Page 104 of Pack Baby for the Silver Foxes

“That sounds inconvenient.”

Lincoln looked up. “Most things worth doing are.”

She kissed me this time, and not shyly. Her mouth opened under mine, and her hand slid into my hair. Lincoln made a low sound.

We moved her toward the bed.

She stopped at the edge. “The nest is delicate.”

Lincoln looked at the bed, then at me. “It’s structurally sound like us. The top is delicate like you.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“Never. By delicate I meant precious.”

I sat first and drew her between my knees. Lincoln stood behind her, hands at her waist, his thumbs stroking slow circles through the thin fabric of her tank.

Mary’s gaze dropped to my lap, then quickly away.

“Still compiling notes?” I asked.

“Shut up.”

“No.”

“I preferred you noble. But now I remember. You were both obscene in my heat.”

“Are you complaining?”

Lincoln kissed the side of her neck. She moaned as her words disappeared from her mouth.

I watched her eyes close, watched the pulse in her throat flutter, watched Lincoln keep his teeth carefully away from the place on her neck he wanted to claim, even though I knew what it cost him.

“You liked that in your heat,” he murmured. “Our mouths.”

Mary’s eyes opened. Her blush deepened. “Did I?”

“Aye.”

“You liked his mouth there,” I said.

Her gaze snapped to mine.

“And my hand here.” I touched her hip, then waited.

She nodded.

I slid my hand over the curve of her hip to her thigh.

“You liked being held between us.”

Her breath shook.

“You liked not having to hold yourself up.”

That one struck deeper.

Mary swallowed. “Don’t stop.”