by Kole, Lana
The beep from the lock on their room door intruded into his thoughts, and Adra was so distracted he didn’t even think about holding the door for Lyric. Thankfully Emerson took over that job, and as Adra slid past him, he tried to read his damned mind through his gaze.
It didn’t work.
Lyric stalled out in the middle of their room, the two full beds seeming awfully small when there were three of them in the space. Adra kept walking, placing the ice on the dresser in front of the beds, which housed the television.
When he turned back around, Lyric was standing in the same place while Emerson locked the door.
Her gaze was fastened on him, and Adra licked his suddenly dry lips.
She tracked the movement, mirroring it a second later, and that tiny tell was what made him approach her.
When she’d surprised him right out of the shower that morning, it had only made it harder to ignore the constant need that thrummed through him.
Adra wanted her.
He had harbored a tiny, hopeful but useless crush on her long before he ever met her. Had never imagined he’d actually get chosen for the tour. Never in a million years had he seen this coming, but now that he was here, standing before her with the promise of everything he’d ever wanted just inches away from him, he hoped with his entire being that she—
Lyric nodded. “Kiss me before I change my mind.”
She didn’t have to ask him twice. Adra cupped her face, her skin impossibly soft against his palm, and he lowered his head, brushing their lips together softly once, twice, and a third time before he slotted their lips together.
The sweetest hum vibrated into their kiss from her, and she parted her lips beneath his.
It was just a single kiss, but it had the power to bring him to his knees. Adra had almost forgotten… he’d grown accustomed to Emerson’s harshness. The bristles of his stubble, the hard planes of his body, the sharpness of his jaw.
Lyric was everything but harsh. She was soft, and her kiss, at first, brushed against his lips like a butterfly’s wing—light, barely there, possibly a figment of his imagination.
But it was no dream, not as she inched closer, placing her palms on his chest. At her touch, Adra noticed another striking difference: how small she was.
He could scoop her up and cradle her to his chest. He could engulf her in his arms and never let go.
Having her right in front of him, her smaller hands placed on his chest, her face cradled in his palm, it hit him how… precious she was.
I should treasure this.
“Adra might give in so easily, but I won’t. Not before you beg for it,” Emerson taunted from nearby.
Adra lifted his head, parting his lips from Lyric’s. He registered the blissed-out look on her face before he turned his head to Emerson. His gaze followed at the last second, stamping the image of her glossy lips and hooded eyes to memory.
He glared at Emerson.
“No. We’re not turning this into some game,” Adra argued.
Lyric was so headstrong, so adamant about not needing anyone, he didn’t want her to look back on this moment and think of herself as weak, or as someone who had to beg. Not when she had the power to utterly destroy him.
Them.
Because Emerson was just as lost as Adra was.
He knew it too, and agreed only a moment later after studying the conviction in Adra’s gaze.
With a soft nod, he circled around to Lyric’s back, staring up at Adra as he pressed his lips to her neck for a featherlight kiss. Her pulse jumped in her throat, as if eager to meet him.
“Fine, no games,” he muttered. “That alright with you, Lyric?”
“Mm-hmm. Yes. Yup,” she agreed, each eager affirmation like a crash into the door of his resolve. She leaned back into Emerson and stretched her arm out, gently clawing her fingers into his shirt to pull Adra forward too. But over her shoulder, Emerson dipped his chin, his gaze sliding past Adra to focus on something in the direction of the far wall.
The ice bucket.
So he’d been harboring the same idea Adra had in the hallway. This moment mirrored many of the fantasies he’d recently entertained for a brief period of time before guilt would sneak up on him. This time there was no guilt, and a kind of giddiness burst in his stomach. He’d almost call them butterflies.
He didn’t get butterflies often. At least not with Emerson. Usually they were too busy racing to the finish line, wrestling the pleasure out of one another.
But this was Lyric, and every part of him knew it.
It wasn’t a battle for dominance, it wasn’t a competition to see who could pleasure the other more.
It was a gift.
And Adra wasn’t one to squander something so rare.
He took both her hands in one, lowered them slowly, and stepped back. Her ocean eyes blinked open, questioning, before Emerson reached a hand around the front of her body, gripped her chin, and guided her lips to his. Adra backtracked carefully, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight of them together.
Watching their lips mold together and break apart again to make room for breaths reminded him that he’d barely tasted her.
Adra grabbed the ice bucket, plucked a shard from the pile, and slid it between his lips. He crunched it down to nothing by the time he reached Lyric again and placed his hand over Emerson’s to pull her face back to him.
She gasped softly at the contrast between Emerson’s warm lips and Adra’s kiss laced with the chill from the ice. When their mouths parted again for air, he pinched another chip of ice between two fingers and traced it over the shape of her lips. It melted slowly, and a flash of her tongue caught some of the drops, but a few dripped down her chin to splash against her shirt. The fabric darkened as the water sank in.
He let Lyric suck the ice inside, waited until she’d crushed the ice between her teeth, and watched her swallow before he dipped back down. Now her lips were chilled, but so soft beneath his own.
Her taste was sweeter than he imagined. He’d grown used to her honey sweet scent, a cloud of it drifting into the bus every time she opened her door.
But that was nothing compared to the full, raw, unfiltered taste of her kiss. He wanted to nuzzle into her neck, draw it deep into his lungs so maybe the honey would stick and the lavender would thread between his ribs. He wanted her everywhere. Surrounding him, suffocating him.
Emerson pulled her away, and their gazes met over her head. Adra knew they were on the same page, and Lyric was right there with them.
She dragged Adra’s hands to her hips, slid them under her shirt, and stared up at him.
As her hands fell away, he caressed her bare skin, slipping them up to feel more of her. His fingers were chilled from touching the ice, and her belly concaved beneath his light touch.
He shifted closer, sharing his warmth with her.
“This is most definitely not the bus,” Emerson murmured.
“Rules don’t apply here,” Lyric whispered, turning her head toward Emerson.
As their lips met, Adra wanted to taste more of her. He leaned in, pressed his lips against her neck, and breathed in her scent. Muted still, but thickening in the air more with each passing moment.
He glided his lips along her flesh, feeling the dull throb of her pulse in her neck. He wanted her pulse to race, wanted to feel it beat against her skin in the same chaotic dance his heart did every time he was near her.
Emerson’s hands overlapped with his, and together they lifted the shirt over her head. He removed his lips from her skin long enough to slip the fabric past, and then he tasted her again. She was so warm and soft and perfect, he wanted to see the rest of her too, but he didn’t want to overwhelm her.
This time she was playing with two alphas, not just one.
Once the shirt was out of the way, Emerson disappeared, and Lyric turned to track him across the room. Ice clanked in the bucket, and Adra’s lips twitched as humor tickled his cheek. Lyric’s skin broke out in gooseb
umps, and he glanced up.
“Cold?” he asked. She shrugged, a noncommittal answer, and his smile widened. “Let’s warm you up.”
A high-pitched gasp snuck out of her as he banded his arms around her thighs just under her ass and lifted up. She fell into him, her breasts pressed hard against his chest, and he carried her to the bed. He gently released her to fall into the mattress, and the way her breasts swayed with the sudden motion was magnetic.
He followed her down to the mattress, kissed first her lips, which moved against his so sweetly, before he trailed his kisses lower. Across her collarbones, where he nipped at her until a gasp reached his ears. Her hands tightened on his shoulders before she pushed him lower, and he hid his smile against her skin before he wrapped his lips around a pert, pink nipple.
Lyric’s hum sounded as sweet as all the music she’d composed, and he swiped his tongue across the hard peak before releasing it with a pop.
He jerked as something cold touched the back of his neck and slipped around his throat before landing on Lyric’s chest. An ice cube.
Adra didn’t bother giving Emerson a second glance, at least not yet, and swiped the cube up between his lips before leading the cold peak to Lyric’s breast. Cold chills were spreading across her body, tightening the pink tips even more.
She groaned, half complaint, half plea for more.
“I thought you said you’d warm me up,” she said, voice raspy.
“Working on it,” Emerson answered for him, since his lips were busy, once again wrapped around her nipple. He tweaked the other between thumb and forefinger, and her back arched beneath him, asking for more without speaking a word.
The bed dipped beside him, and he slid to the right to make room for Emerson. Lyric’s gasp echoed around the room as they framed her body with theirs.
Feeling Emerson’s heat right next to him, and Lyric’s heat beneath him, was almost too much. But it was the promise of more that made his cock throb.
Emerson snared him in that steel gaze, before they mirrored one another and tasted her at the same time. Lyric’s palm brushed over the back of his head, holding him to her. While Emerson teased her, Adra took the opportunity to drift lower. He wanted her breathless and panting beneath them, and he wanted to be the cause of it, wanted to take her higher than ever before, and be there to catch her at the bottom.
Adra painted his reverence along her flesh, taking the same care as he would if she were a blank canvas.
A blank canvas that would look even more perfect with a few… imperfections. Like bite marks.
Adra’s heart pounded in his chest, but he pushed the thought aside and tried to pretend like it hadn’t crossed his mind in the first place. Instead, he buried the thought like he wanted to bury his head between Lyric’s thighs. The lower he moved, the stronger her scent became, until he felt he might as well have been wading through a pool of honey.
He trailed his lips along the waistband of her pants, slipping his fingers under the edge and pulling. She lifted her hips, shimmying them to help him get the fabric out of the way. Once they sailed off the side of the bed, Adra took a breath to steady himself, but that in itself was a mistake.
Honey. Lavender. Heaven.
Lyric’s scent filled his senses and overwhelmed him in the best way. It made his mouth water with the desire to taste her. His gaze lifted north, catching her ocean gaze, half lidded with need and shadowed with uncertainty.
This was unchartered waters for him and Lyric.
He’d just have to make sure they stayed afloat.
Lyric gasped with need as Emerson’s lips wrapped around her other nipple. Her gaze was locked on Adra, but all of her attention was centered on the need between her thighs, the pleasure arching from one nerve ending to the next as their hands roamed the expanse of her bare skin.
So lost in her haze, Lyric failed to recognize Emerson’s movements until the burning cold sensation of the ice met her skin again, this time lower, below her breast. It trailed south, and Lyric’s stomach concaved beneath the cold, her chest heaving with a gasp before she held her breath.
It melted against her warm skin, tiny rivulets of water streaking down her stomach before dripping over the sides. Chills burst across her body, and she moaned as Emerson passed the ice cube to Adra before the bucket clinked as he grabbed another.
Adra chased the damp lines with his tongue, warming her up where she’d been frozen just a second before. But what followed was just another war of cold and warmth as the cubes traced shapes all over her stomach, thighs, and breasts.
It dipped down her sides and between her thighs, until Lyric was digging her fingernails into Emerson’s neck and Adra’s shoulder.
“Please,” she begged breathlessly. She didn’t even know what she was asking for, but knew she just needed them to do more.
Adra’s hand, flat against her thigh as he traced a trail of cold water, tightened around her once.
“Okay,” he answered softly. His hand trailed to the left, gripping the inside of her thigh, so close to where she wanted him—needed him.
Lyric pressed her thigh against his touch, widening her legs, opening herself to him.
It was fucking poetic.
She’d battled with her own needs, her own wants, just like the hot and cold, until she was ready for Emerson. For Adra.
Because she knew, somewhere beneath the carnal need, that this was just their beginning.
As if Adra had watched her finally come to that conclusion, he let the teasing melt away with the last of the ice. As the rivulets dried on her skin, it was from the heat he created within her. With each light kiss of Adra’s lips, every gentle touch of Em’s fingers, it fanned hotter, burned brighter, until he finally tasted her. His hum of pleasure vibrated against her and pulled a moan from her throat, one that Emerson leaned up and swallowed.
And so it went. Adra would pull more moans from her just to feed Emerson, and her own pleasure built into the brightest crescendo until, with a swipe of Adra’s tongue and a press of his fingers, he brought her to a blinding orgasm. Em swallowed her cries and gasps, and Adra brought her down slowly.
Once she blinked her eyes open, she reached for Adra, wanting to taste herself on his lips, knowing it was him who was there with her at the bottom where she’d fallen so recklessly from the crest.
His warmth blanketed her, and Emerson slid from the bed, though to do what she didn’t care, not in that moment, not as her thoughts were slowly stringing themselves together again, more with each kiss.
His lips were full and warm and wet from her, and the thought itself made her squeeze her thighs around his hips. His erection pressed against her, the heat and pressure intoxicating even after her first orgasm. Of course she wanted more.
Lyric wouldn’t be content with just a taste, just a tease. She wanted everything, every part of him.
She dropped her hands to his waistband, feeling the flat, strong expanse of his stomach before she shoved at his boxers.
Their lips parted slowly, a line of saliva connecting them, and Lyric wet her lips to break it.
“Please,” she begged.
She was past the point of caring. She wanted the emptiness in her filled, she wanted to be full, wanted Adra to be the one to do it.
Once his boxers were gone, Lyric wrapped her hand around him and hummed, his hot length filling her palm, the girth so much more than she’d ever had before. Even Emerson wasn’t as thick, but they were about the same length.
His hips jerked into her hand as she tightened her grasp around him, stroking and spreading the precum leaking from the tip. It coated her hand and made the glide so much easier, and knowing it was her, that she was affecting him that way, was an aphrodisiac in itself.
She studied him, taking in every bit of him. What a god damned sight.
He towered over her, tall and broad and intimidating—or he would be if Lyric didn’t know what a softie he was.
But soft was only metaphorical as he le
aned back down, framed her head with his palms planted on the bed, and rolled his hips against her. Lyric canted up into him, his hard length sliding between her thighs. The glide was slick with her previous orgasm, but she still wanted more. Wanted him to take her even higher.
She reached down, notched him at her core, and gasped as he slowly pushed his way in. He went so slowly it was agonizing. Pausing every few miniscule thrusts to make sure she was alright, and Lyric would pant and whine affirmations against his lips as he leaned down to taste them right from her tongue.
Lyric groaned with frustration, grabbed his hips, and waited for his gentle thrust before she rolled her hips up at the same time. It sent him deeper, and she cried out as he finally filled her totally.
Adra murmured something close to her ear, but she didn’t catch it, not as he began moving. Each thrust sent him so deep she didn’t know how it was possible. Her hands turned to claws, leaving marks in his shoulders and along his sides as she moaned.
Adra leaned down, silenced her gasp with a kiss, and then paused a few inches away. “I love having all of your attention, but I think Emerson is feeling a little left out.”
Lyric tilted her head back, eyed Em upside down, and then brought her head back to level.
“We can’t have that, can we?”
Adra smirked, an unusual look on her soft alpha, but one she didn’t mind. He leaned up, and Lyric almost let a whine loose at the sensation of him slipping free of her, but she choked it back as Adra gripped her hips and helped her flip over. The bed sank beneath her hands and knees, and she arched her back, shifting backwards until she felt Adra’s warmth cradle her hips.
The blunt head of his cock pressed at her entrance, and her eyes drifted closed as he sank inside once more.
A soft breath against her face made her eyes open again, and she came face to face with Emerson. “Kiss,” she breathed, and he smashed his lips to hers.
Emerson tasted dangerous, like standing outside during a thunderstorm and just waiting for the lightning to strike. While their lips met, slid against each other, and shared their taste, Adra was slowly filling her. He stole her breath in a different way from the hungry kisses Emerson was feeding her, and when his hips struck against her ass, she broke away from Emerson with a gasp.