Page 85 of The Rust in Her Hair

He stops dead the second he clears the frame, that big body going rigid. Without thinking I turn my head toward him watching as the alphas green eyes go wide, and then black.

Nico growls.

It rolls up out of his chest, low and absolute, and my chin snaps back to him like he's got a hand fisted in my hair. I feel the command in my body before my brain catches up to it.

Look at me. Only me.

Then he leans in.

He plants both hands on the mattress and lowers himself down until that broad, dark face is level with mine, and the whole room narrows to him. No Owen. No Mack. No Adrian…wherever he is.

I really wish he was here.

But it’s just Nico and the black of his eyes and the heat rolling off his bare skin.

“Alpha,” I whisper. “Where’s Adrian?”

"Don't worry about Adrian." Nico's voice stays low and even, giving nothing away. His hand comes up and closes warm around my throat, tipping my face back to his. "He's fine. Right now the only thing you need to think about is me."

I swallow, and I feel his palm shift against my throat with the motion, his fingers warm on either side of my neck. He isn't squeezing. He's just holding me there, steady, and somehow that grounds me and undoes me at the same time.

"Yes, sir," I whisper.

Nico nods, pleased. "Now, I'm going to ask you one more time.” His gaze drags over my face and settles on my mouth. "What the fuck do you want?"

My heart hammers against my ribs, a frantic drum against the cage of my chest. All my life, I've been taught to be quiet, to be agreeable, to want what I'm told to want. But this feeling burning through me is stronger than any lesson. I take a shaky breath, gathering every ounce of courage I have left, then I look the alpha right in the eyes.

"I want you to fuck me."

Mine

Nico

"I'm going to ask you one more time," I growl softly at Lyra. "And this time you're going to use your words, omega."

I pause, looking deep into her wide honey-brown eyes as her scent floods me. Warm vanilla and toasted almond gone so thick and heady like a fresh orgasm. And that makes sense. She's soaked with slick.

And the idea of her kneeling on my bed, and working herself up to this, has my mouth watering with how badly I want to taste her.

"What the fuck do you want?"

And the bold omega looks me dead in the eyes as she says, "I want you to fuck me."

Boom. Every rational thought I've been white-knuckling for the last ten minutes vanishes.

Without thinking, my hand shoots out, gripping her ankle, and sweeping it out from under her. Lyra pitches onto her back with a startled little yip. Then I haul her toward me, and her shirt rides up, baring more of that pretty little pussy.

Her hands fly to the hem, scrabbling to yank it down over herself.

I close my fingers around her wrist and stop her.

"Oh, no." My voice comes out lower than I've ever heard it. "Too late for that now, omega."

She goes still under me, pulling in shallow little breaths.

"You've been kneeling here flashing that sweet cunt at me this whole time." I slowly drag her down the mattress by her ankle, until she's laid out where I want her. "Trying to show me what's mine. You don't get to cover it up now that I'm looking."

Her breath stutters, and the scent of fresh slick rolls up off her, so sweet and thick it makes my mouth water and my teeth ache.