Page 38 of In Stockings
She giggles, then yawns. “And you’ll be here in the morning?”
“I will.”
“I’ll wake you up really early.”
“Thanks,” I say, peering over at Samson, who shrugs.
“That’s what you signed up for with Lyra. Early morning wake-up snuggles.”
“Sounds great,” I say, meaning every word.
The pub on Christmas Eve has been fun, but I won’t miss it this year. And as for Christmas dinner with my miserable dad or on my own – definitely not missing that.
Archie scoops Lyra into his arms, and she hangs onto his neck, resting her tired head on his shoulder. I stroke her soft hair.
“Goodnight, darling,” I say, kissing the crown of her head before she’s carried upstairs by her dad.
I make myself comfortable on the sofa, happy to sit and gaze at the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.
“You want to talk me through this outfit choice, Omega?” Samson asks, strolling into the living room with the others a half hour later.
“Craig made a special request.” I straighten my red and green skirt.
“It’s the ears,” Craig rests his hand on his packmate’s shoulder. “It does something for me, mate.”
“Man,” Samson says with some disgust on his face. “That is some weird kinky shit.”
Craig shrugs, flopping down on the sofa beside me, hooking his arm around my neck and pulling me close. He drags his tongue around the shell of my pointy ear.
“I like watching you pleasure our omega,” Archie says, taking a long gulp from Santa's glass of milk, “But that is a hard pass.”
I shimmy out of Craig’s hold and stand in the centre of the room. “Are you sure about that, Alphas?”
They stare at me with confusion.
“I thought you might like your Christmas present early,” I purr.
“Is that allowed?” Archie asks with a smirk.
“Elves are known for their naughtiness,” Craig says.
“Does that mean we get to spank you?” Samson asks with eagerness.
I hold my hands up for them to be quiet. They’re like a pack of eager puppy dogs, me their new squeaky plaything.
I take the hem of my skirt in my hands and slowly creep it up my stripy-covered thigh.
The alphas’ eyes are locked on the movement of my hands. When I slip over the top of my stocking, revealing creamy bare flesh and garter straps, the room fills with a mixture of groans, grunts and growls.
“Stockings,” Samson edges forward. “Real stockings.”
“Uh-huh,” I lift the skirt even higher to the edge of my arse. I pause and look at them all.
“Don’t stop, Omega,” Craig orders. “Keep going.”
I turn my back on then, leaning forward a little and lifting my skirt right over my arse, this time revealing a very small pair of silky scarlet knickers.
“You are a naughty little thing. You think those knickers are respectable for a little elf like you.”
