Page 10 of The Honor of Being Hers (Terms of Devotion #1)

Lauren woke to warmth: not the artificial heat from heavy blankets or afternoon sunlight streaming through windows, but the real, living warmth that came from being surrounded by those who cared for her, the kind of safety that settled into your bones and made everything else feel possible.

The memories came flooding back fast enough that she had no chance to feel confused about where she was or how she’d gotten there.

After sharing her first real kisses with her Alphas the day before, she’d floated through the rest of her schedule in a dreamy haze that had nothing to do with medication and everything to do with the lingering taste of their mouths and the phantom sensation of their hands on her skin.

Yes, she’d returned to work as planned, she was an adult with professional responsibilities, after all, but it was fortunate that she worked remotely, because she had absolutely no idea what she’d actually accomplished during those hours.

She could only hope she hadn’t somehow deleted months of research or sent embarrassing emails to colleagues.

At the same time, her mind replayed every moment of their afternoon in the conservatory.

After finishing her work for the day, they’d invited her to join them for movie night, and she’d spent the entire evening cuddled between the three of them on the massive sectional sofa in their entertainment room.

She’d moved from one set of arms to another like a treasured object being passed between careful hands, and she honestly couldn’t remember which film they’d watched.

She’d been far too busy being kissed and eagerly kissing back every inch of skin she could reach.

She’d learned quite a lot during those delicious hours of exploration, mapping the geography of their responses with growing confidence.

Tyler enjoyed having his hair played with, but when she’d unconsciously clenched her hand in the fabric of his shirt while he was kissing her neck, she’d nearly found herself flat on her back on the couch cushions.

It was only William’s pointed throat-clearing that had made Tyler pull back and murmur against her ear, “You’re lucky we’re not alone right now, Lauren, or we’d be doing significantly more than kissing.

My control only extends so far when you make those sexy little sounds. ”

He’d given her one more scorching kiss that left her breathless before lifting her from his lap and giving her a gentle nudge in Ryan’s direction.

The rest of the evening had continued along much the same pattern, not that she was complaining in the slightest. Though truthfully, she’d been a frustrated, desperately aroused mess by the time they’d finally called it a night.

Still, the education had been invaluable, and, more importantly, addictive.

She’d discovered that Ryan went absolutely wild when she scratched him lightly with her nails, arching into the touch like a cat as his scent spiked with possession and barely controlled hunger.

After she’d experimentally dragged her nails down his chest through his shirt, he’d deposited her in William’s lap with a feeling of barely-controlled urgency, his breathing uneven and his eyes dark with want.

William, as it turned out, had incredibly sensitive ears.

When she’d innocently traced the shell of his ear with her tongue while he was kissing her collarbone, he’d gone so rigid she’d worried she’d hurt him.

He’d practically thrown her back toward Tyler with a muttered curse and a desperate look in his eyes, his scent spiking with something that made her Omega purr with satisfaction.

She hadn’t been able to feel offended by their reactions because by that point in the evening, she’d become as acutely aware of their arousal as she was of her own.

The scent of their desire had been intoxicating, feeding her own hunger until she felt drunk on possibility.

It had felt as if she touched any of them in precisely the right way, she’d find herself naked and beneath them before she could draw another breath.

In the end, when it had finally been time to retire for the night, they’d asked if she would like to sleep with them.

No sex involved, just sleeping together and possibly some more gentle, or not so gentle, kissing.

Her response had been to hold out her hand and ask which bedroom they preferred, and that was how she’d ended up here.

Now she lay with her head pillowed on Tyler’s broad shoulder, the soft cotton of his shirt warm against her cheek.

She squinted against the gentle morning light filtering through gauze curtains that stirred with a barely perceptible breeze.

Ryan was pressed against her other side, his muscular arm wrapped securely around her waist, his chest solid and warm against her back through the thin fabric of her shirt.

William occupied the space on Tyler’s far side, one large hand resting possessively on her hip even in sleep.

Their combined scent enveloped her like a cocoon, and she could feel her Omega biology responding with deep contentment. This was what a pack was supposed to make her feel like: safe, cherished, completely protected.

Tyler and William were obviously still deeply asleep, their breathing slow and even, but Ryan’s fingers had begun tracing lazy patterns across her stomach through the thin fabric of her sleep shirt, a gentle exploration that made her skin tingle with awareness.

“Morning, love,” Ryan murmured, his voice rough with sleep and contentment.

She said nothing in response, but when she didn’t pull away from his touch or tense under his caress, he smiled against her hair, the expression she could feel rather than see.

“How did you sleep?” he asked softly, his fingers continuing their gentle exploration.

“Better than I have in years,” she admitted quietly, not wanting to wake the others.

“Good. That’s what we want, for you to feel safe enough to rest properly.”

His hand moved slightly higher, fingers splaying across her ribs just below her breast, and she felt her breath catch. Through the thin cotton of her shirt, she could feel the heat of his palm, the careful restraint in his touch.

“Is this okay?” he asked, stilling his hand. His palm was warm and broad against her ribs, and she could feel the slight calluses on his fingertips through the cotton—evidence of whatever practical work had shaped those hands.

“Yes,” she whispered, then surprised herself by adding, “More than okay.”

The next few days settled around them like silk, smooth and luxurious and surprisingly natural.

The structured activities that had initially felt like obligations–the communal meals, the grounding hours, the one-on-one time that was supposedly meant to stabilize her Omega biology–had gradually transformed into genuinely pleasant habits.

She found herself looking forward to these moments, craving the connection they provided.

These routines made her Alphas happy, and their contentment in turn fed a yearning part of her soul that she’d never known about.

More importantly, she was beginning to understand how the pack hierarchy worked in practice rather than in theory.

Ryan was clearly the Alpha, the leader whose authority the others deferred to instinctively.

However, that leadership manifested itself in protection and guidance rather than domination.

When he made decisions about her care, the others supported them not because they had to, but because they trusted his judgment.

Tyler brought therapeutic expertise and emotional insight, his gentle nature providing the perfect counterbalance to Ryan’s intensity.

William offered security and practical protection, his background and current occupation making him hypervigilant about her safety.

Together, they created a support system more comprehensive than anything she could have imagined.

The Rules if they weren’t kissing or cuddling, they were talking, sharing stories, getting to know each other as people rather than just biological archetypes.

The mornings had developed their own gentle rhythm.

She was naturally an early riser and had fallen into the habit of sharing a light breakfast with Tyler before joining William for his morning walk around the extensive estate grounds.

Then they would all gather for a proper breakfast together before she’d retreat to work for a few hours.

At some point mid-morning, whichever Alpha was scheduled would steal her away for their one-on-one time, reading together in the sun-drenched conservatory, working out side by side in the estate’s well-equipped gym, or simply talking in whatever space felt most comfortable.

And at night, they cuddled and kissed like their lives depended on the contact, exploring each other with growing confidence and boldness.

They were still frustratingly careful about not pushing beyond certain boundaries, but she was beginning to appreciate their patience even as her body craved more.

All four of them slept tangled together in the massive bed now, a configuration that should have felt crowded but instead felt like coming home.

Everything changed the night Ryan asked if he could take her out on a proper date.