Page 7 of Lennox Lane

When he finally put his mouth on her, Lane saw stars. Not metaphorically either—but actual bursts of light behind her eyelids as his tongue dragged through her folds with a flat, firm stroke that had her crying out. He didn't rush; instead, he ate her like he had all night, like her pleasure was the only thing on his agenda for the night. She tried to watch him lick and suck every part of her pussy, but when he started circling her clit with a precision that made her thighs tremble around his ears—her eyes snapped shut as her head fell back against the bed.

"Right there," she panted, letting her hands find their way to his waves, gripping tight, "Right fucking there, Lennox."

He hummed against her, causing vibrations to ease up her spine before he dragged his tongue lower, pushing it in her pretty pussy as she writhed against his face, making her back arch off the bed. When he’d had his fill, he moved lower still, teasing the tight ring of muscle that no one had ever touched with their mouth before.

"Lennox—"

"You want me to stop?" he asked as the words were muffled against her skin with his breath hot and wet.

"Don't you dare."

He chuckled, knowing what her answer would be, before giving her asshole the same thorough attention he'd given her pussy. He was using his fingers to fill the void his tongue left moments prior—pumping into her while his tongue worked her backdoor open. Lane was making sounds she'd never heard from her own throat—desperate sounds filled with need that she couldn't control if she wanted to.

"Please," she begged, hating herself for it but simultaneously loving it, "Please, I need⁠—"

"I know what the fuck you need, Lavender.” He rose, licking his lips as his chin glistened. "Turn over."

She did as told, her body thrumming with a need that felt like it might kill her if it wasn't satisfied. Lennox positioned her how he wanted her—knees tucked under her, chest pressed to the mattress, ass in the air—and then he delivered the first spank.

The crack of his palm against her flesh echoed in the room, sharp and shocking. Lane yelped, more from surprise than pain, moaning as the heat spread and bloomed into something delicious that made her clit throb.

"Count," he commanded, his voice authoritative.

"One."

Another spank, this one harder on her other cheek.

"Two."

By five, she was trembling, dripping, and blissfully blank of everything except his presence behind her. By eight, she was chanting his name like a mantra, and when he reached ten, he soothed the heated skin with his palm. As he kneaded her flesh, she felt the head of his dick nudging against her entrance.

"Condom," she managed, the word barely audible.

"Already on," He leaned over her, covering her body with his.

Lane turned her head, catching his mouth in a messy kiss. "I want to feel you, all of you—but protected for now."

Lennox nodded his understanding as he was pushing inside her slowly and steadily until she was completely filled with a thickness that made her eyes water. He gave her time to adjust as his forehead lay pressed between her shoulder blades, breathing ragged.

"Fuck, Lane. You feel—" He spoke between clenched teeth. "You feel like home. I know that sounds crazy, but goddamn,” he grunted before lacing their fingers together.

"Stroke me," she whispered. "Please, Lennox. Stroke me, deep," she nearly begged.

He listened, starting with slow, controlled strokes—but every time he pulled out to the tip and sank back in with a roll of his hips—he found a spot made just for him.

"Harder," she demanded, pushing back against him. “Fuck me like you mean it," she demanded, wanting him as wild and undone as she was.

Lennox snapped, tightening his grip on her hips as his pace quickened until he was pounding into her. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room while mixing with their breathless moans and the creak of the bed frame. He reached around to find her clit, rubbing tight circles in perfect sync with his thrusts. Lane felt her orgasm building like a tsunami, inevitable and overwhelming.

"Cum for me," he gritted out, his own control fraying at the edges, "Let me feel you, Lane. I want every drop of what I worked for; it’s mine,” he demanded as he smacked her ass, leaving his handprint as a signature.

He sent her over the edge as she came apart with a scream she was sure the whole villa could hear. Her pussy clamped down on him in rhythmic pulses that seemed to go on forever, pulling Lennox over the edge with her. He buried himself as deep as he could go while groaning her name like a prayer. His release was hot and flooding as he collapsed over her, leaving both of them shaking, sweating, and satisfied.

He didn't roll away or rush to get back to his suite—he didn’t reach for his phone to check his notifications. Instead, he pulled out gently, tied off the condom, and disposed of it before climbing back into bed with a warm washcloth to wipe her down before gathering her against his chest. His heart beat a steady rhythm against her back.

"You good?" he asked.

The softness in his voice and lack of usual authority was replaced by something tender that scared her more than the sex had. Lane nodded, not trusting her voice. Her body felt like melted wax and her mind hazy with endorphins because somewhere in the past hour, he'd managed to crack open a door she'd kept locked for years.