Page 45 of Catching Sparks

Poppy: Oh. Great then.

Me: I didn’t know you wanted me to leave my number.

Poppy: Yeah, well, I want far more than your number right now.

My cock throbs at her confidence, precum seeping into my briefs. Stretching my neck, I reply.

Me: Tell me what you want then.

She doesn’t text back. Instead, I watch the screen change to show her calling me. I answer instantly, lifting the phone to my ear, not caring for games. We want the same thing. I’ve wanted it since the moment I left her place last Friday.

Her voice is deliciously breathy, wobbly as she speaks over the soft buzz around her. “Where are you right now?”

“The guest house.”

“Are you alone?”

“Completely.”

She moans softly, and I catch the ruffling of blankets in the speaker. “How fast can you get here?”

“What are you doing right now?” I demand, dropping my hand to my cock, pressing against it with enough pressure to elicit a moan of my own.

“You know what I’m doing. But it isn’t enough, and I know that you’ve felt it too. Every day since, haven’t you?”

“Since what, Poppy?”

Her laugh is a strained sound. “Since you’ve been inside of me. You want more as much as I do. Touching you today . . .”

My head falls back, my neck straining with each inhale I suck back. “Tell me.”

“Just come here. Please,” she whines, more of that rustling noise around her, as if she’s kicking her legs out over her bedding.

I grip my shaft through my jeans, squeezing just hard enough to tease relief. It won’t be as easy to just jerk off now that I’ve heard her like this and know she’s thought of me with a vibrator between her legs. Fuck, it hasn’t been easy to jerk off at all since leaving that morning. I’ve tasted paradise, and my body refuses to accept anything less from now on.

“Tell me what you’re doing first,” I push selfishly.

The vibrations grow louder before she gasps. It’s nothing more than a quick, barely there inhale, but I focus on it. Grow frantic to hear another.

“I’m using the same vibrator you used when you were here.”

“Where?” I groan, the memory of the round head of it rubbing over her wet, swollen pussy driving me to near insanity. I’m close to unzipping my jeans and pulling my cock out when she cries out.

“On my clit. It’s so—so good.”

“Stop.”

The command is hard, brutal. I leave no room for argument as I push out of the chair so hard it nearly topples backward and storm out of the house.

“Stop?” Poppy asks, that vibrator still thrumming away.

“Turn it off. Set it on the bed beside you and wait for me right where you are. Use your fingers instead. Stretch your cunt and get ready for me. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

The vibrations stop. “How many fingers?”

“However many you need. Just don’t come. I get to wring that first one from you.”

She hums, and the sound shoots right to my groin, the fabric of my briefs wet and sticky. “Better hurry, then. I’ve never been good with orgasm denial.”

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