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I don’t care that I’m basically kissing him with the ferocity of a velociraptor. I need this. Now. Desperately. I rock my hips against his jeans, banging myself against his mountainous bulge, and holy shit, does he have a log of salami in there? Or a baseball bat? My hoo-ha is ultra pleased, so I rock against him again, grinding hard in my mom jeans, my clit hotter than a lit match about to light the rest of my body up.
Lennox kisses me back so hard that my lips feel bruised, and still, he doesn’t come up for oxygen. He might be superhuman, have the lung capacity of a dolphin, or maybe he’s like a turtle, and he breathes through his tail—oh, wait, what? No tail. Even his lungs have to come up for air at some point. He steers me straight to the table, rips his mouth from mine, sends a chair flying out of the way, and sets me down.
The thing creaks ominously.
“Either your table is possessed, or we’re going to break it.”
“Stop your dirty talk, or I’m going to come right here before you even get my pants off.”
He grins and strokes his hand down his beard thoughtfully. “That’s alright. I like watching you come, Cass.”
Oh, lord. Oh, god. Oh, pineapples on pizza. That voice. Talking like that. All dark and sultry and husky. His fingers smooth down his beard again, slowly, almost sensually. At this point, I’m going to combust and take my table with me.
“I’d very much like to try that cake, but first, I think I’d like to have you and eat you too.”
Gah! “Did you just make a crazy cake pun, but instead of the cake, you’re talking about my pussy?”
Lennox leans over me, his hands falling eagerly to my jeans. He undoes the button, frees the zipper, and tugs. I squirm, and he tugs again, so I shift, lifting my butt off the table. High-waist jeans are no joke. They take just about as much wriggling and pulling to get out of as skin-tight jeans. One more tug, and they’re off, sailing through the air like a denim kite, and Lennox is looking at me with a fierce glint in his eyes and a slight stain of red on his cheeks. His tongue licks slowly along his lower lip as if he’s savoring me already.
For the love of cake, that tongue.
Oh god, he’s going to put that tongue inside me.
Holy fuck, I might legitimately die right now.
“Going to taste that sweet puss now,” Lennox growls as he drops to his knees. “The sweetest pussy in the entire universe.”
“Oh-oh. I didn’t realize that’s what having me and eating me too meant.” I’m going for witty, but my words are more like gasps, half cut off and half rasped out.
Lennox makes sure I know what he meant. He spreads my legs wide enough to wrap around his huge shoulders, tucking them over his back, and then he takes my panties—a lacy thong that I kind of liked—and shreds them clean off my body with a single tug. My skin, thighs, stomach, and nipples burn, and my brain shuts down completely.
His tongue might be the undiscovered paradise my va-jay has been looking for its whole entire life. The first pass of his tongue makes my eyes blurry and unfocused, while the second makes me see stars. On the third, I give up on keeping my eyes open, even if it means missing out on watching the world’s sexiest scene play out.
I moan and slam my hips up and down on the table, which makes it rock and sway beneath me. I don’t want the damn thing to collapse and ruin the moment, so I try and stay still after that, which is literally an impossible task when Lennox is worshipping me with his tongue, licking me from my entrance all the way up to my clit. He spreads me open with his fingers, and I can smell my scent of arousal. Then, he eats me hard and loud, and just fuck, nope, there’s no staying still. My hips buck up and down, forward and back. I’m doing a whole rodeo on his face, and honestly, I’m sorry, my dear table, but I give zero fucks about your longevity right now.
“Love this view,” Lennox hums from between my legs. “Love the taste of you. You don’t just have the sweetest pussy. You have the most beautiful one. So wet for me. You’re soaking the table, Cass. Soaking my chin and beard. Soaking my hand.” He curls his finger over my clit, then moves his hand, and suddenly, his fingers are at my entrance. “This okay?” he asks.
“Oh my god, yes!” I try to grasp his hair, but it’s really too short to thread my fingers through, so I end up basically giving him a scalp massage instead.
