Page 49 of Catching Sparks

I sigh, reaching behind me to hold his thighs, my back arching in the process. Soft, helpless cries escape me as I rock over him, twirling and lifting my hips, taking my pleasure. Demanding it. Every downward grind sends shocks through me, the pressure on my clit a beautiful relief.

“You’re arrogant,” I gasp. He grins, the appearance of it one of pure bliss. His hand drifts from my ass to my hip, the grip on me still unforgiving and possessive. A brand. “Stop talking and fuck me.”

“I can do both.”

He thrusts. Hard and deep. I scream at the depth in which he slides, the slap of his balls to my ass failing to be heard over my voice. Arching my back further than should be possible, I set my feet on the bed and lift myself up, opening my hips to make it easier for him to do it again.

“Again!” I demand, eyes rolling back.

He obliges my request. Over and over again until I can’t see straight. My palms are slick with sweat, slipping over the thick hair on his thighs.

“Jesus Christ. You feel so fucking good.”

“Mmm.” Words are fleeting. Impossible to latch onto.

Garrison slaps my ass, replacing the first handprints with another. “You like to be a good girl, don’t you, honey? Bad girls don’t take dick this well. No, you’re a good. Fucking. Girl.” Each word is emphasized with a brutal thrust.

I nod, no longer thinking logically. No longer thinking at all about anything other than the raging desire to come and how I can get there as fast as possible.

“I’ve had enough of you taking from me,” he growls before we’re moving, still locked together.

I’m beneath him in a blink, the hot, heavy weight of him pressing over my chest. I go to lock my legs around his waist, but he shakes his head angrily, like he’s pissed at me for riding him as well as I was. Pride flushes through me, my lips curving into a slight smirk.

He grips me beneath both my knees and pushes them forward, up as far as I’ll stretch. The movement opens me up to him in a raw, dirty way, and I cry out at the first thrust in the new position. I trip my head back and nip at the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming again.

“Keep your legs where they are,” he spits before he’s releasing me and his hands are drifting.

One finds home between my legs, his fingers parting me as he goes to work on my clit. My inner thighs quiver as I hold them in place, struggling not to straighten my knees and kick my legs. His other hand shoots forward and palms my breast. It fills his hand and then some, the rest of it pooling beside his fingers.

He licks his lips, pinching my nipple harder than I would usually do it. Sharp shocks of pleasure zip between my legs. “Tell me what you like. What you need and how I can give it to you.”

“You didn’t have a problem last time.”

“Tell me anyway.”

I want to tell him that he already is doing everything I need. I’m on the brink, hanging on the precipice of an orgasm that I fear is going to turn me inside out. Each thrust of his thick cock inside of me and circle rubbed over my clit brings me closer to the end. My lungs scream from the lack of proper breaths, but I can’t find it in myself to care.

I want one thing and one thing only. Nothing else matters.

“My ass,” I breathe, squirming now.

His expression doesn’t shift from that cold hunger as he asks without judgment, “You want me to fuck your ass?”

“Not fuck it. Just put a finger inside.”

My walls clench, fluttering around him. He swallows, pupils flaring even darker, the only show of his interest.

“A finger for now,” he grunts, and then my breast is cold.

While working my clit with one hand, he brings the other beneath where we’re connected, pausing his thrusts just long enough to get his positioning right. His finger brushes the skin between my pussy and ass, stroking the seam of where we connect once before skimming his knuckle over my second hole. I grow tense at that first touch, clenching right around his dick.

“Fucking hell. Relax, honey. I haven’t even gotten my finger in yet.” He strains to get the words out, and I like that. It’s like a drug, having power in the bedroom over a man like Garrison Beckett.

“I’m so close,” I whimper, bucking my hips.

He slides out, leaving me empty and aching before slipping two fingers inside. I moan as he pulls them back out and circles my asshole, getting it wet. One push and he’s buried to the hilt in my selfish pussy once again.

“Garrison,” I warn when he picks up his thrusts, but his fingers continue to circle my ass, never pushing in.

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