Page 169 of The Rust in Her Hair

The beta freezes. His eyes cut to Nico, then to Mack, then back to me, and I watch the war break out across his face.

I know he wants me, I can smell it in his clean beta scent, but he’s also spent eight years learning where a beta stands in a pack, learning that the alphas move first and he waits, but I don’t care about any of that hierarchy bullshit. I just want my Owen.

"Please." It's the only word I can find. My fingers curl in the air. "Owen, please."

"Go on." Nico's voice is deep, vibrating around the room. "She's asking for you, beta. Don't make your omega ask twice."

That seems to do it, and Owen moves.

His glasses are gone now, and his bare eyes are dark and soft and fixed on mine like there's nothing else in the room worth looking at. The mattress dips as he settles next to me. Then his hands are on my face.

He caresses my cheeks, smoothing my hair away from my face as he kisses my lips.

I moan against him, then open my mouth, begging him to deepen it.

And he does.

His warm tongue slips between my lips, tasting every corner of my mouth. I moan into his, a desperate, needy sound, my fingers digging into the hard muscle of his shoulders. Then I feel his hand smooth over one breast, before sliding down over my belly and lower, and one finger dips into me.

The noise he makes goes straight through me.

It's a low, hungry sound, muffled against my mouth, a filthy groan of approval that makes my pussy clench. He sinks that finger into the knuckle and drags it slow through the wet heat of me. He shudders all over as he does it again, a full-body tremor of pure, unadulterated lust.

"God, Lyra." His forehead drops against mine. His voice is wrecked. "You feel like heaven. You're so soft. So wet." He works the finger deeper and groans again like he can't help it. "I've thought about this for so long. About how you'd feel."

I roll my hips down onto his hand and whimper for more.

He gives me one last slow curl of that finger, then slides it free, and shifts. He settles himself down between my open thighs, the weight of him warm and sure against me, and lines himself up where I need him most.

But he doesn't push in. He rubs the smooth, blunt head of his cock against my slick folds, coating himself in my wetness. The slow, deliberate drag of him against my clit is a sweet torture that has my whole body trembling with anticipation.

Then, inch by beautiful inch, he slips inside me.

He's not as thick as an alpha, but he's long and smooth, and the angle hits that wonderful spot deep inside me on the first thrust. A soft groan escapes him, his breath warm against my cheek.

"Fuck." He pulls his cock almost all the way out, then he pushes in slower, his eyes never leaving mine. "You feel so good." Another long, deep roll of his hips. "Do you have any idea how many nights I laid awake and thought about being inside you?" His voice cracks on the next stroke. "Look at you taking me. My sweet girl. My perfect girl. I've loved you longer than I've had any right to."

My hips lift to meet his, a silent plea for more, and Owen meets my movements.

His thrusts are slow and deep, a languid, sensual rhythm that stokes the fire in my belly instead of consuming it. He leans down, his mouth finding mine, and the kiss is just as deep and thorough. His tongue sweeps in, mimicking the movement of his hard cock.

He's not simply taking my body. He's worshipping it, and with every slow, deliberate stroke, with every deep, possessive kiss, he's slowly pushing me to that glorious edge.

It’s like nothing else on earth exists. Just me and Owen.

And then I come.

The pleasure doesn't rip through me. It builds, a slow, cresting wave that lifts me higher and higher, the coil in my belly winding tighter and tighter until I'm poised on the very peak. Then I come, a long, shuddering moan tearing from my throat as pleasure crashes down on me.

I feel my inner walls clench hard, gripping my beta’s cock, refusing to let go. I moan into his mouth and come apart while he fucks me straight through it.

Owen loses it seconds later. He drives in deep and holds, and I feel his cock jerk and swell and spill hot inside me. Pulse after pulse. He groans my name against my lips like it's the only word left in him.

For one moment I hold him there, and we both shake, his forehead dropping to mine. I love this. I love the weight of him and the wet feel of him inside me and the way his heart slams against my chest.

But my body is already twisting for more.

My heat doesn't care that I just came.