Page 143 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

“Do it,” she urged, reading the apprehension in his features. Her hands clawed at his back, and finally, with a groan that she felt in her bones, he rolled his hips into her harder. His knot caught at her opening, stretching her to the point of discomfort, but only for a split second before he was inside.

Lyric whined as he stopped her from moving with his hands on her hips, pinning her to the mattress, trapping her on his knot. He slid a hand to her core, swiped his thumb over her clit, and sent her reeling.

That was all she needed. She tumbled over the edge, pleasure bursting inside her and tightening her around him. It was different than anything she’d ever felt before—since she’d never been knotted before.

God, had she been missing out.

Pleasure tumbled all around her, a kaleidoscope of colors and senses until she lost herself in it. And just when her senses were coming to her, just when she was catching her breath, Henry would roll his hips into her, pressing his knot inside her in a slightly different way, and it would set her off again.

“Henry,” she whined, dragging out his name in a desperate plea.

She’d wanted to hear her name on his lips like that, not the other way around.

“Jerk,” she teased once she caught her breath, once the room quit spinning enough for her to focus on the alpha at the center of her ecstasy.

Henry chuckled, his chest bouncing beneath her cheek—and when had he flipped them over? When had she collapsed against him in a drug-like stupor?

Lyric grumbled affectionately, nipped at his skin before the glint of his piercings caught her eye. With a mischievous grin, Lyric wrapped her lips around one of his nipples and tugged at the barbell as gently as possible, but Henry’s hips jerked up into her at the motion, which sent his knot shifting around inside her. It was a cycle that ended with her calling out his name at the same time he finally—blissfully—shouted hers.

“Lyric,” he groaned, the sound deep and dangerous and intoxicating just like the alpha himself.

His hips ground into hers, and he pulled her down onto him. She felt every pulse of him inside her, his knot throbbing with each release.

It sent off another round of fireworks inside her, and Lyric dragged her lips across his skin as she tried to catch her breath.

“Finally,” she breathed, resting her head against his pec.

“Finally what?” he asked a long, long moment later.

“I wanted to hear you say my name like that,” she admitted.

He stroked a hand through her hair, combing the damp strands over her shoulder to cascade over the both of them. “All you had to do was ask.”

Lyric tightened herself around him, pulling another curse from him on purpose, but it backfired.

“Are you trying to test me?” he growled dangerously.

Lyric propped her head on his chest and stared up at him, his knot still full and totally capable of wrecking her.

“What if I am?”

“I’ll try not to make you regret it.”

Lyric gasped as he rolled them back over, stirring himself deep within her.

He tried all right.

Despite the easy atmosphere on the bus, the interview haunted her for the next few days.

No, not the interview itself. Her own worries, insecurities. She must have blocked them subconsciously, but all it took was imagining what he must have thought of her—a weak, poor little omega—and her teeth were grinding together in frustration.

She hadn’t worked so fucking hard to be seen as nothing more than an omega. No update had been provided by the magazine, and it would probably be weeks before the interview ever saw the light of day.

Am I really going to stress over that interview until it comes out?

Lyric sighed, exhaling the smoke she’d pulled into her lungs from the pipe Desi had passed to her.

“You’ve been stressed, hit it again,” Desi chided, lifting her hands away when Lyric tried to pass it back to her.