10. Hero #2
We’re careful not to push too far. This isn’t about sex, not yet.
It’s about connection, about trust being built touch by touch.
About Brookes allowing himself to be open with us, and us proving we deserve the precious gift he’s offering.
I want to devour him whole, but more than that, I want him to feel safe in his surrender.
Brookes rocks against me, his ass grinding down in a way that makes my vision blur at the edges.
He gasps, the sound half-swallowed when I grip his hips to guide the motion, my fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to leave marks.
His eyes close, head tilting back in abandon as Dante leans in and kisses his exposed throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.
Levi’s hand slips under the hem of the hoodie, resting warm and steady on Brookes’ side, thumb stroking hypnotic circles.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper, unable to contain the truth any longer, the words torn from somewhere deep and honest inside me.
His eyes fly open, darkened with arousal but suddenly shy, a flush spreading across his cheekbones like watercolor on wet paper. He looks startled, as if beauty is the last thing he expected to be called in this moment, as if he can’t possibly see what we all see in him.
The exploration continues, each of us learning Brookes’ body through cloth and skin with increasing urgency.
My hands map the dip of his spine, the curve of his ass, while Dante’s fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just enough to make Brookes whimper.
Levi’s mouth finds the sensitive spot behind his ear, and soon Brookes is trembling not with nervousness but with undisguised pleasure, his body a live wire between us.
His grinding becomes more deliberate, his dick hard against my stomach, and I have to breathe through my teeth, counting backward from ten, to maintain even a semblance of control.
“We should slow down,” Dante murmurs, always the tactician, always thinking three steps ahead, though I can see the strain of restraint in the tightness around his eyes, the tension in his jaw.
Brookes makes a disappointed sound, half whine, half groan, but nods, collapsing forward onto my chest. His breathing is ragged, matching my own, hot puffs against my collarbone that make me ache to flip him over, to pin him down.
I would love to watch him fall apart in my arms, to feel him come undone against me, but this isn’t the time for physical release.
Not yet. This moment is too fragile, too important to rush.
Levi presses his forehead between Brookes’ shoulder blades, his lips moving in what might be a silent prayer, while Dante’s hand continues to stroke soothingly along Brookes’ side, his touch a promise of what’s to come.
We shift and rearrange until we’re a tangle of limbs, half on top of each other, breath syncing into a shared rhythm.
Brookes’ cheek rests against my heart, his fingers curled into my shirt like he’s anchoring himself to me.
His weight, slight compared to what I’m used to carrying, feels exactly right, like a missing piece sliding into place.
I brush my hands down the side of his face, tracing the elegant line of his jaw, the slight hollow beneath his cheekbone. I’m overcome with tenderness for this man who has been through so much and still finds the courage to try. To trust. To let us in.
“Heart,” I murmur, the word slipping out before I can catch it. It emerges from someplace deep inside me, a truth I didn’t plan to reveal so soon.
Brookes freezes against me, every muscle going tense. His fingers tighten in my shirt, and his breath stops altogether. For one horrible moment, I think I’ve ruined everything, pushed too far, too fast.
Then he melts, his body becoming liquid warmth against mine, tension draining away like water.
“Say that again,” he whispers, voice small but steady. There’s wonder in those three words.
“Heart,” I repeat, pressing my lips to his temple, breathing in the lingering scent of roses that clings to his skin. “My heart.”
He makes a sound that might be a laugh or might be a sob, muffled against my chest. I feel the vibration of it more than hear it. “You’re all so stupid,” he says, but there’s no bite to the words, just a fragile disbelief. “So fucking stupid for wanting me.”
In those words, I hear all his ghosts, everyone who treated him as disposable, as less-than. The family who abandoned him, the industry that uses him, the monsters who hurt him. I wish I could go back and stand between him and every harm that ever came his way.
“Smartest decision I ever made,” Levi counters, his arm tightening around Brookes’ waist, voice warm with certainty. His eyes meet mine over Brookes’ head, a silent communion, an understanding.
“Worth every risk,” Dante adds, fingers tracing patterns on Brookes’ shoulder.
I say nothing more, letting my body speak for me.
The protective curl of my arm, the steady beat of my heart beneath his ear, the kiss I press to the crown of his head.
While other Alphas might need to dominate with words, I’ve always found more power in silence, in actions that can’t be misinterpreted.
Brookes drifts toward sleep between us, his breathing growing deeper, his body surrendering to exhaustion.
This is what completeness feels like. Not silence, but stillness.
Not protection out of duty, but because we want him.
Want this. The night wraps around us, cocooning this fragile new thing we’re building together. Our pack.