Page 22 of The Honor of Being Hers
William reached up and cupped one breast with a low hum.His thumb swept slowly across her nipple until her hips jerked forward, grinding against Ryan’s thigh.Tyler kissed her again, harder this time, while Ryan held her in place.
“You want more?”Ryan asked, teeth at her jaw.
“Yes,” she whispered, almost angry with how much she meant it.
“Then we’ll give you just enough,” William said, fingers now tracing the waistband of her underwear.“But no more tonight.”
She nodded.Or tried to.She couldn’t think.Could barely breathe.
The first time William touched her through the thin cotton, she cried out.The fabric was already damp, clinging to her skin like a second layer, and his fingers moved with deliberate pressure that made the wet cotton drag against her in ways that blurred the line between barrier and sensation.She could feel the texture of the lace against her most sensitive skin, intensified by the moisture and his touch.His fingers moved slowly, teasing at first, then firmer, slipping down, circling where she needed pressure most.Ryan held her hips as they moved.Tyler kissed her neck and whispered filth in her ear, what he wanted, how she tasted, what she’d sound like when she finally broke apart.
She came too fast.
Embarrassingly fast.
Ryan held her tight, whispering yes as her body shuddered in his arms.William’s hand stayed soft against her, coaxing every aftershock with deliberate care.Tyler pressed kisses to her shoulder, then to her spine.
They didn’t ask her to move.Didn’t shift their weight or press for more.
She lay there, half-naked, wrecked, and completely safe.The air around them was thick with the scent of arousal and satisfaction—her sweet Omega perfume mingling with their deeper scents until the room felt saturated with want.None of them moved to change position; they were content to hold her in this moment of perfect surrender.
Ryan’s hand remained steady on her hip, thumb drawing small circles against the bone.
And when she finally looked up, all three of them were watching her like they already knew they’d never want anyone else.
10
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.”
