Floating
Lyra
The kitchen counter is hard under my butt, but I keep my legs wrapped around my alpha’s waist, not wanting to let him go.
“That feels good,” Nico rumbles when I push my nails into his hair and over his scalp. He keeps his mouth on mine, kissing me like he's got all the time in the world, which he kind of does.
After everything that happened at that awful party, my boys all decided somebody needed to stay, and Nico quickly volunteered. And I’m so damn happy. I didn’t want to be left all alone, because I’ve honestly been insatiable the last few days. There's no other word for it.
All weekend I've wanted them constantly, waking one of them up in the dark, tugging another away from the coffee pot, needing to be touched and filled and held until my skin stopped feeling too tight for my body. It's embarrassing, honestly, how much I've wanted.
I keep waiting for one of them to raise an eyebrow, to gently suggest I give it a rest.
But none of them have. Not once.
They've just lavished me with attention, and love, and praise, and those perfect cocks, meeting every greedy pull of me like it's the best thing that's ever happened to them.
I guess this is what a lifetime of loneliness does to an omega.
It turns her into a real slut.
"What’s with the smile?" Nico pulls back just far enough to look at me, those green eyes gone soft under all that scruff. “You look like the cat that got the cream."
“I’m happy,” I hum, tipping my face up for more.
“Good.” Those dark eyes scan my face, drinking me in. “I like seeing this pretty face all soft and warm and happy.”
I preen under his praise. I can't help it. My whole life I’ve been told I was a disappointment, and now I've got this big alpha whispering sweet things into my ear like I hung the moon, and my body soaks up every word.
"Nico," I say, tracing line of the cross tattoo across his chest.
"Mm."
"When will Adrian and Mack get to mark me?"
The big alpha huffs a laugh through his nose, and his hand comes up to cradle the side of my neck, his thumb resting just below the mark he already left.
"There is nothing I want more than to watch both of them put their teeth in you.
" His voice drops, low and certain. "To see their marks sitting next to mine.” His dark eyes hold mine.
"But you have to be patient, omega. It isn't time yet. "
"Why not?" I chase his mouth for another kiss.
"Because." He drags his thumb along the edge of his mark, and I feel the touch everywhere. "We have to wait for you to go into heat.”
I immediately frown. “Why?”
His smile grows, laughing again at how impatient I obviously am. “Because it’s dangerous to mark an omega outside her heat.”
“But I wasn’t in heat with you.” My face warms as I remember the shameless way I acted.
"Actually, I think you were." He kisses the tip of my nose. "It was a little heat. It's the only thing that explains that night. If you hadn't been, I never would have risked it."
"A little heat?” A laugh shakes through me, and I feel my pussy tighten, tugging gently at his knot where it's still seated inside me. Nico’s breath catches, his eyes going dark for a second.
"Do that again," he growls softly.
"Do what?"
"Laugh." He presses his forehead to mine. "I felt that everywhere."
I giggle again, smiling so wide my face is starting to hurt.
"You know, I'm not a religious man," he says, his gaze dragging down my body. "But if there’s a force in this universe that all goodness comes from, it's this body."
I press my finger to the cross inked over his heart and trace the length of it. "This says otherwise."
His mouth curves. "Reformed Catholic." He catches my hand and flattens it against the tattoo, holding it there. "Gave up the church a long time ago. These days the only thing I want to get on my knees and worship is this perfect pussy right here."
My face warms suddenly feeling a little shy under those intense eyes. Ducking my head, a giggle slips out, and I feel his cock twitch inside me.
"There she goes again," he growls, that rare smirk pulling at his mouth. "Doing the Lord's work." He tips my chin back up and kisses me again, slow and deep.
"Mm. My very own devout alpha." I smile into the kiss. "I think I’d like to see you on your knees.”
"Don't tempt me." His voice drops, rough and warm against my mouth. "I'd love nothing more than to spend the whole damn day worshipping between those pretty thighs.” He kisses me once more, slow. “But sadly, we have things to do.”
I frown as he shifts and I feel his knot finally starting to go down. The pressure inside me eases, and a moment later he draws out of me slow and careful, one big hand cupped low on my belly like he's steadying me.
Then the alpha scoops me right off the counter.
I yelp and grab his shoulders as he carries me down the hall like I don't weigh a thing, into the little bathroom with the pale yellow tile. He sets me on my feet, reaches into the shower, and cranks the water on.
I pout. "I don't want to clean up yet."
"That right?" He kisses the tip of my nose.
"I like being messy." I fold my arms, pushing my breasts out. His dark eyes fall to them, and I bite my bottom lip. "I like walking around all day full of you."
Nico groans low and drags a hand down his beard. "Woman, you cannot say things like that and expect me to walk out this door."
"Then don't." I wrap one hand around his semi-hard cock, pulling him to me.
I’m taking desperation to a whole new level, but I just don’t care.
"Omega." His voice drops in warning, though his eyes are still dark on me. "We left that kitchen looking like a crime scene, and you know how Adrian gets. He’ll kill me if he comes home to that mess." He presses a kiss to my forehead. "Clean up. I'll deal with the evidence."
I stick my tongue out at him. He grins and pulls the door most of the way shut behind him.
The water's perfect, hot and steady, and I duck my head under it and let it run down my back. I reach between my legs to clean up the mess Nico left, and that's when it hits me.
A cramp, low and deep in my belly, a dull pulling ache that curls in and fades.
I go still, one hand on the tile.
Shit.
It comes again, softer this time, a strange heavy warmth low in my gut. I press a palm flat against my stomach and wait it out. While I wish it was my heat, that’s not due for another few weeks. This has to be from stress. Lord knows there's been enough of it in my life lately.
My father, Crispin, the party, the whole life I upended. It would make sense for my body to be a little out of sorts.
I finish rinsing off, shut the water down, then dry off. And that’s when I hear the front door.
Light footsteps move through the living room. Owen.
He's home early.
Warmth flickers through me, and all thoughts of those cramps vanish.
I grab the pair of soft cotton panties that Nico set out for me on the counter, as well as one of his shirts.
I step into the panties and pull the shirt on.
The material is thin and soft, and it swallows me whole.
I inhale the collar, pulling in that hazelnut aroma, then I practically skip out of the bathroom, excited to see my beta.
"You're home early," I yell out, coming around the corner into the living room. "It’s not even noon—”
Then I stop dead in my tracks.
Nico is standing in front of Owen still completely naked, one hand gripping Owen's chin, tilting the beta’s face toward the light. The skin under one eye is dark and dusky and there’s a smear of dried blood at the edge of his nostril.
My stomach drops.
"Owen, oh my god, your face." I rush to my mate. "What happened?"
"It's nothing." Owen catches my hand, and he even manages a small, tired smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Really. It looks worse than it is."
But it isn't nothing.
While I don't share a direct bond with Owen, I have spent over a year learning this man's face, and I know when he's holding something back. There's a tightness around his mouth that has nothing to do with a sore nose.
Something happened.
"Sit down," I tell him, steering him toward the couch with both hands. "I'll get ice." I hurry to the kitchen, dig a handful of cubes out of the freezer, and wrap them in a clean dish towel.
Nico still hasn't said a word. He's just standing there, watching Owen, all that easy warmth gone out of him. Even our bond is silent.
He must be livid.
I press the ice gently to the swelling under Owen's eye. He hisses, then covers my hand with his.
"Tell us what happened," I say quietly.
Owen's jaw works. He looks at me, then at Niico, and I watch him decide whether to spare us.
"Owen." Nico’s voice comes out low and flat, filled with alpha authority. "Talk to me, carino."
It takes a moment, but then Owen lets out a slow breath. "Crispin came to the library this morning."
The name goes through me like ice-cold water, and my hand goes still against Owen's face.
"He came to see me in my office." Owen keeps his voice even, careful. "He's figured out we're a pack.”
The bottom drops out of my stomach, and my mouth goes dry.
“He wants Adrian to call him tonight,” Owen continues, “and if he doesn't, he's going to tell Aldric that Lyra's being kept by a pack and have the claim overturned."
I'm suddenly dizzy.
The edges of the room go soft and distant, and my hands are cold and prickling.
"He hit you?" Nico’s voice drops to a dangerous tone as he stares at the blood at Owen's nose, the bruise. "That son of a bitch put his hands on you." Fury rolls off the alpha, that big easygoing body drawing up tight and mean.
"I'm fine—"
"You are not fine." Nico turns, looking for something. His eyes land on his phone in the center of the coffee table. He snatches it up, and for once there's not a scrap of humor anywhere on him. "There’s not one fucking thing about this that’s fine."