Page 121 of Lennox Lane

“Daddy listens to you.”

“You’re was so fucking sexy, especially when you speak to me like that,” she managed to get out as her arousal danced in her eyes.

He was sure his next request would cause her pulse to speed up and her clit throb as he stepped behind her, letting his hands settle lightly at her waist. “Let me dress you.”

He could feel Lane’s stomach tighten as she met his gaze in the mirror. “You like this?”

“I love this.”

“You love having me like this.”

His voice dropped. “Trusting me?”

Lane swallowed. “Yes.”

His hands moved carefully to the straps of her satin dress. “I do.”

There was no rush in him as he undressed her, making their hunger for each other deeper. His fingertips skimmed her shoulders as he slid the thin straps down. His mouth followed with soft kisses that made her eyes flutter before she could pretend otherwise. The leopard satin whispered down her body, pooling at her feet in a spill of fabric, leaving her standing in front of him with nothing to hide.

Tonight, she didn’t.

Tonight, Lane leaned back into every kiss. Every touch warm against her skin. When his hands moved over her hips, she didn’t stiffen or turn it into a joke. When his mouth brushed the curve of her shoulder, she let her head tilt. When he whispered her name in a way that let her know he enjoyed her on his tongue in every way possible, she let herself relish it.

His hands were reverent and his eyes were overrun with lust in the same way hers were when he stared in them.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured.

“I’m letting you enjoy your hobby.”

“My hobby?”

“Being obsessed with me.”

His laugh brushed her skin. “That’s not my hobby, it’s my calling,” he affirmed, making Lane shivered.

He kneeled before her and held the thong open as Lane stepped in, one hand braced lightly on his shoulder. His hands traveled up her legs as he guided the delicate fabric into place, lingering at her thighs, then her hips, making the act feel less like dressing her and more like devoting himself to her.

The bra came next, then her garter, and finally the stockings—rolled with careful fingers as his mouth grazed the inside of her knee once just to make her body jerk.

“Lennox,” she warned.

“Yes, Baby?”

Lane’s hold on his shoulders tightened as his eyes lifted to hers, dark and knowing. “You good?”

She hated how much she loved that he asked when his mouth was that close to making her forget language. “Yes.”

“Color?”

She paused she smiled, slow and honest. “Green.”

His eyes flashed with strangled restraint. “Good girl.”

His praise landed right between her thighs, making them press together. Lennox noticed, too. He noticed everything about her. His hands rose to her hips, holding her in place as he leaned closer. His mouth touched her through intention more than contact at first. He was teasing her. He was warming her up. He was making promises she knew he would keep. His words followed, low and filthy enough to make her ears burn, but wrapped in enough praise to make her feel worshiped instead of exposed. He told her what he saw when he looked at her. What he wanted to do when the night was over. How beautiful she looked trusting him. How hard it was to keep his hands patient when she stood there wrapped in emerald flowers like temptation.

Lane’s breath broke, and her body softened toward him. She was chasing every word. Every brush of his mouth and every steady hold of his hands brought her right to the edge. Right to the place where her thoughts scattered and all that remained was heat, need, and the sound of him calling her his good girl like he’d been born knowing what it would do to her. Then he pulled back, making Lane’s eyes fly open. Lennox stood slowly, licking his lips as if he had all the time in the world and not one ounce of shame. She watched him look pleased with himself.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, breathless.