Page 116 of Gathered Sparkle

Deep breath, Sy.It’s for her.

Anything for her.

The thought of her has me zoning out, my mind flashing back to this morning. Her sleepy form tangled in the sheets, her body fitting perfectly against mine, even in sleep. The way her tight little pussy clenched around me, as soft, breathy gasps escaped her lips, while my cock was buried balls deep.

How my mouth found her skin, brushing over her collarbone, gliding up to her throat.

How I felt the flutter of her pulse against my lips, and I let my tongue trace it, tasting her, savoring her.

How I came so hard, I was sure I would wake her.

But I didn’t.

And how when I pulled out, my cum dripped from her pink pussy, a sight I could look at over and over again.

Good thing I took some pictures. I pull up the photo app on my phone and scroll through them.

Goddammit.

Her flushed cheeks, messy hair, the faint bruises from my grip on her hips. The drip of cum gliding down her pussy.Fuck, she’s stunning.

I open our text thread and send them to her, one after another.

Good morning, Sparkle baby. I hope you wake up sore and still dripping from me. I had to head out early, didn’t want to wake you, but I’ll be back soon. Don’t go disappearing, okay? I need you later. Love you.

The words feel natural, even if I’m probably overusing thelove youswith her. But it’s part of the plan.

Desensitizing her to the words.

I don’t expect her to say it back, not yet. I’ll wait until she’s ready when she means it. But I’ve noticed something. The more I say it, the less she tenses or runs. It’s progress. And that’s good for all of us.

Confrontational therapy,or whatever Alaric calls what his therapist told him to do, seems to work. I’ve never seen him like this, not even before Oscar died. He’s calmer now, almost, dare I say, happy. And it’s all because of her.

And yet, she’s still here, still mine. None of my fears came true. She didn’t abandon me or Koen for Alaric. She wants us all. Hell, she even wants the asshole I’m waiting for, and if she wants him, she’ll have him.

Whatever she needs, she gets.

Speak of the devil.

The Mercedes pulls out of the garage and up in front of me. Nicholas kills the engine and steps out, his polished shoes clicking against the pavement. He looks as annoyingly put together as ever—neat suit, hair immaculate—like he’s stepped out of some glossy ad for rich assholes.

“Koen must need his car back badly if he sent you to grab it for him,” Nicholas remarks as he tosses the car keys over the roof of the car. “And you actually agreed to do it?”

Instinctively, I catch them, one-handed, glaring at him as I shove my phone into my pocket. “Koen didn’t send me,Harrington.”

“Oh?” Nicholas’s brow lifts. “Then what brings you to grace me with your presence,Walker?”

“We’re going van shopping.” I toss the keys back. They arc perfectly, landing right in his chest. He catches them with an annoyed huff. “Get in the car, dickhead.”

He hesitates for a beat, then slides back into the driver’s seat with a muttered, “Unbelievable.” I follow, slamming the passenger door with enough force to punctuate my irritation.

The tension between us is palpable as I type the address I memorized into the navigation system.

Nicholas starts the engine. “You want to tell me what the fuck is happening, or are we going to bask in awkward silence all the way there?”

“Drive,” I command, leaning back and crossing my arms, but to my surprise, he does as he’s told.

Good boy.

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