Page 203 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys

Her head fell back as she rode me, exposing the elegant column of her throat. Her hair tumbled down her back in wild waves, catching the light again and transforming to burnished metal. Her skin glowed with a fine sheen of sweat, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

Around us, my pack brothers watched with rapt attention. I caught glimpses of their expressions.

Wade's open admiration.

Levi's intense focus.

Cooper's easy smile.

Boone's quiet satisfaction.

As Nelly rode my body, an undeniable truth struck.

I would follow this womananywhere. To the ends of the earth if she asked it of me. I would gladly move behind her, bathed in her shadow for the rest of my days.

50

NELLY

My legs were thrown over Wade’s, and my head rested against Wyatt’s stomach. Boone, Levi, and Cooper were curled around and under us. We were a tangle of nude bodies. So incredibly vulnerable, hiding nothing. My Alphas breathed slowly, peacefully. Each of them lost to slumber land. My body, deliciously aching, wouldn’t let me fall asleep.

I didn’t know how long we’d been resting this way. Long enough for our collective breathing, heavy at first, to settle into normal rhythm. Long enough for them to doze off, one by one, leaving me awake with my thoughts.

Our six hearts seemed to beat together.

Our legs and arms seemed to fit together.

Was this the way it always was when you found your scent matches?Did it always feel so right? Did it always erase every worry, every doubt?

It didn’t matter what others experienced though. What mattered was here, now, and the feelings coursing through my body as I basked in the afterglow of marking and mating.

I shifted slightly, wincing at the delicious soreness between my thighs. Every muscle in my body felt used, stretched to its limit, then pushed beyond. My skin was sticky with dried sweatand other fluids. The surrounding air smelled of sex and alpha musk. My inner omega purred with satisfaction at the scent.

I'd never been with multiple partners before. Never imagined I could handle the attention of five virile alphas. Yet somehow my body had not only accommodated them but craved more.

I'd been claimed. Thoroughly. Completely.

Amazingly, if they woke up right now wanting more, I’d not say no.

Maybe that was the heat.

Though momentarily satisfied, my need would inevitably flare again, making me reach for them, touch them, kiss them.

But right now, what I wanted most was to snap my fingers and transport me and my Alphas to a giant, warm bed piled thick with comforters and pillows. I wanted to burrow in softness. I also wanted food. Cooper’s food, to be exact.

Turning my head carefully, I took inventory of the men sprawled around me. Wade's arm was flung possessively across my middle, his face pressed against my shoulder. His features in sleep were boyish, soft around the edges, stripped of maturity.

On my other side, Wyatt's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm against my arm. His face was turned away, but I could see the strong line of his profile, so similar to Wade's yet entirely his own. It still amazing me that this man, always in charge, always flowing with confidence, and surrendered so completely.

Cooper lay perpendicular to us, his head using Wade's thigh as a pillow, one hand splayed across Levi's bare chest. His braid had come undone, golden-brown hair fanning out beneath him like spilled honey. His lips were parted slightly, his breathing deep and even. He smiled in his sleep as I watched, and I wondered what he was dreaming about.

Levi had somehow ended up half-draped across Cooper, one leg hooked over Cooper's hip, his arms wrapped around himself as though cold despite the warmth our bodies generated. Even insleep, he maintained that precise, contained quality that defined him, each limb placed just so. Yet there was also vulnerability in the way he nestled close to Cooper, seeking warmth and connection.

And Boone—beautiful, stoic Boone with his midnight hair and intense gaze—lay just beyond Wyatt, one long arm stretched out so his fingertips brushed Wyatt's shoulder. His long hair spread out like a raven’s wing, pitch-black across the blankets. I wanted so badly to touch it. To slip my fingers through it. Maybe braid it for him.

God, what had I done? What had we done?

I couldn't regret it, not when my body still hummed with pleasure, not when I felt more alive than I had in years. But I hadn't expected this. Hadn't expected to feel so... complete. I’d been missing pieces of myself ever since the injury. Somehow, these men had scavenged the world, finding spare parts to match, and they’d inserted the new bits to make me whole again.