Nana

“Oh my—” Your eyes roll back in your head as your lips part to form an O. “Fuck!”

Zayne hums against your clit, sucking against the sensitive skin.

You hiss air in through your teeth and snap your head down to watch him. His gaze already awaited yours; the hazel-green of his iris is swallowed by his blown pupils. Your back arches involuntarily in response to the pleasure his tongue gives you. “That feels so good,” you moan, running your hands through his hair.

Zayne parts his lips and kisses your clit in an obscene, sloppy tongue-kiss, ending the motion by pouting his lips against your cunt and sucking your clit. The sight is debauched and indulgent, reminding you of the slow kisses he teases your other lips with while you sit on his lap and help him wind down after a long day.

He french-kisses your cunt again before pulling back and pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “You need to keep your voice down, sweetheart,” he gently chastises. “These walls are thick, but they aren’t impressive enough to conceal your volume.”

“I’m sorry,” you immediately reply, needing to feel his lips back on you. “I’ll be quiet.” You deigned not to remind him that it had been HIM who asked you to say his name, leading you to lose control of your volume, but in the current atmosphere, you didn’t quite feel like bringing up semantics if it meant it would take longer for him to make you cum.

“Good.” He cracks a small, handsome smile, leaning into your touch while you run your fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to get interrupted and stop before I can finish here.” He leans back in between your thighs, and you have to clasp a hand over your mouth to stifile the moan that rose in your throat.

It was so sexy—how he spoke of making you cum as something for him. But Zayne always had been quite the giver.

His eyes flutter shut, and his brows crease as he traces tight, wet circles around your clit with his tongue. “Mmm!” Your pleased whine is muffled by your palm, but you cannot control your thighs that begin to tremble around his head. The hand in his hair tightens against his scalp, while the hand on his desk beside you crumples a paper you really hope can be reprinted.

Zayne’s arms are wrapped around your legs; his hands grip your thighs to hold you steady and keep your cunt pressed to his mouth while he eats you out. He shakes his head from side to side, dragging his soft tongue against you. 

It aches where he pleases you, never enough, and simultaneously too much. You want him inside you, above you, below you, around you—to be consumed by him and to be consuming him. Your hands can't run along enough skin on the nape of his neck, your nails can’t dig hard enough into the muscle planes of his back as your body jerks forward and you latch onto him for dear life.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip while Zayne grunts into your cunt, sending blissful vibrations down to your very core. He flattens his tongue and rubs your clit in circles expertly, as he has done a thousand times before.

And it’s too much.

“Z-zayne.” You manage to gasp out his name without crying it for the whole hospital night staff to hear.

He knows exactly what that sound means, so attuned with your body and how your clit twitches against his tongue and your needy entrance pulses around nothing. He wishes he could fill you, even with just his fingers, but he knew that kind of pleasure would be too much for now, so he settled for only using his tongue.

He nods, holding your eyes with his blissed out gaze. The tips of his ears and his cheeks are a handsome red, all flushed in his own arousal and pride at making his beautiful partner feel so good. He tells you to let go with his stare, to cum all over his tongue and make a mess of his mouth, to use him and ride it out until your body becomes boneless with satiation.

So that’s exactly what you do.

“Zayne, Zayne, Zayne—” You chant his name, your final cry strained as your lips fall open and your orgasm crashes into you. You gasp against the onslaught of pleasure while he continues to gently lick your cunt, careful not to add too much pressure to your clit directly lest he overstimulates you without meaning to.

The pleasure is so intense. Your abdomen jerks uncontrollably as you ride it out on his tongue. You feel entirely out of control of your body, your legs shaking and your arms taut as you hold his head against you, but your mind is calm and a sea of white, knowing that you are in the safest place in the world.

Zayne removes his mouth from between your legs and stands from the floor of his desk. He wipes the evidence of your pleasure from his mouth with his thumb and steps between your thighs. Using his thumb and pointer finger, he tilts your boneless head up to face him, slightly smirking at the blissed-out expression on your face. “Are you satisfied?” he asks.

In response, you lean into his chest and wrap your arms around him, nuzzling into his abdomen. 

Zayne grunts in surprise, pausing with his arms in the air before he chuckles and reciprocates your touch. He strokes your hair with a strong hand, drawing his fingers down to cradle the back of your head while he draws his hand up and down your back in a soothing manner. “I’ll set up the couch for you. I have a few post-op tasks to complete, and then we can go home, alright?” 

He leans back to see your face and bends down to press a kiss to your nose, making you blink one of your eyes shut at his closeness. “Are you tired?” he whispers.

You nod, feeling your eyelids be weighed down by boulders the longer your stay in his embrace.

You’re so exhausted, you hardly recognize you’re being lifted until he’s setting you down on the plush couch in his office. Your head sinks into the decorative pillow at the arm of the couch, before a weight is placed atop you.