Page 143 of The Rust in Her Hair

He cups my face in both hands, his thumbs catching the tear and wiping it away, and his dark eyes hold mine, steady and sure and burning.

"Sweetheart. You never have to beg me for a single thing." He tilts my face up. "You want to be ruined? Then that's exactly what’s going to happen." His voice drops into that low register that makes my knees weak. "I'm going to spread you out on your father's desk and lick that prim little pussy until you're begging for my cock." He leans in, ghosting his mouth over mine. "I want to hear you scream my name in this house, knowing your piece of shit father is down the hall while I'm balls-deep inside his perfect daughter."

"Please," I practically pant. "Ruin me."

Behind Locked Doors

Nico

Lyra’s scent is all over the place. She smells thick with desire, excitement, fear, lust, and adrenaline. And our bond is also tangled.

I’m not entirely sure what’s going on in that beautiful brain of hers, but I know that this place has fucked her up more than I’ll probably ever know. We should have never brought her back here.

And judging by the look on Adrian’s face, he agrees.

I squeeze Lyra’s hand in mine "This way, gorgeous." I draw her forward slowly, like I'm walking a lady into dinner instead of leading my naked mate across her father's office.

My sweet omega moves without hesitation, her sandals whispering against the rug, her eyes locked on mine, then I stop right in front of the desk.

It's a monstrous thing, dark wood and green leather, buried under stacks of files, paperwork, and carefully opened envelopes. There’s an expensive lamp on one end and a decanter filled with whiskey on the other.

I sweep my arm across all of it.

The whole mess goes crashing to the floor. The decanter shatters, the papers scatter, the lamp hits the rug with a thud and rolls. And Lyra's eyes go wide with delight, a startled little laugh catching in her throat at the destruction.

There it is. That's my girl.

In one swift movement, I close my hands around her waist and lift her onto the edge of the desk.

Her shoes fall off, hitting the floor, one after another. Then she gasps, and I can only assume the wood is cold under that perfect ass.

"Are you coming?" I glance at Adrian, taking in the hard outline of his cock, then up, to the worry in his eyes.

The alpha looks torn. His jaw is tight, his eyes cutting toward the locked door and then back to Lyra like he can't help himself.

It makes me smile.

Adrian has always been a rule follower. He color-codes his tools and reads every damn instruction manual. He is, in every way that counts, the most careful man I've ever loved. But every alpha needs to do something reckless every now and then, and I'm not letting him talk himself out of this one.

"Come here," I say to him. It isn't quite an order. "The house can burn for five more minutes."

Adrian takes one step, transfixed by Lyra.

She looks gorgeous sitting all proper on the edge of the big desk. Her hair is wild and her skin is already flushed. And her scent.

Fuck, it's like walking into a wall of warm sugar.

It's the scent of an omega begging to be mounted

I step in close to Lyra and push her knees wide apart, opening her up for me. She lets out a little whimper, then she leans back on her hands and lets me spread her out on the surface where her father does his business. And the sight of her like this, pink and wet and waiting, nearly makes me come.

I shuck out of my jacket and toss it aside, then roll up my sleeves, slow. Lyra's eyes lock onto my hands, tracking every fold of fabric up my forearms. I pull at the knot in my tie, and Lyra snarls low in her throat.

It makes me smile. "My poor, needy girl." I slip my hand up her wet inner thigh. "So impatient." Then I drop to my knees in front of her, and I put my mouth on that dripping cunt.

I drag my tongue up through her slick and it floods my mouth. She's so fucking sweet it makes my teeth ache and my cock weep. I groan against her, and I feel her jolt, her thighs jumping around my ears. I hold her open with my thumbs and do it again, slower, working my tongue through every soft fold, tasting all of her.

My cock twitches when I flick her clit. The damn thing is crushed behind my zipper, throbbing with every heartbeat. But I don't touch it. This isn't about me. This is about giving my omega exactly what she needs.