Page 89 of The Rust in Her Hair

I watch through half-lidded eyes as he unbuttons his slacks and pushes them down his legs, toeing off his shoes as he steps out of them. Then his boxers go too, and he straightens, letting me look my fill.

In twenty-four years, I have seen too many marble statues of naked men, and none of them have compared to Owen’s perfect body.

He’s pure, lean muscle, and I drink in every detail while Nico laps at my slick.

I stare at the solid line of Owen’s chest, the V at his hips, the faint trail of hair leading down his stomach, and his cock, already hard and flushed and heavier than I let myself picture on all those lonely nights.

The sight of him bare sends a fresh pulse of heat through me.

This beta is mine.

Owen slips his glasses off and folds them onto the bedside table, then he climbs onto the bed beside me.

He stretches out along my side and takes my face in both hands, cradling it, tilting it up toward him. His hazel eyes move over my face, like he's trying to memorize me, like he can't quite believe I'm here in his bed with his husband's mouth between my legs.

Nico's tongue circles something that makes my hips jerk, and a broken gasp jumps from my throat.

It felt incredible.

My breath climbs, ragged and fast when Nico does it again.

"Lyra." Owen's voice is barely a breath against my cheek. "Can I kiss you?"

I've waited a year to hear him ask me that.

I sweep my tongue across my dry lips and manage a single meek word. "Yes."

Then he kisses me.

And, oh, it's better than I ever imagined.

Owen kisses me like he's been starving to touch me as long as I have, one hand sliding into my hair with his hungry mouth slanting over mine. His tongue strokes past my lips and I open for him the way I did for Nico, chasing the taste of the beta. Sage and lemon and something warm underneath, and the whole world tilts sideways.

Between my legs, Nico's big hands close over my hips.

He grips me firm and starts to move me, rolling my hips up against his face in a slow, filthy rhythm, showing my body what it's supposed to do. I whimper into Owen's mouth. Nico does it again, guiding me, teaching me the grind of it, and something instinctive catches fire low in my belly.

I take over.

I roll my hips against his tongue on my own now, greedy for it, and Nico rumbles his approval, letting me chase it.

Owen keeps kissing me through all of it. He palms one of my breasts, kneading, his thumb brushing over my nipple, before pinching it.

I arch up into his palm and down onto Nico's mouth, caught between the two of them, drowning in the sensations.

Then Nico closes his lips around my clit and sucks. I’m lost in the feel of his mouth when something touches my entrance. Owen sucks my tongue, right as Nico pushes one thick finger inside me.

The alpha curls it, sucking and lapping and flicking my clit.

The sound I make is loud and shameless, muffled against Owen's mouth.

My back bows clean off the mattress. It's so much all at once, his mouth working my clit and that finger sinking deep, stroking somewhere inside me. I didn't know I could feel like this, a stretch and a fullness I've never given myself in the dark.

Nico pumps his finger, curling, and the fire in my belly pulls tight and tighter, winding toward something enormous.

This is so much bigger than anything I've chased alone. So much more.

"That's it." Owen's voice is thick, right against my lips. His fingers on my nipple. Pluck, roll, tug. "Let go, sweetheart. Come all over your alpha’s face."