Page 14 of The Honor of Being Hers (Terms of Devotion #1)

She woke to the sound of breathing. Not snoring.

Not speaking. Just the low, layered rhythm of three different bodies arranged around hers like architecture.

The Egyptian cotton sheets beneath her were soft from washing and smelled faintly of lavender as they held the mingled warmth of four bodies through the night.

William lay behind her, solid and warm, one leg hooked gently over hers.

Tyler was in front, arm curled under the pillow they shared, his face still and slack with sleep.

Ryan was somewhere near her feet, spine pressed to the footboard, head tilted back, the rise and fall of his chest steady in the thin morning light.

Lauren didn’t move for a long time. The pillow beneath her cheek smelled like Tyler's hair: cedar and something clean that was purely his.

Her thighs were sticky. Her skin still held the imprint of fingers and mouths, and when she shifted just slightly, the dull ache between her legs tightened with a familiar throb. Not urgent, insistent.

She wasn’t finished.

Last night had cracked something open within her, and now it was spreading.

She felt William stir behind her, the scrape of morning stubble rough against her shoulder. His chest was solid and warm against her back, and she could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat. A beat later, his voice came low, still rasped from sleep.

“You’re hard to ignore when you squirm like that.” His voice was still rough from sleep, and she could feel the vibration of it against her shoulder blade where he pressed close.

She should have felt mortified; should have pulled the blanket higher. Yet, she didn’t. Instead, she arched her hips just enough to press back into him. His cock, already half-hard, pushed against the curve of her ass.

Tyler shifted forward, his arm curling around her waist.

“I think she wants more,” he murmured, mouth brushing her collarbone. “We may have created a monster,” he finished with a smile and a kiss just below her ear.

“She should ask,” Ryan said from the foot of the bed. He hadn’t moved, but when she glanced down, his eyes were open, watching. “Or beg.”

“I want—” Her voice came out thin. She cleared her throat. “I want to feel your hands again.”

Tyler pulled the blanket down to her hips, the fabric sliding against her skin with a whisper.

The morning air was cool against her heated flesh, raising goosebumps that he smoothed away with gentle fingertips.

"That's not what you really want." His fingers traced the edge where fabric met flesh, barely touching but making her nerve endings sing.

“I want to be touched.”

William’s hand found her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple. “Still not specific.”

She swallowed. “I want to come.”

Tyler’s laugh was soft and pleased. “That’s better.”

Ryan sat up fully, stretching out the stiffness in his neck before crawling across the mattress to her side.

The bed dipped under his weight, and she could see the way the morning light caught the dark hair on his chest. He kissed her without hesitation, hot and open-mouthed, one hand threading into her hair as he pulled her deeper.

His tongue swept across hers, slow and filthy, and she whimpered when he pulled away.

“She’s wet already,” Tyler said, fingers sliding down the front of her sleep shorts.

Lauren sucked in a breath as he pressed two fingers lightly over her clit through the damp cotton. He didn’t move them. Just held them there, firm and waiting.

“Please,” she whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

William sat up behind her, gripping her hips as he helped ease her onto her back. Ryan kissed her again, quick, biting, then took both of her wrists and pinned them gently above her head.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, too fast.

He smiled like she’d proven a point.

Tyler pushed her sleep shorts down her legs, the soft cotton catching slightly at her ankles before falling away completely.

She was bare beneath, and the cool air made her shiver, raising goosebumps along her thighs that Ryan smoothed away with his free hand.

His palm was warm and slightly rough, the contrast making her skin tingle.

Ryan shifted his grip, now holding both wrists in one hand while his other stroked the side of her throat.

“You’re gorgeous when you’re needy like this.”

Tyler settled between her thighs, his sandy hair soft against her inner legs.

His mouth replaced his fingers with slow deliberation, warm and wet and perfect, tongue sweeping low, then high, then circling her clit with a pressure that made her spine bow.

She could feel his breath against her most sensitive skin.

William braced her knees apart with his own, one hand cradling her breast as she began to writhe.

Ryan held her still.

Tyler licked her like he was trying to break her open, mouth warm and insistent, hands tight on her hips. Her thighs trembled. Her moans broke into helpless, stuttering gasps.

“I can’t—” she whispered, voice straining. “It’s too much.”

“It’s not enough,” Ryan said, kissing her cheek, her jaw, her throat.

Tyler groaned into her, and she broke.

The orgasm hit hard, her whole body locking around the pleasure as it rolled up from her center. She cried out, thighs clamping, hands straining against Ryan’s grip. Tyler didn’t stop. He held her through it, mouth gentler now, lapping at the pulse of her until she went limp.

They let her breathe. No one rushed her.

When she opened her eyes, William was watching her like she’d just rewritten something in his chest.

“Let her rest,” Tyler said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Not yet,” Ryan said, pulling back enough to sit beside her. “I want her hands on me.”

Lauren blinked up at him. “What?”

Ryan leaned in, brushing hair from her face. “I want to teach you how to touch me. If you’re ready.”

She hesitated, but not because she didn’t want to. Her eyes flicked down. He was hard, obviously so, and the weight of it under his shorts made her throat go dry.

“Okay,” she said. “Tell me what to do.”

He guided her hand down, helped her slide it under the waistband of his shorts.

His skin was hot, velvet over steel, thick and heavy in her palm.

The head was already slick with pre-come, and she could feel his pulse beating against her fingers.

She curled her fingers around him, and the heat of him against her palm was startling, as was the sharp pull of need shuddering through his body at her touch.

“Not too tight,” he said, voice rough now. “Good. Like that. Fuck, just like that.”

She stroked him slowly, wrist moving in a rhythm he set with a low groan and a subtle rock of his hips.

His skin was silk and heat under her palm, and she marveled at how something so hard could feel so soft.

William reached over and kissed her shoulder, his fingers threading through her hair as she moved.

Tyler, still watching, leaned in and bit the curve of her hip.

When Ryan came, it was with a soft curse and a shudder, his hand tightening on hers as he spilled into her palm. She felt a fierce satisfaction at the way his breath caught, the way his careful control had finally cracked open for her.

She felt powerful. Not for what she’d done, but for what they’d trusted her with.

Afterwards, they cleaned her gently, warm cloth soft against her sensitive skin, terry cloth towels that smelled like the same lavender as the sheets, whispered praise that made her chest tight with emotion.

They pulled her between them again, wrapped in quiet and warmth and more skin than fabric. No one asked for more. No one tried.

And for the first time, as she lay tangled between them, bare and content and wrecked in the best way, she didn’t just feel safe.

She felt theirs.