Page 126 of Pack Plus One

By the time we stumble out, we’re cleaner but no less sated. The dining table becomes our next conquest. Leah bends over it with a challenge in her eyes.

“Think this will hold us?”

The table creaks ominously but holds as Jude takes her from behind. Caleb sprawls across it, offering himself to her mouth, while Mason and I stand sentinel on either side. Her hands find us, stroking in time with Jude’s thrusts.

When we finally move to the kitchen counter, I can’t hold back any longer. I guide Leah onto the cool surface, her legs wrapping around my waist as I press into her.

The moment stretches—her heat, her tightness, the way her breath hitches as I fill her completely.

“Liam,” she gasps, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

I don’t move at first, just savor the feel of her around me, the way her body adjusts, the flutter of her inner walls as she takes me deeper.

Jude crowds behind her, his cock sliding against her ass as he mouths at her shoulder. “Fuck, look at you,” he murmurs. “Taking him so well.”

Caleb’s hand joins mine on her hip, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin there. “Perfect,” he rumbles.

Mason watches from the edge of the counter, his gaze dark with want, his fingers trailing down her spine.

I start slow, savoring every inch of her, every gasp, every clench of her body around me. But Leah—stubborn, demanding, perfect Leah—arches into me, urging me deeper, faster.

“More,” she demands, her nails scoring my back.

I give it to her.

Jude’s hands roam her body, teasing her nipples, her clit, anywhere he can reach. Caleb’s mouth finds hers, swallowing her moans as I drive into her. Mason’s fingers trace the curve of her spine, his touch featherlight but grounding.

When she comes, it’s with a cry that shakes the room, her body tightening around me like a vise. I follow her over the edge, my release spilling into her with a groan that feels torn from my chest.

Jude isn’t far behind, his release painting her stomach in thick stripes as he murmurs filth against her skin.

Dawn finds us sprawled across Leah’s bed in a heap of exhausted limbs. I wake to sunlight streaming through the curtains and two distinct realizations:

First, Jude is exclaiming loudly from the bathroom about mysterious bite marks on his shoulder, his voice echoing slightlyagainst the tile. “This one is definitely teeth,” he announces, poking his head out of the doorway with wide eyes and a barely suppressed grin. “And it’s way too small to be Caleb’s prehistoric chompers.” His eyes light up. “Do you think Leah bit me?” The hopeful pride in his voice is almost comical.

Second, and most significantly, Leah is curled against my chest, one hand splayed against me like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go. Her face in sleep is peaceful, the worry lines that had creased her forehead when we found her at Zoe’s completely smoothed away. Her scent is content, soft, without the bitter notes of anxiety or fear.

“You bit me!” Jude emerges from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, pointing dramatically at a crescent-shaped mark just below his collarbone. He’s practically preening, tilting his neck to display the mark like it’s a medal of honor.

Leah blinks sleepily, lifting her head from my chest to squint at him. “I don’t remember that.”

“That’s not how this works!” Jude protests, bouncing on his toes with theatrical indignation while fighting a smile. “You can’t just go around leaving territorial marks on people and then conveniently forget about it. There’s a system, a protocol—I should at least get to brag about how it happened!”

“There really isn’t,” Mason interjects from where he’s methodically arranging muffins on a plate he’s found in Leah’s kitchen. He’s already dressed, though his hair is still damp from the shower.

“Quiet,” Caleb grunts from where he’s sprawled across the foot of the bed, one arm flung over his eyes to block out the morning light. “Too early for this shit.”

“It’s nearly ten,” Mason informs him mildly.

“Like I said. Too early.”

Mason passes out muffins without further comment. His efficiency in taking care of the pack’s basic needs, even in unfamiliar surroundings, never ceases to impress me.

Leah accepts a muffin, her fingers brushing mine as she shifts to sit up properly. For the first time in days, her scent is completely calm. She takes a bite, humming with pleasure at the taste, and I find myself captivated by the simple joy of watching her enjoy something so ordinary after the emotional turmoil of the past days.

“These are good,” she says, surprise evident in her voice. “Really good.”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” Jude says around a mouthful of his own muffin, apparently momentarily distracted from his bite mark grievances. “Mrs. Finley strikes me as a woman who doesn’t half-ass anything, including baked goods.”

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