A different kind of heat washes over me, one that's nervous and excited. I nod, a small, shy motion. "Okay," I whisper.
Beck lets out a tight breath, then he moves with a slow, deliberate grace. He kneels between my legs, his touch timid as he gently pushes them apart. He's not looking at me with the raw, possessive hunger of an alpha. He's looking at me almost as if he’s in awe.
Then he leans down, and the first touch of his tongue is a soft, tentative flick against my clit.
It's so different from the rough, demanding pleasure our alphas give.
This is sweet and tender.
Beck licks me clean with long, slow strokes, his mouth gentle and thorough. It’s clear he’s not trying to make me come. He's cleaning me. And it feelsamazing.
I sigh, my body melting into the blankets. I thread my fingers through his shaggy hair, my touch light. "Beck," I murmur, his name a soft puff of air.
He looks up at me, his lips glistening, his blue eyes full of so much affection it takes my breath away. He doesn't stop his gentle ministrations, just continues his sweet, loving exploration, and I let him. I don't come, but I don't need to.
The feeling of his mouth on me, the quiet intimacy of this moment, is more than enough.
In fact, it's everything.
It’slate afternoon by the time Beck and I make it into the kitchen. I wanted to stay wrapped up in my pack’s protective bubble, but my stomach wouldn't shut up.
I clasp my hands together as we step into the kitchen, realizing just how hungry I am.
Soft sunlight streams through the back windows, making the dust motes dance in the light. The house is quiet, my three alphas still passed out in my nest.
It feels like Beck and I are the only two people awake in the entire world.
"Okay, my lady," Beck says with a playful bow, opening the refrigerator. "What are your culinary demands? We have…” He squints, looking into the fridge, “...leftover steak. Alotof leftover steak." He pulls out a platter covered in foil, revealing at least five perfectly cooked, expensive-looking ribeyes from the dinner we never finished.
"My culinary demand is for lobster mac and cheese," I tease, hopping up onto the counter beside the stove. “But I’ll settle for cold steak.” My stomach growls, and the thought of steak starts to sound better by the second.
“Lobstermac and cheese?” Beck’s brows shoot up. “Fancy.”
“Not really,” I snort. “They used to serve it at Danvers, but it was pretty obvious that it was that fake crab meat, but it was still damn delicious.”
Beck laughs as he grabs a cutting board and a wicked-looking knife. “Well, I’m prepared to make you the best day-old steak of your life.”
The beta moves with an easy confidence, his trim body clad only in a pair of low-slung sweats. I watch the muscles in his back shift as he starts dicing the meat, and a warm, contented feeling settles in my chest.
He catches me staring and glances over his shoulder, a slow, sweet smile spreading across his face. "What?" he asks, his voice soft.
"Nothing," I say, but I'm smiling back. "You're just nice to look at."
He blushes, that adorable pink creeping up his neck, then focuses back on the steak.
I slide off the counter and wrap my arms around his waist from behind, pressing my cheek against his warm shoulder. He smells so good. I press a soft kiss to the back of his neck.
"Hey," he chuckles, his knife pausing. "I'm trying to be a serious chef here."
"A very serious chef," I agree, kissing him again, this time on the side of his neck. He tilts his head to give me better access, and I feel the vibration of his hum against my lips.
He finishes with the steak and turns in my arms, his hands resting on my hips. "You're distracting me," he whispers, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Good," I whisper back, and then I press my mouth to his in a soft, sweet kiss.
A low, rumbling chuckle from the doorway makes us both jump.
We break apart, turning to see Cass standing against the doorframe with most of his weight on his cane. He's wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts, his chest bare and his salt-and-pepper hair a wild mess. He looks tired, but his eyes are warm with amusement as he looks at us.
