Olivia’s POV

I gasped as the tip of his cock brushed against my entrance. Hot, heavy, and throbbing—but he kept his word. He didn’t push in; he simply aligned us, letting the thick head rest flush against my soaked folds.

“Lennox…” I whimpered, fingers digging into his shirt as my body trembled from the contact.

“Shh… I’ve got you,” he growled, his voice low. “Just let it happen. Just feel.”

The friction—the delicious, maddening friction of his shaft sliding against my slick folds as he held me close—was overwhelming. I was wetter than ever before, and the ache between my legs became unbearable. His scent filled the car, his warmth enveloped me, and I could only move with him.

My hips rocked involuntarily, desperate for more contact, chasing a pleasure I hadn’t realized I craved so intensely. The tension between us built; his groans vibrated against my skin, his hands guiding me perfectly over him, never going too far, but never stopping either.

And gods, I loved it. Every second. Even if he never pushed inside, even this was enough to drive me wild.

“Lennox,” I moaned, my head falling to his shoulder, my whole body shaking.

“I told you,” he whispered, his voice tight with restraint, “I’m not fucking you, Olivia. I’m just helping my mate.”

His mate. The words felt like a second skin, and I realized how completely consumed I already was.

His breath was hot against my neck; one strong arm wrapped firmly around my waist while the other slipped beneath my dress. Slowly, deliberately, he tugged the fabric down until it bunched below my chest. My breath hitched as cool air kissed my skin, my lace-covered breasts rising and falling with each shallow gasp.

“Lennox…” I whispered, my voice trembling with a mixture of warning and desire.

“I’m not going in,” he murmured against my collarbone, his voice hoarse. “You just need relief, Olivia. Let me help you. Just trust me.”

His words vibrated against my skin, deep and soothing, and, for reasons I couldn’t explain, I did trust him.

I gasped as his hands roamed my sides, one brushing the sensitive skin beneath my bra, the other guiding my hips forward. My soaked folds slid once more over his rigid length, the heat and hardness of him pressing against my entrance—so close, yet still outside. My nerves were on fire. Every stroke, every drag of my body against his sent jolts through me that stole my breath.

My head fell back as I moaned softly, trying to stay quiet, but it was impossible. I clutched his shoulders, fingernails digging into his shirt. The wet friction was unbearable and perfect, and I felt myself pulsing, tightening as if my body believed he was already inside.

Outside, through the tinted windows, I could still see his guards keeping watch. The road was empty, secured. We were alone, but not truly. This thought, instead of embarrassing me, intensified the thrill.

Lennox’s hand cupped my breast, his thumb brushing my hardened nipple through the lace. I cried out softly, biting my lower lip, pressing my forehead into his neck. His scent was maddening—woodsy, spicy, with a hint of wild that always stirred my wolf.

His other hand slipped beneath me, adjusting the angle as my folds glided along his length again and again, his tip teasingly brushing my entrance. I was drenched. Every glide made a wet sound between us, my body betraying how much I wanted this—how much I wanted him.

“Olivia,” he groaned, his own hips jerking against mine. “You’re so warm. So wet… and I haven’t even touched you properly.”

I clenched around nothing, and that unbearable pressure built and built until—

“Lennox—” I choked, breath ragged. “I… I can’t—”

“Come for me, baby,” he whispered against my ear. “Just let go.”

And I did.

The climax hit me hard, a wave of heat and trembling ecstasy rolling through me. My body convulsed against his, and he held me tightly, grounding me as I cried out softly into his shoulder. I felt him shudder underneath me, his cock twitching and pulsing against me, thick release spilling between my thighs, hot and slick.

He didn’t speak for a long moment. He simply wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. One hand cradled the back of my head as I sagged against him, spent and dazed.

He rested his chin on my shoulder, breathing hard, arms wrapped tightly around me as if he didn’t want to let go. I remained slumped against him, boneless and dazed, my cheek against his chest, his scent surrounding me.

“You smell so good,” he whispered, his voice softer now, more vulnerable. “So good it drives me insane. I could hold you like this forever,” he murmured, his lips brushing my temple.

He kissed my head, then tilted his head down, his eyes searching mine. “Are you feeling okay now?”

That question snapped me out of it.

I straightened suddenly, pulling away from his lap. My dress slipped back over my chest as I reached for my panties, yanking them back up with shaking hands. My cheeks burned.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, avoiding his eyes. “Thank you. But you can’t tell anyone about this. Ever.”

He leaned back, still catching his breath, a smug yet utterly wrecked look on his face. He groaned low in his throat, his voice dark and teasing. “You’re thanking me?”

I glanced at him, swallowing the heat in my throat. “Yeah. Thank you.”

His jaw tensed, nostrils flaring as if he was holding himself back. Instead, he nodded once, his eyes never leaving mine.

Lennox silently contacted his driver through their mind link. “Get back in the car,” he said curtly, his voice hoarse but steady.

A few seconds later, the passenger door opened, and his driver returned. The vehicle hummed back to life, smoothly rolling down the secluded road. Neither of us spoke. I could still feel the ghost of his hands on my skin, the wetness between my thighs a physical reminder of what had just happened.

I shifted in my seat, keeping my eyes on the window to avoid looking desperate. My heart pounded in my chest, but I forced myself to regain control. I was supposed to hate him. I had to remember that.

By the time we pulled up to the pack house, the sun had fully risen. The guards at the gates stepped aside quickly, heads bowed in respect, as our car passed. The sight of the familiar building brought a strange mix of comfort and dread. This place held so many memories—some sweet, most bitter.

The car stopped. Lennox stepped out first, motioning for me to follow. I obeyed, climbing out slowly, trying not to show how unsteady my legs still were.

We walked in silence through the main hallway, the grand walls towering over us. I could still feel the heat of his body, the way he held me so intimately just minutes before. My mind screamed a million things at once, but I kept my expression cool.

“So,” I said, keeping my tone casual, “are you still going to show me what your wife did to you? Or was that just part of the mind games?”

He stopped walking. The tension crackled between us. He didn’t turn around immediately, but when he finally did, his face was unreadable. For a moment, I thought he would refuse, push me away again, perhaps offer another cryptic answer to drive me mad.

But instead, he gave a slow nod. “Follow me.”

He turned and started walking again, and I followed.