Page 86 of The Rust in Her Hair

I crawl up and plant both hands next to that stunning face.

She trembles slightly as I admire every inch of her.

Her honey eyes have gone huge, her pulse jumping visibly at the base of her throat, clearly as excited as I am. My eager little omega, wound up and desperate to be touched, and it feeds the animal in me until I can barely see straight.

Fuck, I can’t wait to see both Adrian and Mack buried to the root in her sweet holes.

Forcing myself to go slow so I can savor her, I lay one hand on her bare hip. The second my skin meets hers, my eyes drift shut on their own. Nothing has ever felt this right.

The warmth of her sweet body soaks into my palm, and something in me goes quiet, like the first deep breath after holding it too long.

I open my eyes, then slowly gather the hem of Lyra’s thin shirt—my shirt—and drag it up her body, baring her inch by inch. Her stomach is soft and trembling. I expose the dip of her waist, noting three little freckles that dot the left side. I’m going to kiss each and every one of them. Then higher, until her breasts spill free, full and heavy and tipped with dark, tight nipples.

She's laid out beneath me like something I don't deserve, all soft curves, plush thighs, and velvety skin gone pink with a flush that spreads down across her chest.

My cock aches at how good she looks in my bed, trapped behind my zipper. The damn thing has gone so hard it hurts, the thick denim of my work jeans crushing it against my belly.

Every heavy breath Lyra takes wrings another pulse out of me, until I'm leaking precum against the rough fabric, straining for a release.

Not yet, I tell myself as my father’s words echo in my head. It’s important to cherish an omega the first time you claim her.

And I intend to do that.

Leaning down slowly, I press my mouth to one breast, right over one stiff nipple. She gasps, and the sound goes straight to my cock. I drag my tongue across the tight peak, tasting her vanilla-sweet skin, then close my lips around it and suck gently, coaxing.

But something isn’t right.

She hasn’t moved.

No arch, no hand in my hair, no moaning. She's gone rigid beneath me, holding so still it finally cuts through the haze.

Worried, I lift up to look at her face, and everything in me stills.

The omega laying beneath me no longer looks like the bold little thing who demanded I fuck her.

She looks scared and so incredibly young. Younger than I've ever let myself see her. Her eyes are huge and glassy with her bottom lip caught hard between her teeth. Her hands are fisted white-knuckled in the sheets like she's bracing for something she doesn't understand.

It hits me all at once, and I feel like the world's biggest bastard for not seeing it sooner.

She’s a virgin.

The animal inside me loves that. It wants me to pin her down and rut her stupid, sink into her and knot her and mark her so deep nobody could ever mistake who she belongs to.

But she's small, and she's shaking, and some human piece of me that the beast hasn't destroyed yet knows exactly what she needs her first time to be.

"Lyra," I whisper her name, my voice like fucking gravel.

But the omega isn’t looking at me.

Her eyes cut toward the doorway, where Mack and Owen are still standing, watching every second of this. Her throat works as she swallows, and the fear on her face sharpens.

That decides it.

"Out," I say firmly, not looking away from Lyra’s delicate face. "Both of you." I turn and look at my two mates. "Get out."

Mack's body goes taut. He's got one shoulder braced against the doorframe and his cock is already tenting the front of his jeans. His head snaps to me, eyes wide with rage at the idea of being forced to leave.

But Owen blinks at me, lost.