Page 63 of Captivated By Alphas 1, Fated (The Blood Moon Chronicle #4)

The coastal road wound higher with each turn, which would have been fine except Cole was apparently auditioning for Formula One and kept sending me sliding into Jace’s very solid, very warm body.

Not that I was complaining. Okay, I was definitely not complaining, which was probably a problem I should examine later. Much later. Maybe never.

“Careful with those turns, Cole,” Adrian said, though his tone suggested he was enjoying the show more than actually concerned about my safety. His arm slid around my shoulders with the casual ease of someone claiming territory. “Unless you’re trying to land our little snow kitten in Jace’s lap?”

“Wouldn’t mind,” Jace murmured, his hand settling on my knee with casual possession that made my brain cells start filing for early retirement. His thumb traced small circles just above my kneecap, and I was pretty sure my nervous system was about to short-circuit.

“I’m not going to end up in anyone’s lap,” I protested, trying to maintain some dignity despite how my body was already betraying me by leaning into their touch. “And I’m definitely not a kitten. Kittens are cute and helpless. I’m more of a… I don’t know. Something with more attitude.”

“A snow leopard, perhaps?” Adrian suggested, his nose brushing the sensitive spot behind my ear in a way that made my entire nervous system forget how to function properly.

A shiver raced down my spine at the contact. Apparently, I had zero control over my physical reactions around these men. Jace noticed immediately—of course he did—his hand sliding slightly higher on my thigh in response.

“Cold?” he asked innocently, though his eyes held nothing but wicked heat as they locked with mine.

“I’m fine,” I managed, my voice embarrassingly breathy. “The temperature’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. Nothing wrong with the temperature at all.”

Oh God, I was rambling. When did I become the type to ramble? Right around the time three gorgeous men decided to gang up on me in the back of a luxury car, apparently.

“Is it?” Adrian’s lips brushed my temple, lingering longer than necessary. “You feel a little… flushed.”

His free hand landed on my other thigh, effectively boxing me in with their touch. I was now officially trapped between two alpha predators who seemed determined to make me spontaneously combust through sheer proximity alone. This was fine. Everything was fine. Just a normal Tuesday night.

Something strange happened then—my spine straightened automatically before melting completely, my body going oddly pliant between them.

I was a marionette and they’d just found my strings.

My head tilted slightly, exposing my neck in a gesture I didn’t consciously choose to make but felt absolutely right in a way that bypassed all rational thought.

“That’s it,” Jace murmured, his voice rough with approval. “Just relax.”

Relax? Was he insane? How was I supposed to relax when every nerve ending in my body was currently staging a revolt?

When my skin felt too tight and my heart was doing gymnastics in my chest?

When I was apparently developing some kind of supernatural submission kink that made me want to bare my throat to alpha predators?

Cole took another curve faster than necessary, sending me sliding against Jace’s solid chest with the inevitability of gravity. His arm immediately wrapped around my waist, steadying me—and incidentally pulling me half onto his lap in a move that felt entirely too practiced to be accidental.

“Better?” he murmured, his lips so close to my ear that I could feel them brush the shell with each word.

“I wouldn’t be falling if your cousin wasn’t driving like we’re in the Fast and Furious franchise,” I pointed out, trying to shift back to my seat only to find Adrian had moved closer, eliminating any space between us.

“Seriously, Cole, what’s the rush? Are we being chased by international criminals?

Did someone put a bomb on the car that will explode if we go under fifty? ”

“Maybe he just wants to get you somewhere private,” Adrian suggested, his fingers finding the hem of my shirt and slipping beneath to trace patterns on the small of my back. “We all do.”

The contact of skin on skin made me jump, my pulse skyrocketing. “Private for what, exactly?” I asked, then immediately regretted it when all three gave me identical heated looks that made me feel transparent.

“Use your imagination,” Jace’s hand, still on my thigh, slid incrementally higher in a move that made me hyperaware of every nerve ending in my body. “I’m sure it’s very… creative.”

His other hand found my chin, tilting my face toward his with gentle but unmistakable authority. “Where we can take our time.”

“Time for what?” I whispered, even though I was pretty sure I knew the answer and it involved significantly less clothing than we were currently wearing.

His thumb brushed across my lower lip, the simple touch sending electricity racing through me. My lips parted instinctively—apparently my body had its own ideas about appropriate responses—and his eyes darkened as he tracked the movement with predatory focus.

“Already so responsive,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to my mouth with unmistakable intent. “So perfect.”

“I’m not—” I started to protest, but Adrian chose that moment to press his lips to the nape of my neck, the contact so light I might have imagined it if not for the way my entire body shuddered in response.

“He likes that,” Adrian observed, his lips moving against my skin as he spoke in a way that sent vibrations straight through me. “Feel how he trembles?”

“I’m not trembling,” I lied, even as another shiver raced through me when his teeth grazed the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder. “It’s just… cold. Very cold in here. Practically arctic.”

“No?” Jace’s thumb continued its maddening exploration of my lower lip, dipping slightly into my mouth before withdrawing in a move that made my brain cells commit mass suicide. “Then why is your pulse racing so fast I can see it here?”

His other hand left my thigh to brush against the side of my neck, right over my hammering pulse point. Great. So much for playing it cool.

Cole’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, flashing gold for a split second in a way that should have been impossible but somehow wasn’t. “His scent is changing,” he said, his voice rougher than usual. “Sweeter. Hotter.”

Wait, what? “My scent?” I squeaked, my voice going embarrassingly high. “What do you mean my scent? Do I smell bad? Oh God, do I need deodorant?”

“Definitely hotter,” Adrian agreed, his hand sliding around to my stomach, fingers splayed wide across my abdomen. “Perfect.”

Jace leaned closer, his nose tracing a line from my temple to my jaw, inhaling deeply in a way that felt primal and possessive. “Perfect,” he murmured, his lips brushing the corner of my mouth. “Absolutely perfect.”

Okay, so apparently the Carmichael men had a thing for sniffing people. That was… actually kind of hot, which probably said disturbing things about my psychological state. I should be concerned about this development. I should definitely be asking questions about the whole scent thing.

Instead, I found myself turning my head slightly, drawn by some instinct I couldn’t name, until I was a breath away from Jace’s mouth. His eyes locked with mine, pupils dilated with hunger, a thin ring of gold circling the blue that definitely hadn’t been there before.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his thumb still tracing my lower lip with maddening precision. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

I opened my mouth to do exactly that—to be sensible, to point out that this was crazy, that three cousins sharing one guy wasn’t exactly a normal dating arrangement.

But the protest wouldn’t come. The truth was, I did want this.

Wanted him. Wanted all of them, with an intensity that should have terrified me but instead felt inevitable.

“I—” I started, then stopped, my throat tilting upward of its own accord in that weird submission thing again. “I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” he asked, though his satisfied expression suggested he already knew.

“Can’t tell you to stop,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, and then his mouth was on mine.

Holy. Fucking. Hell.

This wasn’t some cute first kiss from a rom-com. This was Jace Carmichael claiming my mouth like he owned it—which, let’s be honest, he pretty much did the second his lips touched mine. My brain cells immediately filed for unemployment and left the building.

His lips moved against mine with the confidence of someone who’d probably kissed actual supermodels. Meanwhile, I was trying not to hyperventilate or make weird noises or—oh God, his tongue was in my mouth and I was definitely making weird noises.

I gasped—smooth, Harper, real smooth—and he took that as an invitation to completely invade my personal space. Not that I was complaining. His tongue swept past my lips, tasting me like I was some kind of fine wine he was cataloging for future reference.

Wine and cinnamon exploded across my tongue, but underneath was something else.

Something wild that made my head spin and my knees forget how to function properly.

My hands flew to his shoulders because apparently I needed something to hold on to before I melted into a puddle of hormones and bad decisions.

This was… Jesus, this was like being kissed by a force of nature. An extremely hot, extremely skilled force of nature who apparently had a PhD in making people lose their minds through lip contact alone.

His teeth caught my lower lip—not gently, oh no, that would be too easy. Hard enough to make me whimper into his mouth like some kind of… I don’t know, what makes whimpering sounds? Puppies? Was I a puppy now? Great. Add that to my growing list of confusing sexual discoveries.