Chapter 27
Shepard
The last time I saw someone like this was Camila.
She had been trembling, feverish, eyes wild with the same glazed need Sadie has now. I had spent hours with her, desperate to soothe her, holding her together with my hands, my mouth, my cock until her body finally broke and calmed. That memory slams into me now, gutting me.
And this is worse. So much worse.
Because this is Sadie. Pink-streaked hair, storm-tossed eyes, wrapped in nothing but a slipping sheet. The woman who has already threaded herself into the quietest corners of my life.
My trousers are uncomfortably tight, and I hate myself for noticing. For letting my gaze stray from her face down to the stiff peaks of her nipples pressing against the thin cotton.
God, I want to touch her. I want to close my mouth over them and lick until she’s sobbing.
I force my eyes back up, to the tears sliding down her cheeks. “What can we do?” My voice cracks. I’m not even sure who I’m asking—myself, her, Gabe.
I glance at him, desperate for direction, but Gabe’s expression is a storm barely contained. He’s every inch the Alpha, jaw locked, fists clenching, his chest rising and falling with the strain of holding himself back.
Sadie shifts under the sheet. Her hand drags low, almost absent, almost unconscious, slipping beneath the fabric. She caresses herself with a whimper, and I don’t think she even knows she’s doing it.
My throat works painfully. “I’m a Beta, and I can barely control myself. This must be torture for you, Gabe.”
His eyes flash, dark and molten. He leans forward, his voice shredded. “Do you think there’s nothing I want more than to fucking knot you until you can’t walk?”
Sadie gasps, eyes blown wide, her lips parting.
Gabe’s jaw tightens, his control barely a thread. “But Boone is your partner. He claimed you first. And so this? This would be wrong.”
“I know,” she whispers, voice raw. Her eyes shimmer with tears, her body trembling under the weight of it.
Her hand moves again, bolder this time, and Gabe curses under his breath. He lunges forward, catching her wrist. Her fingers are glistening when he pulls them up, her slick shining in the dim light.
“Stop that,” he growls. Then his mouth lowers before either of us can stop him.
He licks her fingers clean, slow and rough, and her moan rips through the room, a sound that makes every nerve in my body snap.
Her gaze drags from Gabe’s mouth to me. “Help me,” she breathes.
Something inside me breaks. I move before I can stop myself, crossing the space between us in two steps. My hands cradle her face, my lips crashing down on hers.
It’s wrong. It’s reckless. And it’s the sweetest, filthiest kiss I’ve ever had in my life.
Her mouth is hot, desperate, open. She tastes like salt from her tears, like heat and need, and I’m drowning. She clings to me, pulling me closer, and the sheet slips down her shoulders, baring her breasts.
I groan into her mouth, pulling her tighter, kissing her like she’s oxygen and I’ve been choking for years. My hands slide to her neck, to the soft curve of her jaw, holding her there as if I can anchor her to me.
The sheet falls lower, pooling at her waist. My eyes devour her. Pale skin flushed pink, nipples peaked, her chest heaving with every ragged breath.
“God,” I whisper against her mouth, my forehead pressed to hers. “We shouldn’t.”
“I don’t care,” she gasps, pulling me back in, lips frantic.
Gabe moves. I feel the shift of the mattress, the heat of him beside us. His hand slips under the fallen sheet, between her thighs.
Sadie whimpers into my mouth as his fingers find her. Her body jolts, and I swallow her cry with another kiss.
“Fuck,” Gabe mutters. “You’re soaked.”
Her hips buck against his hand, chasing it, desperate. I pull back just enough to watch. Her eyes are glazed, her lips swollen from my kiss, her face twisted with pleasure as Gabe’s fingers work her open.
I can’t look away.
My hand trails down, hesitant at first, then bolder, cupping her breast. She moans at the contact, arching into me, and the sound wrecks me.
“Is this okay?” I rasp.
“Yes,” she breathes, frantic. “Yes.”
I roll her nipple between my fingers, tugging lightly, and her back arches. Gabe’s hand moves faster, his fingers thrusting into her, curling deep, his thumb circling her clit.
I slide lower, my palm pressing against her stomach, pushing down gently so she can’t squirm away, so we can both see every shudder, every quake of her body as Gabe fingers her.
Her cries fill the room, raw and uncontrolled. She writhes between us, her legs trembling, her hands clutching at the sheets.
“Look at me,” I whisper, capturing her gaze even as her eyelids flutter. “Stay with me.”
Her eyes lock on mine, desperate and wild, and I feel the exact moment she tips over the edge.
Her body bows, her hips grinding into Gabe’s hand, her mouth opening on a scream. Her orgasm tears through her, violent, shaking her apart, her thighs clamping down around his wrist.
I hold her steady, my hand pressed firm on her stomach, watching her unravel, feeling every quiver under my palm. Gabe’s jaw is tight, his movements relentless until she’s sobbing, begging, her body spent.
Finally, she collapses back against me, sweat-slick, hair plastered to her face, her chest rising and falling in jagged heaves.
I brush the damp strands back from her temple, kissing her cheek, her jaw, soft, reverent. My heart hammers so hard it hurts.
“We shouldn’t have,” I murmur, guilt already coiling tight in my chest. “But Christ, Sadie…”
Her eyes flutter open, glassy and exhausted, and she whispers the words that undo me completely. “Thank you.”
We carry her between us, her body trembling as if her bones can’t hold her upright. She clutches the sheet against her chest. Her face is flushed, her eyes glassy with a heat that doesn’t give her an inch of peace.
Her scent is everywhere—thick, dizzying, curling into every breath I take until it burns my throat.
Gabe nudges the bedroom door with his boot, shouldering it open. The bed is unmade, blankets tangled from when she was thrashing alone earlier, fighting her body, losing the battle. We guide her down onto the mattress, her hair spilling pink and damp across the pillow.
We ease her back into the pillows, her body boneless, her chest heaving, her hair plastered to her damp cheeks. Gabe’s jaw is taut and his shirt clings to him with sweat. I can barely breathe.
My cock is throbbing, my body screaming for release, but all I can see is her.
I stroke her hair back, kiss her temple. “It’s over,” I whisper, even though the words taste like a lie. “Rest now.”
But she shakes her head weakly, her lips trembling. Her hand clutches mine, dragging it back down to her chest, pressing it over her racing heart. Her eyes are glassy, desperate.
“More,” she breathes.
My gut twists. “Sadie—”
“Please,” she whimpers, her body arching, hips restless under the sheet. “It’s not enough. I still need—” Her voice breaks, raw, strangled.
Gabe curses, sharp and low. He drags a hand through his hair, his chest rising and falling like he’s caged. His eyes flick to mine, dark, wild. I see the question there, the warning. But I also see the crack in his armor.
“I can’t,” I whisper, but even as I say it, I’m leaning closer, my thumb stroking her jaw.
Her lips part, trembling. “Then don’t stop me.”
She shifts, the sheet slipping lower. Her breasts are bare again, flushed and peaked, and she looks at us like she’s offering herself up. Like she trusts us not to break her even as she begs us to.
Gabe growls, the sound feral. “Fuck it.” He lowers himself again, gripping her thighs, spreading her open. She gasps, her head thrashing against the pillow, a cry tearing from her throat.
I stay beside her, my hand stroking her face, her hair, her trembling arm. She turns to me, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. “Shep.”
“I’m here,” I whisper, kissing her temple, then her damp cheek, then her lips. She kisses me back, frantic, her tongue sliding against mine as another moan rips out of her.
Gabe groans against her, obscene sounds filling the room. He’s lost, his shoulders flexing as his head moves between her legs.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur, my lips brushing her ear, her throat. My hand slides over her chest, cupping her breast, rolling her nipple between my fingers. She cries out, her back arching, pressing herself harder into both of us.
She grabs my hand suddenly, drags it down her stomach, lower, lower, until I’m pressing against her abdomen, holding her down so she can’t thrash away from Gabe’s mouth.
“Please,” she gasps, her lips brushing my palm, kissing it again, clinging to it.
“Does it feel good?” I ask, my voice shaking.
“Yes,” she sobs, her thighs clamping around Gabe’s head. “God, yes.”
I can feel Gabe’s growl vibrate up through the mattress, through her body, into mine. My cock twitches painfully, her other hand fumbling at my trousers again. She finds me, squeezes, and my head drops forward with a groan.
“I want to think,” I rasp, my forehead pressed to hers. “I want to stop. But I can’t.”
“Don’t,” she begs.
Her hand strokes me harder, and I bite back a curse. My body betrays me, hips jerking into her palm.
Gabe lifts his head, his jaw slick, his eyes black. “She’s dripping,” he snarls, ragged. He fists himself, his knuckles white, then spits between her thighs and dives back in.
Sadie screams, clutching me so hard her nails dig into my skin. Her cries are wild, sobbing, frantic. I kiss her hard, swallowing the sound, my hand gripping her hair, pulling her closer.
Her body is trembling uncontrollably. She’s gasping, begging, her voice breaking. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”
Gabe groans into her, his shoulders jerking. I stroke her breast, her stomach, pressing her down, forcing her to stay open for him. My own cock aches, throbs, but all I can do is kiss her, whisper to her, hold her together.
“You’re safe,” I murmur against her lips. “We’ve got you. Let go.”
Her eyes lock on mine, wild, glazed, and then she breaks.
Her scream is hoarse, tearing through the room as her body bows, every muscle locking. Her thighs squeeze Gabe, her hips jerking, her hands clawing at me as she convulses.
I hold her down, my palm firm on her stomach, feeling every spasm, every quake. Gabe doesn’t stop, his growls muffled against her until she’s sobbing, writhing, shaking apart.
“Beautiful,” I whisper, kissing her face, her damp hair, my own breath ragged. “God, you’re beautiful.”
Finally, she collapses, limp, tears streaking her cheeks, her chest heaving. Gabe drags himself up, his mouth wet, his chest heaving, his fist still tight around himself. He looks wrecked, undone.
I cradle her, pulling the sheet back up, tucking it around her trembling body. Her eyes flutter half-shut, her lips forming my name.
“Shep.”
“I’m here,” I whisper, kissing her forehead, holding her tight against me. My cock is still hard, my body screaming, but all I can do is rock her gently, stroke her hair, whisper nonsense until her breathing evens.
Her hand slips from mine, falling heavy against the mattress. Her lashes flutter, her body slackening into sleep.
I look up. Gabe’s watching me, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark. We don’t say a word. We can’t.
The air is thick with what we’ve done.
And nothing will ever be the same.
“I need a minute,” he growls, and before I can ask if he is okay, he’s out the door.
My chest is heaving. My hands are shaking. My cock is still hard, straining against the front of my pants like the last twenty minutes didn’t happen. Except it did. Christ, it did.
I stumble into the bathroom and lock the door behind me. The click is too loud. Too final. My reflection stares back from the mirror—glasses fogged, shirt half-untucked, jaw clenched. I look like a man I don’t recognize.
I grip the sink with both hands, bowing my head. “Fuck,” I whisper. The word scratches my throat raw.
I don’t want to do this. I can’t do this. And still—my hand drops, yanks my zipper down, and I fist myself like a starving man stealing bread. My cock is thick and aching, wet already from the precome that’s been leaking since she begged me to kiss her.
I spit into my hand and pump, slow at first, then faster. My head tips back against the mirror. I keep my jaw clenched, teeth grinding, desperate not to make a sound. I can’t let her hear me. I can’t let Gabe hear me if he’s still pacing outside.
Images I should bury forever rip through me instead. Sadie, writhing on the bed, begging for more. The look in her eyes when she pulled my hand to her lips and kissed my palm. The sound she made when Gabe’s tongue was on her. The way her thighs shook, the way her skin flushed.
My pace turns brutal. I brace one hand against the counter, the other working my cock hard and merciless. I try to think of anything else—Camilla’s face, books on a shelf—but nothing sticks. It’s only Sadie. Only her voice, her scent, her need.
I bite my wrist to muffle the groan that breaks out of me. My hips jerk. My balls draw tight. And then I’m coming, hard, spilling across my fist and the porcelain sink in thick white ropes. My knees damn near buckle.
I choke on a breath, forcing myself to stay quiet as the orgasm rips through me. Hot, shameful, endless. I pump until there’s nothing left, just the sting of overstimulation and the echo of my own guilt.
I collapse forward, palms braced on the sink, cock still twitching in my fist. My breathing is ragged, sweat dripping down my temple. I stare at the mess I’ve made, disgust curling in my gut even as the last aftershocks pulse through me.
I should clean up. I should pull myself together. But before I can even grab a towel, I hear it.
Shouting.
It cuts sharp through the apartment. One voice first—low, furious. Then another, louder, angrier.
My blood runs cold.
I drag my pants back up, tucking myself away, fumbling with the zipper as the voices escalate. Furniture scrapes. A thud rattles the floorboards. Someone snarls something I can’t make out, but the tone is unmistakable. Rage.
I don’t even wash my hands. I shove the bathroom door open and follow the noise, heart hammering harder than it has all night.
When I round the corner into the living room, the sight hits me like a blow.
Boone. Finally here, face wild, fists flying. Gabe, just as feral, meeting him blow for blow. Both men snarling like wolves, years of tension and resentment boiling over in one brutal fight.
“Enough!” I shout, but neither of them hears me.
They’re too far gone, fists cracking against jaws, bodies slamming into walls. Boone’s eyes are fire, Gabe’s jaw set like stone. Every hit is a question and an answer, all of it unspoken.
And under it all, I know the truth.
They’re fighting because of her.
Because of what just happened in that room.
Because of we all crossed a line we can’t uncross.