Page 35 of Outback Heat
“Fuck it, I’m going to take you right here and right now,” he growls, his hand reaching for his oversized belt buckle.
I scrunch my nose, looking around Ida’s kitchen. As much as I want him, I’d really rather not do it in an elderly lady’s kitchen.
Flashing him a wicked smile, I twist out of his grip. Without a second glance, I bolt down the hallway and out the door, letting it crash behind me as I fly out into the heat. I hear him make an indecent noise, though I don’t look back. I know if I don’t run fast enough, my Alpha has no qualms about rutting me in public. Adrenaline surges and I push my legs to pump faster and faster. The Johnsons’ house is just ahead, on the edge of town near the empty paddock that is used for the rodeo grounds where I first met my rowdy Alpha. The sound of Murphy’s boots clomp closer, pounding against the pavement in a steady lope.
“Chasing my Omega is only getting me harder – I hope you’re ready to face the consequences,” he growls loud enough for me to hear. I push myself a little faster, eager to meet these promised consequences, biting my lip to keep the blossoming smile from stretching across my cheeks.
The Johnsons’ place is a faded, weather-beaten blue house with a corrugated metal shed in the backyard. A rusty pickup sits on concrete blocks off to the side of the house, a thick coat of dust covering the surface of the windscreen. Just as I reach to grab the railing of the rickety front porch, Murphy slams against my back, sending me stumbling before his strong arms encircle and spin me around with a delighted growl. His grip is possessive, and I can feel his warmth seeping through my shirt as he holds onto me tighter than necessary.
“Gotcha,” he purrs against my ear and I shudder.
Murphy’s hand hovers on the tarnished brass doorknob and with a gentle push, the door swings open. We step onto hardwood floors that creak under our feet, and I follow Murphy further into the house. The narrow hallway feels like an eternity as my fingers slowly trace along the faded wallpaper.
Finally, we reach the kitchen. The walls are bare and there is no furniture at all.
“There’s a bedroom and a bathroom through that door.” Murphy points at a closed door.
“A bed would be good,” I say and bite my lip, looking up at him through my eyelashes.
He grips my hips and lifts me up, setting me on the kitchen countertop.
“This isn’t a bed!” I giggle as he leans in, claiming my mouth. I eagerly accept his kiss, putting my hands up around his neck and moaning softly at the feel of his rough stubble against my palms.
His hands move down, grasping my thighs and hiking them up around his waist. My body is already buzzing with need and I can’t help but rock my hips forward, seeking contact with his erection.
Murphy pulls away from me, and I whimper, leaning forward to chase his lips. He chuckles lowly and the rumbling shoots tingles through me.
“We don’t have any furniture yet but, trust me, we don’t need a bed for what I’m about to do to you.”
I gasp as he drops to his knees in front of me, and unceremoniously yanks my scrubs and underwear down my legs. The fabric catches around my boots and I kick my feet to help him remove them.
“I want you to fuck my face, Spitfire,” he growls. I make a strangled sound at the back of my throat born of need and desperation, and spread my legs eagerly.
His mouth latches onto my clit with unnerving accuracy and sucks hard without preamble. I throw my head back, letting out a groan as he continues to attack my clit. I grind my hips against his mouth, seeking relief. He brings me quickly to the edge and I feel my orgasm building in my lower belly.
My fingers find his hair, and I grip tight, holding his sinful mouth firmly against me.
“Yes, Alpha!”
“Come in my mouth, Omega.” It’s said in such a deep tone that’s more of a rumble than words. The vibration makes my eyelashes flutter. He sucks my clit in a rhythm that only takes two more pulses for my orgasm hits me hard.
“Murphy!”
I buck against his face, and he pins my hips to the countertop, slowing the pace of his tongue until he’s gently licking at my over-sensitised flesh. I sag back against the cabinetry and try to catch my breath.
He presses a gentle kiss on my pussy and then looks up at me with a smug smile. “That’s one.”
My eyes narrow at him, and he steps back. I move to slide off the counter, but he pushes me backwards, grasps my hips, and forcefully tugs me to perch on the edge.
He looks deep into my eyes, revelling in how needy I am for him. I watch him unfasten his belt and jeans, slipping them down his muscular legs.
I take in every inch of the body I’ve been daydreaming about – those sinful thick thighs, broad shoulders, and arms strong enough to lift me onto the countertop effortlessly. He’s all blond hair and blue eyes. My core clenches in protest and the empty feeling I’ve become accustomed to throbs. I lean back onto the cool countertop and spread my legs wider, letting him see how wet I am for him.
“I need you. Please, Murphy. Don’t make me wait any longer.”
“I fucking missed this pussy, Spitfire. Look how ready you are for me.” His low voice sends chills down my spine, and I clutch at his hands as they settle back on my hips.
In one long thrust, he’s inside me. I arch my back with a gasp. There! The constant empty ache within me is replaced with pleasure and relief makes my head spin.
