Page 17 of The Rust in Her Hair

I almost believe it.

"You look so tense, cariño." Nico shifts closer, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. His arms wrap around my shoulders from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder blade.

The scent of dark amber and leather surrounds me, undercut with the clean, earthy smell of his skin. His fingers work at the buttons of my dress shirt, one by one, his knuckles brushing against my chest with each movement.

"You are a good man, Owen," he murmurs against the side of my neck. His lips are warm, his breath sending shivers down my spine. "Lyra's lucky to have you as a friend."

I lean back into him, my head falling against his shoulder as he continues to unbutton my shirt. His hands slide inside, palms flat against my chest, his touch both possessive and comforting. I can feel the rough calluses on his fingers, the contrast between his work-roughened hands and the gentle way he touches me.

"Always taking care of everyone," he continues, his voice dropping to a low rumble that vibrates through my entire body. "Always the responsible one. But you know what I think?"

I shake my head, unable to form words as his thumbs circle my nipples, making them pebble beneath his touch.

"I think you need someone to take care of you for once." His teeth graze the sensitive skin where my neck meets my shoulder, and I gasp. "I think you need to let go of all that control you're always clinging to."

His hands slide down my stomach, fingers tracing the waistband of my trousers. I arch into his touch, my body responding instinctively as his hand pushes past the fabric.

His palm is warm against my skin as he wraps his fingers around my cock. I'm soft at first, but that changes instantly as his thumb circles my cock head, his other hand pressed flat against my chest.

Blood rushes south, my shaft thickening and lengthening in his grip until I'm fully hard and aching for more. My legs fall open, and Nico's hand moves lower, his fingers cupping my balls, rolling them gently as I moan, my hips lifting off the bed.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice dark with approval. "Already so desperate. Such a slutty beta, aren't you? Getting hard from a little touch."

I whimper, my hips bucking involuntarily. He's right—I am desperate, my cock straining against the fabric of my pants. But it’s been a long, stressful night, and I need to get off.

"Please," I breathe, the word barely audible.

"Please what?" His hands still, waiting. "Tell me what you want, Owen."

"You." I turn my head to capture his lips. "I want you." I pull back and speak against his mouth, my voice shaking with need. "I want you to fuck me, Nico. Hard. Make me forget everything but your cock splitting me open."

Something wild and predatory flashes in his dark eyes. The alpha is excited, horny, and our bond floods with his lust—a hot, possessive wave that crashes over me, making my own desire spike in response.

Nico's pupils dilate, the black swallowing the brown until his eyes look like endless pools of hunger. Then he kisses me again, his tongue claiming my mouth with a dominance that never fails to undo me.

His tongue explores every corner of my mouth, stroking against mine, tasting me thoroughly.

The sensation sends jolts of pleasure straight down my spine, making me hard enough to ache. I moan into his mouth, one hand coming up and curling around the back of his neck, trying to get closer.

Nico's mouth claims mine, his tongue twisting with mine in a slow, sensual dance. His hands slide down my chest, pulling at the last few buttons of my dress shirt. One by one, they come undone, his fingertips brushing bare skin, and when the shirt falls open he pushes it off my shoulders.

"Fuck, you taste good," he growls as he presses his bare chest to my back.

I’m lost in the feel of my mate’s hands and mouth when the memory flashes in my mind: Lyra in the gallery, standing there in her pretty pink dress, her hair up, exposing the delicate curve of her neck. Her mouth is slightly open, her honey-brown eyes wide with innocence.

I wish I had kissed her.

The thought hits me like a physical blow, shocking me with its intensity. But before I can dwell on it, Nico pulls back, his eyes dark with command.

"On your back," he orders, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Now."

I move, obeying without hesitation. He shifts back, giving me room to lie on the bed beside him.

Once I'm in place, Nico moves over me, making the sheet fall away. He's already naked, his cock thick and heavy against his thigh, a clear bead of fluid glistening at the tip.

The lamplight catches the ridges of his abdomen, the powerful lines of his chest, the dark ink of his cross tattoo that seems to pulse with life.

"You have no idea what it does to me, seeing you all dressed up like this." His voice is a low rumble that vibrates through my chest. "So proper and respectable in that tux." He licks his lips as he palms the front of my pants, gently squeezing my cock. "But I think I love taking you out of it even more."