Page 142 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

The weight of him on her tongue, the taste of him as she swallowed. His groans echoed between them, bounced around the room, and urged her on. She wanted him panting, desperate. Wanting the only thought on his mind to be more.

“Lyric,” he groaned, the sound tortured.

Just like she wanted him to sound.

He pulsed against her palm, a physical reaction he couldn’t hide, and Lyric smiled to herself.

“What’s so funny?” he rasped.

“Nothing,” she answered. “It’s just nice to see you lose a little of your control.”

His gaze darkened, and he tightened the fist in her hair, tugging gently, to the point that she had to follow his hold, shimmying up his body until she straddled his hips. His hard length slid between her thighs, and she couldn’t help but roll her hips over him. It was a tease for the both of them, feeling him so hot and close to where she needed him.

Henry tugged her downward, taking her lips and invading her mouth. He pulled away only when she was breathless, and smirked. “You want to see me lose control, hm?”

His gaze, even darker than before, studied her features, and she met him with a slowly dwindling confidence. But her arousal trumped all of it, and she pushed herself up, bracing against his chest as she shifted her hips up to make room for him. His cock brushed against her lips, and she lowered a hand, wrapping it around his length and centering it at her core.

The blunt head pressed against her, and she held his gaze as she lowered herself onto him. His gaze was heated, and his lids shuttered as she rocked on him, taking him in inch by inch. Ever since he’d given her the tattoo, she’d wanted him inside her, and now he finally was. And it was worth every minute, worth waiting for more than half an hour, because Lyric never wanted to stop.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she sank down, her ass bumping his hips. He filled her completely, totally, and his fingers tightened around her waist, holding her to him as she adjusted to his size.

Her breath was short, her heart pounding, desire thick in her veins and making it hard to think, to move, to—

A gasp parted her lips as Henry reached up to tweak and tease her nipples. It sent shivers along her skin, and the spike of pleasure made her jolt atop him. She groaned and lifted herself up, feeling him drag inside her as he partially slipped free. Then she lowered herself with a snap, her patience evaporating as the pleasure rose.

She began to bounce in earnest, chasing the friction of him against her, inside her. He stroked his fingers over her tattoo, reminding her that he’d technically already marked her.

But she wanted a different mark.

Henry froze, gripped her hips tight, and kept her from moving. He paused, her hips resting against him, his cock deep inside her. She gasped at the fullness.

With one arm around her waist and shoulders, he rolled them, keeping himself seated inside her the entire time. When the mattress was soft beneath her, Henry hard and hot above her, he moved at his own pace. He slid deep inside, tilting her hips up and nudging himself against that spot inside her that sent bursts of pleasure across her senses with every thrust.

Henry was desperate now, she could tell from the cadence of his breath, from the way he fisted the bedsheets beside her head. From the way his hips slapped into hers, the sounds reverberating off the walls in a symphony only they could create.

With every thrust, his knot nudged at her core, threatened to stretch her open. Lyric keened, tilted her hips up, and tried to pull him closer with her fingers clawing into his back and side.

Thinking of the tattoo, the mark, made her think of another type of mark. One she couldn’t escape.

Instead of saying it aloud—the words were too caught up in the moans escaping her throat anyway—she tilted her head to the side.

It was instinct. She wanted a mark, and baring her throat would give Henry the green light.

Lyric cried out, squeezed around him, and rocked her hips up to meet his thrusts as he lowered his head.

His teeth nipped over her neck, and she went limp beneath him as pleasure scattered over her senses. A part of her not totally lost to pleasure recognized that it wasn’t a mark, not the irreversible kind, but Lyric didn’t care in the moment.

She wrapped a leg over the back of his thigh, trying to push him deeper inside her. His knot pressed against her core again and she moaned.

Lyric wanted it. Wanted to feel him stretch her open and fill her up in the way only an alpha could.

A part of her recognized how crazy she sounded, at least to Lyric of six weeks ago. But now, now she wanted to share something with Henry that would be theirs.

Something no one could take from her or hold over her head. Something that she had control over, and even though Henry was the alpha, even though he could crack her in half if he wanted, Lyric knew every shred of control was clenched between her fists.

So she tightened her grip on the reins and tugged.

Henry grunted, his breath cool against her skin, at least compared to the heat bubbling beneath the surface.