Page 42 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1

Hank’s hands remain firm on my hips, grounding me, steadying me, his fingers flexing like he’s resisting the urge to do more.

The moment stretches between us, charged and waiting.

A slow exhale escapes me, my body tightening under the weight of their gazes. I stand in nothing but my panties, vulnerable—but not exposed.

Not powerless.

Hank’s grip tightens just slightly, the heat of his body searing against my back. “Perfect,” he murmurs, his voice like gravel. “You have no idea, do you?”

My breath stutters. “What?”

Gabe’s fingers trace the side of my breast, not touching where I need him to, just close enough to make me ache. His lips curl, dark amusement sparking in his eyes. “How fucking beautiful you are like this.”

Heat flares beneath my skin, a flush rising up my neck.

Hank’s lips brush my ear, his voice a quiet rasp. “We’re going to show you.”

Gabe’s thumb flicks over my nipple, and I gasp, my body arching instinctively toward the touch.

Hank groans. “So damn responsive.”

My head tips back against his chest as sensation spirals through me, my breath coming faster.

Gabe’s smirk deepens, his other hand tracing slow, lazy circles over my hip. “You like that?”

I nod, but it’s not enough.

Hank’s fingers press into my waist. “Words, Ally.”

“Yes,” I breathe. “I like it.”

Gabe hums in satisfaction. “Let’s see what else you like.”

His lips brush my collarbone, open-mouthed and warm, trailing lower, lower, until his breath fans across the swell of my breast. His tongue flicks out, teasing, and a soft whimper escapes me.

Hank’s hand slides up, fingers grazing my throat, not squeezing, just resting there, a silent reminder of his presence. Of his control.

My entire body tightens, heat pooling low—my legs trembling.

“Look at you,” Hank murmurs, his grip firming slightly. “Falling apart already.”

Gabe chuckles against my skin. “And we’ve barely started.”

I tremble between them, every nerve ending on fire.

I should be nervous. I should be overwhelmed.

But I’m not.

Because I trust them.

Because I want this.

And when Gabe’s fingers slide beneath my waistband, teasing lower, I let myself fall. My breath catches, a shiver running through me as anticipation coils tight in my belly.

Behind me, Hank shifts, his body heat radiating into mine, his fingers still resting against my throat—just a touch, just enough to remind me he’s there, watching, controlling the pace.

“You’re shaking, sweetheart,” Gabe murmurs, lips brushing the swell of my breast, a wicked smirk curving his mouth. “Cold? Or something else?”

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