Page 87 of Daisy
"Not to ourselves. But you make us believe it."
The air between us crackles. Charged. Dangerous. I can smell my own need spiking, sharp and sweet despite those pills. Honeysuckle and vanilla turning rich and musky with need.August's pupils blow wide, and his scent deepens in response, his warm scent going darker, more possessive.
"Daisy." My name sounds wrecked on his lips.
The pasta water bubbles behind us, but I can't focus on anything except how August is looking at me. Like I'm precious. Chosen.
"August?"
"Yeah?"
I take a shaky breath, heat flooding my cheeks. "Are you... are you only into guys?"
He smiles softly, that gentle understanding in his eyes. "No, sunshine. Cassian and I... we both love who we love, regardless of gender." His voice is warm, patient. "And we've both been feeling something for you. Something real."
Relief washes through me. "Oh." I pause, gathering courage. "Then... I want to kiss you."
His breath hitches, and his scent deepens with want. "I've been hoping you'd say that."
When he kisses me, it's nothing like Gunner's sweet exploration. This is hunger. Desperation. August kisses like he's been thinking about it for weeks, like he's been holding back and finally snapped.
His lips are soft but demanding. When his tongue sweeps across my lower lip, I open for him with a sound that makes him groan. The kiss deepens, and I can taste mint and something purely him.
My body responds instantly. Desire flooding my system, suppressants or not. Slick soaking through my underwear in a way that should embarrass me but doesn't. August makes a low rumbling sound that vibrates through his chest, not quite an alpha purr but something deeper.
When we break apart, we're both wrecked. His pupils are blown, and I can smell his need mixing with mine in the mostintoxicating way. Something thick and musky that makes my omega instincts practically purr with satisfaction. I can see the outline of his hardness through his jeans, and the knowledge that I did that to him makes more slick pool between my thighs.
We stand there for a moment, just breathing each other in. His forehead rests against mine, and I can still taste him on my lips. Mint and something purely August that I want to memorize.
"That was perfect," I whisper.
"It was." His thumb strokes my cheek, so gentle it makes my chest ache. "How do you feel?"
I think about it, surprised by the answer that comes. "Like I want more. Like I'm ready for more."
The certainty in my own voice catches me off guard. A few weeks ago, I was terrified of my own shadow. Now I'm asking for things I want. Choosing what feels right.
"More of this?" August asks softly, his other hand coming up to frame my face.
"More of everything." The words feel brave and terrifying and absolutely true. "I want to understand what this could be. All of it."
Behind us, the pasta water boils over.
"Oh no." August turns to deal with the mess, but he's grinning.
I watch him move around the small kitchen. Efficient and calm even while cleaning up. But I can smell the lingering arousal in his scent, see the flush in his cheeks. The way he keeps adjusting himself when he thinks I'm not looking. The knowledge that I affected him that much makes something low in my belly throb with want.
"August?"
"Mmm?" He's dumping pasta into the pot, focused.
My face burns, but I push through. I'm allowed to be curious. I'm allowed to ask. "Can I ask you something? You read a lot of books..."
He glances at me, eyebrows raised. "Shoot."
How do I even say this? "Is it normal to feel this strongly about alphas? I mean..." I fidget with the hem of my sweater. "Every alpha I ever met before you all made me want to run. Made my skin crawl. But you and the others..." I trail off, embarrassed.
"But we don't," he says gently, understanding immediately.
