Page 63 of Knot what I want for Christmas
“You mean like this?” I flex one then the other, making them dance for her. Her eyes light up like a kid on Christmas day who’s just discovered their stocking’s been filled to the brim.And I feel exactly the same way when she reaches out to touch me – finally.
Her hands are warm, her touch tender. She glides her palms over my pecs and my abs skimming the waist of my pants and making me gasp. She doesn’t stop there. She sweeps her hands back up my body and over my shoulders, and then she’s walking around me, running her hands down my back. Here, she pauses, her fingertips exploring the scars that run down my spine.
“Is this from the accident?” she whispers, her voice serious now.
“From the surgery,” I explain.
She presses a kiss to the highest one – right at the base of my skull. “Does it hurt?” she asks.
I close my eyes.
Does it hurt?
Nobody’s asked me that in a long, long time.
They did at first, after the accident, after the surgery, during the long months of recovery and rehab. Then they stopped asking. I guess they just assumed – assumed because I was walking, riding, working again – that everything was the same as it had always been.
I consider lying to her but the situation feels too intimate for that.
“Yes,” I say, “especially when the weather’s cold like this.”
I sense her nod behind me. “Living with that kind of pain would be enough to make someone pretty irritable.”
“Grouchy, you mean,” I say, turning to face her and capturing her in my arms.
“Does anything help to ease it?” Her expression is so earnest.
“Being with you,” I murmur, “something about your scent seems to dissolve away the pain. Your kiss makes me forget it completely.”
Without another word, she reaches up on her toes again and kisses me, fumbling with my belt and buckle. I take over the task – dropping my pants and my boxers to the floor. I press her toward me, my cock – hot and sticky – rammed against her soft belly.
“I want to melt all your pain away,” she murmurs, kiss-drunk against my lips, “I want to make you feel so good … Alpha.”
She’s never called me that before – in all the time we’ve known each other, we’ve barely acknowledged what we are – but the way she says it now – forget short circuit – it freaking rewires my brain.
“Yes, Alpha,” I growl. “Your alpha.” At least for today.
Her pupils dilate and it’s clear what a good omega she is.
“I’m so tempted to have you ride me, Omega, and watch those perfect tits of yours bounce,” I mutter just as drunk on her and her scent as she is on me. “But I have this pressing need to fuck you, and fuck you hard.”
I step away to the bedside cabinet.
“Where … where are you going?” she says, almost in alarm as if she misses the proximity of my body already.
“Protection.”
“Oh,” I hear her swallow. “Do we … do we need it?” I halt and slowly peer over my shoulder at her. She shuffles on her feet a little nervously. “I’m on contraception and I got tested after my last break up. I haven’t–”
“I haven’t been with anyone for a while, Hollie. None of us has. We’ve been too busy working, concentrating on the ranch. But our last tests were all clear.”
Relief floods her face.
“You’re on contraception?” I ask her, hardly able to contemplate what she’s offering here, what she’s offering me. She nods. “And you want to do this without …” She nods again.
“I want to feel you. All of you.”
I sweep her up into my arms, carrying her over to the bed and tossing her onto the mattress.
