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“Is it nice?”
“You wanna see?”
Lennox reclined in her seat. Her face flashed in horror. “Are you serious?”
I swallowed back brandy. “I am.”
“What would I do?”
“Me.” When I could register her shock, I offered, “Or let me…you. It would be fun.” I winked before taking another sip.
She dropped her chin then her cognac eyes. Lennox wanted to fuck. Now. I had enough experience with women to be able to read body language. I loved the effect I had on her sexually. Maybe kickstarting that leg of our relationship wasn’t a bad idea after all. I finally had more of her. She finally wanted more of me.
My attention shifted to her high heeled boots. They added inches to her petite frame. She wore fitted jeans, and what looked to be a bodysuit under a cropped blazer.
“So, am I getting you a hotel room for the night?”
Lennox’s lashes lifted as she looked up from her glass planted on her crossed legs. “I am at my hotel.” She glanced around. “Here’s my bar. There’s the lobby’s piano. But for some reason, the piano player isn’t there doing his job.” Her mouth twisted. “Are you the piano player?”
She serious about this role playing…
“I’m your host, actually. Anything you need, I’m here to provide.”
“Right now, I’d like to see my room.” Lennox took a sip of her wine.
I placed my glass on the bar. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll show you to your room and start your shower to begin relaxing you. While you’re doing that, I can put something together to really prepare you for a good night’s rest.”
Lennox’s lips twisted, but her cheeks spread. “I’d like that.”
“Before we go, give me a number.”
One brow lifted. “A number?”
I shrugged with my lips. “Any number. Single digit.”
Lennox rubbed her lips together as she thought about it. “Three.” Insecure about the random act, she rolled her eyes.
My head bobbed as visions loaded in my mind. “Three. Easy.” I gave her a neck bow, impressed by her boldness. “This way.”
Although she tried to hide it, she was tense. Her joints were tighter each minute I massaged her glorious, naked body. Now on her back, the chain connecting the clamps I fastened to her nipples moved. Lennox let me put them on without a single protest, confirming my suspicion of her needs. She squirmed on the portable massage table. I wanted to remind her to relax; however, I knew her tension wasn’t coming from pain, but from need.
I lifted her right leg over my shoulder as I leaned into the table and kneaded into her thigh. Running the bottom of my palms across her muscles, the glow from the lit fireplace made her glossed skin appear delectably bronzed. After her shower, I had Lennox on a massage table in the middle of my master bedroom, fully oiled. I rubbed her body thoroughly from her neck to her toes, front and back. The venture was quite delicious, allowing me to learn about hidden moles and scars. I even got to see her birthmark again.
When I worked my fingers into the juncture of her hip, she tilted her pelvis, pushing her pussy in the air. Again, telling me where she needed me. I smirked, understanding her desire. Still, I stuck to my plan of learning her body. It would be mine from here on out.
After finishing up with that thigh, I put her leg down, then turned to grab waiting hot stones. Starting from her feet, I massaged them into her oiled skin, moving against her muscles. I made sure to circle them into her belly even through Lennox’s contractions; she was so damn reactive. I took my time rubbing them onto each of her arms, finally looping them around her breasts.
I watched her face, and the line between her brows, as it thickened. Her lips twitched, rubbed, and pressed into each other intermittently. When I was done with the stones, I placed them onto a table. Then I studied her body, watching her cues of impatience, enjoying the bold display of her femininity. Reaching over, I yanked at the nipple chain.
“Mmmmm…” Her body tightened from the core.
The tips of my fingers danced down her slippery body onto her bed of pubic hairs. I noticed the wax job had grown in. That told me Lennox had planned to share her body with me last month inSamsara; it wasn’t from pressure or a request. She willingly gave herself to me.
The second I pushed two fingers down her slit, a gush of air broke through her lips, and Lennox’s thighs parted. I went straight down and into her core, my fingers moving exploratively as I watched her every reaction. It took me years to learn how to finger a woman. I heard them complain about men ramming their fingers and, sometimes, whole fists inside a narrow, protected orifice. Not only should those hidden nerves inside be the goal, but politely entering to find them was a priority, too.
From my experience, not every woman’s major orgasmic nerve endings were located in the same place. That means not everyone can orgasm in the same positions, neither did they come from the same places inside. So, as I massaged her internally with intention, I watched Lennox’s responses. She was so roused, it shouldn’t have taken—
“Ooooh!” she moaned out loud, giving me GPS-level instruction.
