Page 66 of Knot what I want for Christmas
His knot locks firmly into my pussy.
It’s so intense. For a moment, my vision whites, all the noise in my head stops. All I am is sensation. And the sensation right now is pleasurable. Every nerve end in my body must be singing, and I’m sure I’m floating somewhere near the ceiling, maybe somewhere altogether heavenly.
When finally my never-ending orgasm stops, I drag open my eyelids, the world blurry for several seconds until Clay Jackson’s handsome face finally comes into focus. He’s watching me with those sky-blue eyes of his, so dreamy. I think they’re the thing about him I like most. Well… maybe notthemost. His cock and his knot are most definitely my favorite parts of the man built like an adonis.
“Good?” he asks me.
“So good,” I mutter. “Please do that to me again and again and again. In fact, never stop doing that to me.”
He chuckles. “You’re going to have to wait a little bit of time for my knot to deflate before I can do that again, Omega. You’re not in heat, and I’m not in rut.”
The mention of those two words – loaded as they are – has both of us shuddering, and he growls, lowering his head to suck on my neck and sending me into more clouds of bliss.
I’ve never shared a heat with an alpha before, I’ve never wanted to. Now I most definitely want to share it with him. I’m just not sure how to ask. Because we haven’t establishedwhat this is. Is it just a one-time thing? A holiday hook-up? A Christmas fling?
“I bet you’re beautiful in heat, Omega.”
“I am most certainly not,” I tell him. “I’m a sweaty, sticky, disgusting mess.”
“That sounds frankly amazing.”
And I giggle as he rolls us onto our sides, shifting me until I’m comfortably curled up against his chest, his cock still knotted securely in my pussy. I could easily drift off to sleep now – sedated, content, and thoroughly well fucked.
But there’s a firm and rather insistent knock on the door before my eyes have fluttered shut.
“I think my pack mates may have lost patience with me, Hollie,” Clay admits, tickling his fingers up and down my bare back.
For a moment, lost in Clay Jackson’s arms and all the delicious things he was doing, I’d forgotten about the two hot pack mates. But now I get a whiff of their scents, and something stirs inside me.
“Can we let them in?” I ask Clay.
“That’s up to you.”
I shuffle in his arms, bringing the bed sheet up over my body because I’m a little shy and a little nervous. But I want this. I want this a lot.
Clay is correct. I’m an omega. I was designed for a pack. One alpha is frankly not enough. So I remember what I told them about being tough. I need to live up to those words. I’m going to grow a pair of ovaries (a pair of ovaries that are more than happy with the current situation in which we find ourselves) and take what I want for Christmas. This pack.
“Come in,” I tell them.
The door flings back almost immediately and Tucker’s storming inside, Nash right on his heels.
I guess it’s been pretty obvious what Clay and I have been up to. I wasn’t exactly quiet. In fact, for the first time in my life, I was outrageously noisy during sex. Usually there’s a part of me that’s self-conscious – too aware, wondering how I look, how I sound, how I smell. But this time, I was too lost in the moment to care about any of that.
So I’m not surprised when Clay’s packmates spot the two of us in bed together, and neither of them look surprised by what they’ve found. In fact, if anything, they look pleased.
“You been having fun?” Tucker asks me with an incredibly sexy lopsided grin.
“Uh-huh.”
“Sounded like it,” he says. “And he knotted you?”
“He did,” I say.
“Your first time,” Nash says, sliding off his glasses and folding in his arms. “You realize now what you’ve been missing out on.”
“She wants me to knot her over and over again,” Clay says, with a fair bit of pride in his voice.
“Actually,” I correct him – which has disappointment momentarily shining in his eyes, “I’d likeallof you to knot me over and over again.”
