Page 86 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

He trailed his lips along the waistband of her pants, slipping his fingers under the edge and pulling. She lifted her hips, shimmying them to help him get the fabric out of the way. Once they sailed off the side of the bed, Adra took a breath to steady himself, but that in itself was a mistake.

Honey. Lavender. Heaven.

Lyric’s scent filled his senses and overwhelmed him in the best way. It made his mouth water with the desire to taste her. His gaze lifted north, catching her ocean gaze, half lidded with need and shadowed with uncertainty.

This was unchartered waters for him and Lyric.

He’d just have to make sure they stayed afloat.

Lyric gasped with need as Emerson’s lips wrapped around her other nipple. Her gaze was locked on Adra, but all of her attention was centered on the need between her thighs, the pleasure arching from one nerve ending to the next as their hands roamed the expanse of her bare skin.

So lost in her haze, Lyric failed to recognize Emerson’s movements until the burning cold sensation of the ice met her skin again, this time lower, below her breast. It trailed south, and Lyric’s stomach concaved beneath the cold, her chest heaving with a gasp before she held her breath.

It melted against her warm skin, tiny rivulets of water streaking down her stomach before dripping over the sides. Chills burst across her body, and she moaned as Emerson passed the ice cube to Adra before the bucket clinked as he grabbed another.

Adra chased the damp lines with his tongue, warming her up where she’d been frozen just a second before. But what followed was just another war of cold and warmth as the cubes traced shapes all over her stomach, thighs, and breasts.

It dipped down her sides and between her thighs, until Lyric was digging her fingernails into Emerson’s neck and Adra’s shoulder.

“Please,” she begged breathlessly. She didn’t even know what she was asking for, but knew she just needed them to do more.

Adra’s hand, flat against her thigh as he traced a trail of cold water, tightened around her once.

“Okay,” he answered softly. His hand trailed to the left, gripping the inside of her thigh, so close to where she wanted him—needed him.

Lyric pressed her thigh against his touch, widening her legs, opening herself to him.

It was fucking poetic.

She’d battled with her own needs, her own wants, just like the hot and cold, until she was ready for Emerson. For Adra.

Because she knew, somewhere beneath the carnal need, that this was just their beginning.

As if Adra had watched her finally come to that conclusion, he let the teasing melt away with the last of the ice. As the rivulets dried on her skin, it was from the heat he created within her. With each light kiss of Adra’s lips, every gentle touch of Em’s fingers, it fanned hotter, burned brighter, until he finally tasted her. His hum of pleasure vibrated against her and pulled a moan from her throat, one that Emerson leaned up and swallowed.

And so it went. Adra would pull more moans from her just to feed Emerson, and her own pleasure built into the brightest crescendo until, with a swipe of Adra’s tongue and a press of his fingers, he brought her to a blinding orgasm. Em swallowed her cries and gasps, and Adra brought her down slowly.

Once she blinked her eyes open, she reached for Adra, wanting to taste herself on his lips, knowing it was him who was there with her at the bottom where she’d fallen so recklessly from the crest.

His warmth blanketed her, and Emerson slid from the bed, though to do what she didn’t care, not in that moment, not as her thoughts were slowly stringing themselves together again, more with each kiss.

His lips were full and warm and wet from her, and the thought itself made her squeeze her thighs around his hips. His erection pressed against her, the heat and pressure intoxicating even after her first orgasm. Of course she wanted more.

Lyric wouldn’t be content with just a taste, just a tease. She wanted everything, every part of him.

She dropped her hands to his waistband, feeling the flat, strong expanse of his stomach before she shoved at his boxers.

Their lips parted slowly, a line of saliva connecting them, and Lyric wet her lips to break it.

“Please,” she begged.

She was past the point of caring. She wanted the emptiness in her filled, she wanted to be full, wanted Adra to be the one to do it.

Once his boxers were gone, Lyric wrapped her hand around him and hummed, his hot length filling her palm, the girth so much more than she’d ever had before. Even Emerson wasn’t as thick, but they were about the same length.

His hips jerked into her hand as she tightened her grasp around him, stroking and spreading the precum leaking from the tip. It coated her hand and made the glide so much easier, and knowing it was her, that she was affecting him that way, was an aphrodisiac in itself.

She studied him, taking in every bit of him. What a god damned sight.