Page 124 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

His lips bruised hers as he lowered his head and took her mouth. This time it wasn’t a simple touch, a taste. He devoured her, and she parted her lips beneath his.

After being surrounded by Henry… his touch, his scent, him for over an hour… she couldn’t take it anymore. Not after his palm warmed her thigh just long enough to heat her skin before he would shift, dragging his touch a centimeter in another direction. The heat spread out from that one point of contact to warm her entire body.

They were like two puzzle pieces, him between her legs, she between his. She wanted to shift her foot forward, see if she could tease him, feel that bulge she hoped was all for her.

But she was good. Or she had tried to be. And she thought she’d succeed too, until she realized the moment she’d been hoping for was going to slip away.

Henry wasn’t going to make a move. He was going to resist, even if it killed him. Lyric wished she had that resolve, and part of her knew she should follow his lead, ignore the throb of need that pulsed between her thighs, but…

She couldn’t.

But more importantly… she didn’t want to.

Her thigh was aflame from the abuse it’d taken in the past hour, but a totally different heat engulfed her. It made the grip she had on his neck turn sharp, her nails digging into his skin as she pulled him closer. His hands framed her hips and he pulled her into him. She ignored the sting of pain from her tattoo and dropped her hold from his neck to fist his shirt.

He groaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating against her lips. She whimpered as he leaned down, palmed the back of her upper thighs, and lifted her to sit on the same table she’d spent the last hour on.

“Dammit, Lyric. I’ve been envisioning this for the last hour.”

“Just the last hour?” she teased.

She’d had similar thoughts for the past few weeks. Not just hours.

Lyric nipped at his neck, drawing in a deep breath of his scent. Spice and musk and everything alpha.

“What cologne are you wearing?” The words came out before she realized she was asking them.

He stiffened beneath her touch, and Lyric drew back, her gaze rising to meet his, and she winced under the weight of his stare. At first, just curiosity, then realization. “I take it you really did stop taking your suppressants?”

Lyric nodded, his scent swarming her.

“Without your suppressants, I think your sense of smell is strengthening.”

“Oh...” She had been so damned concerned about the others, it hadn’t even crossed her mind how else the suppressants would affect her.

Had Henry’s scent always been this delicious? How was she supposed to resist him now?

“Is that a problem?” she asked, or dared, or—something. She just knew Henry was a challenge and she wanted to rise to the occasion.

He barked out a laugh. “No one talks to me like you do.”

Lyric’s first instinct was to shrink under his observation, but she stomped it down and shrugged.

“I can take care of myself just fine. Have been doing it for years before you came along. Sorry if you feel unneeded.”

“My job is far from obsolete. You’re trouble, Lyric,” he growled.

She smirked and patted his chest, staring up at his hazel eyes. “Good. Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes and make sure you stay in line.”

Lyric shook her head before she turned and stepped around the table. She intended to retreat to her nest, and lament over how stupid she was to think…

Henry grabbed her hand, tugging her around to face him as he pushed her backwards a single step. Her back nudged the wall, and Henry cupped one hand around the back of her head so she didn’t bump it, and planted the other next to her head as he stared down at her. He towered over her, his gaze deep and burning.

“If anyone needs help staying in line, it’s you,” he rumbled. Threatened. Promised.

She wasn’t quite sure what it was supposed to be, but in the next second, she didn’t even care because he tightened his hand around the back of her neck and swooped down, claiming her lips with his.

A moan slipped out as his warmth surrounded her, and her hands landed on his chest reflexively, intending to push him away. Instead, her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as he pulled and sipped from her lips. He swiped his tongue over the seam, and she opened to him as naturally as if they’d done this a thousand times.