Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Hollie
That kiss with Tucker may have been hotter than holy hell, but I’m freezing my ass off, and I’m utterly relieved when the alphas’ cabin comes into view. I’m guessing Storm must feel similarly because he picks up his pace and we’re outside the cabin in no time at all.
Tucker leads me straight inside, and has a fire roaring in a matter of minutes, leaving me to strip off my wet outer layers while he ensures Storm is warm and settled in the shed row barn.
When he returns, I’m standing by the fire in just my woolly sweater, my panties and my socks.
Luckily, the sweater is an oversized one that falls to the top of my thighs, ensuring my modesty, but Tucker takes a good look at me anyway.
“It’s very Christmassy in here.” I point to the large decorated tree, the strings of lights and the evergreen garland string above the fireplace.
“Nash,” he explains, “he’s our design guru and he likes everything looking festive for the holidays. Do you like it?”
“I love it. Are you sure one of you isn’t actually Santa and this is your grotto?”
“Definitely not Santa but more than willing to make your Christmas wishes come true, sweetheart.” He winks at me. “Still cold?”
I’ve wrapped a blanket around my shoulders but my teeth are still chattering.
“A little,” I tell him.
He frowns and then he’s busy boiling a kettle and soon I have a steaming hot mug of tea in my hands and he’s maneuvering me into an armchair in front of the fire and encouraging me to drink the tea down.
Usually, I hate feeling cold – it’s not a sensation I’m used to having lived all my life in Rockview – but I’m more than happy to sit sipping my hot tea as I watch Tucker strip off his wet clothes, go around tidying away the equipment he’d taken out with them, checking the electrics, feeding the fire, and asking me frequently if I’m feeling warm yet.
“Almost,” I say. “It’s just my toes now.”
I wiggle them in my thick socks.
“You’ve got cold feet?” Tucker says.
“You have no idea. I always have cold feet.”
“Well, that’s no good. It’s the most miserable thing in the world, having cold feet.”
“I know.”
He drops to his knees before me, and then he’s rolling down my right sock.
“What are you doing?” I say. “They’re gonna get even colder.”
“No, they’re not.”
He takes my first foot in his warm hands and rubs them.
“Oh,” I moan. “That feels really good.”
“Exactly.”
He yanks off my other sock and warms that foot too.
“Better?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say with a big smile.
He meets that smile with an even bigger one of his own. “How about your legs, sweetheart? Are they cold too?”
“A little,” I say, sensing where this may be leading and more than happy to play along.
He shakes his head. “That just won’t do.”
He runs those big hands of his, warm and slightly calloused, up my calves, massaging them as he does. It’s not exactly the most erotic action and yet his touch feels electric against my skin.
When his hands reach my knees, he glances up at me.
“How about the rest of you, sugar?”
“Definitely cold.”
“Want me to warm up all of you?”
I bite down on my lip and nod. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.
“If you change your mind–” he begins.
“I’ll be sure to tell you, Cowboy.”
He chuckles and then he’s gliding his hands up the top of my thighs. I bite down harder on my lip when he reaches my hips and slides his hands down the inside of my thighs. I’m incredibly sensitive there and it’s enough to make me shiver.
“There’s one way I know of that will definitely get those cheeks of yours glowing,” he says with a smirk as he strokes back up the inside of my thighs, reaching my panties.
“Oh yeah, what’s that?”
He strokes his fingers along the gusset of my panties. I’m even more sensitive 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 spot Tucker kneeling in front of my bare pussy, the perfume of my slick thick in the air.