Page 18 of The Honor of Being Hers (Terms of Devotion #1)

She didn’t know how long she had slept for.

The light in the room had shifted, late now, stretched and low, golden enough to catch on the sweat still drying between her shoulder blades.

The sheets beneath her were rumpled and damp, twisted around her legs like evidence of what they’d done.

Her body ached, but not in a fragile way.

Her thighs were tender, marked with faint bruises from their grips.

She could still feel the phantom weight of their hands, their mouths, the stretch and fullness that had left her so completely claimed.

She felt heavy, her core molten and hot, her chest still rising too quickly for how still she lay.

They hadn’t left her.

William was curled at her back; she could feel the solid warmth of his muscular frame against her spine as with one arm draped over her hip, his breath steadily brushed against the nape of her neck.

Ryan sat upright, leaned against the headboard, one hand resting on her ankle where it had crept into his lap in sleep.

His broad chest was still bare, defined muscles relaxed but ready.

Those sharp green eyes watched her with quiet intensity, and his dark hair fell across his forehead in a way that made her want to brush it back.

Tyler lay at her front, close enough that she could feel the weight of his thigh pressed between hers, grounding her. His sandy brown hair was sleep-tousled, and she could see the gentle concern in his warm hazel eyes even in the dim light.

Lauren blinked slowly, her lashes catching on the dried edge of sweat and tears.

There had been so many tears, not from pain, not from shame, but from the way they held her open, the way they stayed even as her body gave out.

Salt tracks had dried on her cheeks, and her throat was raw from crying out their names, from begging and pleading and finally breaking apart completely.

No one had rushed her. No one had taken more than she offered.

She hadn’t known pleasure could feel like that, like being treasured.

Tyler moved when she shifted, his instincts immediately alert to her emotional state. He pressed a kiss to her collarbone before looking up, his perceptive hazel eyes reading her face without speaking.

“I’m still here,” she said softly.

“We know,” he murmured.

Ryan didn’t speak, but his hand slid up her leg to rest just beneath the crease of her knee, palm broad, fingers teasing. There was something in the contact that steadied her breath more than anything words might have done.

William nuzzled closer. “You smell different.”

Her body went rigid for a moment, a reflex, but then she exhaled. Not because she didn’t know what he meant. Because she did.

“We’ve bonded?” she asked, voice catching.

“No,” Tyler said. “But our scents have started to mingle.”

“I feel…” she trailed off. There wasn’t a word for it. Not safe, exactly. Not full. Maybe settled? Connected and grounded also felt appropriate.

Ryan shifted to stand, his body unfolding in a series of smooth, quiet movements that spoke of controlled strength.

He left for only a moment, returning once more with a bowl of warm water and a soft cloth, the ceramic bowl warm against his palms. She barely remembered the other times one of them had done this for her during her heat and couldn’t help but bask a little in the way they cared for her.

As he knelt beside the bed, dipped the cloth, and began to wipe her skin with slow, careful strokes.

He slowly moved to clean her between her legs, where she was still swollen and sensitive, and across her thighs, which were sticky with their combined release, down her calves, where his fingerprints still showed faintly.

“You don’t have to do that.” She offered on a sigh. She probably should get up and shower.

“Shhh, stay, sweetheart. I want to,” he said, his gaze never leaving her face.

Tyler gathered the scattered clothing and sheets from the night before, shaking out a clean throw from the chair by the wall. William helped Lauren sit upright, his arms steady beneath hers, holding her until her legs remembered how to bear her weight.

They moved her as though she were precious, their touches reverent against her sensitized skin. The Egyptian cotton of the fresh throw was silk-soft against her body, and she could smell the faint lavender scent from where it had been stored.

There was no rush.

After she’d been cleaned and resettled in the center of the nest, extra pillows stacked around her, warm throws tucked beneath her knees, the pack sat close. Close enough to touch. Not quite touching. Waiting.

“What now?” she asked, voice quieter than before.

“If you want it,” he said, “we’ll claim you publicly and mark you with our scent. We can formalize the bond whenever you feel ready. There is no rush; we can take our time to get to know each other better.

“And if I say no?”

Ryan’s voice was quiet. “Then you will sleep. And we will hold you until you’re ready.”

Lauren looked at each of them. Tyler’s quiet focus. William’s quiet hunger. Ryan, steady and still, as if waiting for her breath to catch up to her courage.

“I want it,” she said. “I want to take the next step. I want your scents all over me.”

No one moved for a moment.

Then William leaned forward and kissed her first, low at the base of her throat, where the hollow pulsed warm beneath her skin, and then rubbed himself against that spot.

Tyler followed. Wrists. Knees.

Ryan last. A kiss and a nuzzle behind each ear. One more just below her navel.

When they finished, the air had changed.

Not just the chemical composition, but also emotionally. The room already smelled like theirs, but now it felt like that too, like Lauren and the three Alphas who had waited, held back, and then given everything.

She didn’t cry. But her hands trembled when Tyler pulled her against his chest. William crawled in behind her. Ryan draped a blanket over all three of them and settled at their feet.

The light dimmed slowly, and no one asked for anything more.

She had already given them everything.

And they had given it back.