Page 60 of Knot what I want for Christmas
“Oh yeah, what’s that?”
He strokes his fingers along the gusset of my panties. I’m evenmoresensitive there and I jolt against his touch.
“I think you know,” he murmurs, his voice now low and husky. He traces the outline of my panties with his fingertips. “You want me to stop, Hollie?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Thank fuck for that.” He groans and then he’s hooking his fingers into the waistband of my panties and sliding them down my legs.
I’m sitting in front of a kneeling alpha with my pussy completely exposed to him and I’m not sure even my wildest fantasies have quite lived up to this.
He pushes against my knees, encouraging me to open my legs and then he stares right between them. You’d think I’d be cringing with embarrassment – usually I would be – but the look on his face is full of admiration, as if he’s gazing upon some amazing piece of artwork, and it’s a massive turn on. I can feel myself getting wet.
“Look at you slicking, Omega. Is that for me?”
“It’s because of you,” I mutter, my heart pounding with the anticipation of what he’s going to do next.
“You have such a pretty pussy? Especially when it’s all needy and desperate like this.”
I bite my lip so hard, I’m surprised I don’t draw blood. He strokes his hands all the way up my legs one last time and sweeps his thumb through my wet folds.
“You’re dripping,” he groans, examining his digit covered in my slick. “I have to taste you.” And then he’s leaning forward and dragging his tongue over me, swirling his tongue around my clit. The sensation is so intense it has me groaning too and gripping the arms of the chair, my head tipping backwards and my legs already shaking.
“You like that?”
“A lot,” I whimper. It’s been a long time since anyone’s touched me intimately and to be honest, none of the men I was with before were any good at this. They were sloppy or lazy or just pretty lost, unable to tell where a knee cap started and a clitoris ended despite my best attempts at instructing them.
I can already tell that with Tucker Parker this won’t be a problem. He needs no instructions at all. The way he’s circling my clit in an achingly, teasing manner is too good for words. It has all the blood in my body rushing to my pussy and every nerve end tingling, waiting, hoping he’s going to give me more.
He moans against me and that has me jolting, seriously close to the edge from just these simplest of attentions.
“You taste so delicious, Hollie. A million times better than I imagined. I could sit here and eat you out all day and all night.”
He drags his tongue through my folds a second time, slurping all the slick that’s gushing from my pussy up into his mouth and ending with a hard flick of my clit that has me seeing stars. Then he really goes to town, French kissing my pussy, sucking me up into his mouth before delivering devastating flicks to my clit.
I fall apart, everything inside me – all that tension, all that worry, all that grief – coming undone. I whine. I whimper. I curse. I thrash about on the chair, desperate to grind my pussy right into his wicked mouth. He’s forced to hold me still with his firm grip, sending me right to the brink and then letting me free fall into ecstasy.
“Tucker!” I cry out as I come all over his face, way more messily than I ever have before. “Oh, God, Tucker!”
He doesn’t stop. He flicks, licks and slurps me right through my orgasm and straight into a second until I’m begging him to stop because I don’t think I can take any more, tears rolling down my cheeks and my body covered in a fine layer of sweat.
He rocks back on his heels, peering up at me with one of those heart-stopping smiles, my mess smeared all over his mouth and his chin.
“Warm again now, sweetheart?” he asks me.
I’m about to tell him that was the hottest experience of my life, when the cabin door swings open and Clay and Nash come marching through, stopping dead in their tracks when they spotTucker kneeling in front of my bare pussy, the perfume of my slick thick in the air.
Chapter Twenty-One
Clay
I’ve never seen anything so mind-blowingly hot as my packmate – my oldest friend – kneeling between the bare thighs of Hollie Bright. My brain malfunctions. My cock stiffens. And for a moment I forget all my responsibilities and reservations. I think I almost forget my own name.
That is until Tucker stumbles to his feet, his mouth and his chin shiny with– is that slick? – looking suitably sheepish.
“What the hell is going on?” I snap.
“I know it’s been a while since you’ve been with a woman–”
