.

Her hand.

Sadie’s palm is pressed to my chest, right over my heart. I crack my eyes open, groggy, and the dim light spilling in from the window paints her silhouette against the darkness.

She’s awake. Her eyes are open, studying me like she’s not sure if she’s allowed to be here, to be touching me like this.

“Sadie?” My voice is rough, sleep-thick.

She hesitates for half a beat before whispering, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” I murmur, catching her wrist and kissing the inside of it. Her skin is warm, trembling under my lips. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Her throat works as she swallows. Then, in a voice so soft I almost think I imagined it, she asks, “Can we… go again?”

The words jolt me awake faster than a cold bucket of water. My eyes snap open fully, and I study her in the dim light.

She’s nervous, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, but her pupils are wide, her scent shifting with unmistakable need.

I should say no. She needs rest, recovery. She needs space. But the way she’s looking at me—it’s not just about sex.

It’s about trust. About wanting to feel alive.

“Yes,” I say, my voice low and certain. I cup her cheek, stroking my thumb along her skin. “We can. However you want.”

Her lips curve into the faintest smile before she leans down to kiss me. This kiss is different from before—not tentative, notcareful. It’s hungrier, bolder, like she’s chasing something she’s finally brave enough to claim.

I roll onto my back, letting her straddle me. She shifts nervously, fingers fumbling with the hem of her camisole, and I help her ease it over her head.

My hands roam her sides, pausing to cup her breasts, thumbing her nipples until they harden under my touch. She gasps, grinding down against me, and fuck—I nearly lose it then and there.

“Take what you need, baby,” I whisper, voice strained. “I’m yours.”

Her cheeks flush, but she lifts herself enough to guide me to her entrance. She’s wet already, slick with arousal, and when she sinks down on me, her head falls back with a moan so sweet it makes my gut clench.

“Boone,” she whispers, breathless, bracing her hands on my chest. “Oh, God?—”

Her walls grip me tight, and I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to thrust up hard. She sets the pace, rocking her hips slowly at first, testing the rhythm. Watching her move like this—on top of me, her hair falling around her face, her lips parted in little gasps—it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“You’re blooming,” I murmur, unable to stop the words. My hands slide up her torso, cupping her breasts again, pinching her nipples lightly until she cries out. “Fucking hell, Sadie. You look fantastic riding me.”

She shivers at the praise, her hips moving faster now, her moans slipping louder. She’s always so guarded, so careful with her emotions, but right here, right now, she’s letting herself go. Letting me see her like this.

I rub her clit with my thumb, and she jerks, gasping. “Too much?” I ask quickly.

She shakes her head, hair flying. “No—don’t stop.”

Her hips stutter as the pleasure builds, her hands clawing lightly at my chest. I guide her pace, steadying her, letting her grind just right. Every time she circles her hips, my cock drags against her sweetest spot, and she moans louder, her voice cracking.

“That’s it,” I groan, my eyes glued to her flushed face. “Chase it, baby. Take it.”

She cries out, trembling, her whole body tightening as her orgasm slams into her. Her walls clamp down around me, milking me, and the sound she makes—part moan, part sob—burns into my memory.

I hold her hips, slowing her down as she rides out every wave. When she collapses forward against my chest, panting, I kiss the top of her head, stroking her hair.

“Are you satisfied?” I whisper against her temple.