I stepped back, allowing him inside. He moved slowly, his gaze sweeping over the room, every step deliberate. His attention lingered on my large red amethyst cluster that sat on my nightstand—the same one I used to find my center. Before him, it had been enough. Now, nothing but the weight of his body and the burn of his touch could ground me.
“It’s a beautiful stone,” he remarked, his eyes settled on my warm face.
I didn’t want to get into the beauty of my stone, or how I felt it watching our every move. Not when I had so many questions for him. Not when only one question and one answer mattered.
"May I help you with something?" My voice came out lower, rougher than I intended.
His eyes held mine, molten and heavy. His lips parted, but instead of speaking, he closed the distance between us, capturing my mouth with his. The kiss was fierce, erasing every bit of anger I’d felt. His hands slid into my damp hair, his groan a vibration that shot straight to my core.
I didn’t resist. Couldn’t. The need pulsing between us was undeniable, primal. His tongue swept against mine, tasting, claiming. My towel loosened, and he slipped his hands beneath it, cupping my breasts, his thumbs flicking over my hardened nipples. I gasped, arching into his touch, my body begging for more.
"Naima," he breathed, his voice a delicious rasp. "I need you. Now."
I nodded, words lost to the torrent of desire. He pulled a condom from his pocket, his hands sure and practiced. The towel fell away, pooling at my feet, and his amber eyes darkened as he took me in. His gaze was a physical touch, raking over my bare skin, setting me alight.
"So damn beautiful," he whispered. His mouth descended to my breasts, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peaks, sucking one nipple deep into his mouth. He laved and pulled, the wet heat of his tongue mixed with the gentle scrape of his teeth. My knees wobbled, the pleasure electric, every tug of his lips sending a fresh wave of wetness between my thighs.
His palms slid down to my hips, gripping me as he lifted me easily. My legs wrapped around his waist, my arms around his neck, and then?—
He filled me. One long, deep thrust that stole my breath. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his strength guiding me up and down on his thick length. Each pull, each push, stretched me, marked me. His growls rumbled against my skin, his control unraveling as he drove us both to the edge with his punctuated thrusts.
"Look at me," he demanded, his hand cradling my jaw, forcing my gaze to his. "I want to see you take it."
I could barely keep my eyes open, the pleasure too much, too sharp. But I obeyed, my vision blurring as he hit that spot inside me, the one that made my toes curl and my voice break.
"Good girl," he whispered, his lips brushing mine. "Take it all."
I shattered around him, my walls clenching tight, drawing a moan from his lips. But he wasn’t done. Not yet. He moved us to the bed, lowering me onto my knees. His hand rested on my shoulder, the other guiding himself back inside of my wetness.
"Arch that back," he instructed, his hand pressing into the small of my spine. I bent deeper, my ass high, my cheek againstthe cool sheets. He smoothed his palm over my back, the weight of his hand grounding me. Then, his thumb traced the curve of my ass, teasing, spreading, before his hand came down in a sharp smack. The sting bloomed, pain and pleasure twisting together, and I moaned, my pussy fluttering around nothing.
"Such a pretty sound," he murmured, his voice like gravel. He spread me wide, his fingers brushing over my wetness, dipping inside just enough to make me clench. "You like being taken like this, don’t you?"
"Yes," I breathed. "Please, Lennox."
He slid inside me, his dick thick and unyielding, stretching me open in the most delicious way. The angle was deeper, the connection tighter. My amethyst crystal sat on the nightstand, a silent witness to the way he took me, the way I gave in to him completely. The sounds of our bodies—skin against skin, the wet slide of him into me—filled the room.
He gripped my hips, pulling me back into every thrust, his pace brutal, relentless. I couldn’t hold back. My orgasm crashed over me, my walls clenching, milking him, my name a broken scream on his lips.
He followed, his body locking against mine, his release hot and deep. His hands slid up my spine, gathering my hair into a fist, pulling my head back until his lips were against my ear.
"We skipped dinner," I murmured, a lazy smile stretching across my face.
He chuckled, the sound rich and sated. "Nah, I got everything I needed right here."
12
LENNOX
It had only been a few weeks, but the rhythms of this place—the sound of the creek, the scent of lavender and sage, the way the guests found moments of peace under Naima’s gentle guidance—had woven themselves into my days.
I moved through the small weight room, guiding a new set of guests through a weight resistance session. I demonstrated squats, deadlifts, and resistance band exercises, emphasizing strength and stability. My hands-on approach drew a few shy smiles but I knew it was necessary to truly give them the tools they needed to begin whatever fitness goals they desired once they returned home. This wasn’t just some cushy resort gig. People came here to heal, to rebuild themselves from the inside out.
But there was no denying it—the place needed work—not even the new equipment they bought could cover that up. The weights were outdated, the treadmills finicky, and while the retreat’s holistic approach was its charm, its financials were likely a mess. My father wouldn’t touch this with a ten-foot pole, not with all the improvements it would need to becomeprofitable. And yet, the idea of handing him a bad report twisted my gut. Especially when I thought about Naima.
Not just Naima, the healer. Naima, the dreamer. Naima, the woman who had laid across my chest this morning, her breath soft against my skin, her hand tracing idle circles along my abdomen.
I finished the session, helping the last of the guests pack up their things. I wiped down the weights, every repetition of the task pulling me deeper into my thoughts. Back to this morning, when she had slipped from my bed, wrapped in my sheets, her skin glowing in the early light. The way we so easily slipped into lovemaking.
