Sally's POV
Dawn hasn't broken yet when I slip from sleep, surrounded by the steady breathing of my four mates. The bedroom holds their combined warmth, creating a cocoon I never want to leave. My body carries the sweet ache of what we shared, each tender spot a reminder of how completely they claimed me.
Heat floods my cheeks as memories surface. Every touch, every whispered word, every moment they showed me what it meant to be truly loved. I should feel embarrassed, shouldn't I? That's what years of conditioning taught me. Good girls don't do what I did last night. Good girls certainly don't enjoy it the way I did.
But those voices feel distant now, like echoes from someone else's life. The woman who worried about propriety and judgment seems like a stranger. Because what happened between us wasn't shameful or wrong. It was inevitable, necessary, sacred even.
