Page 126 of Gathered Sparkle

His head tilts back like he’s been hit. A groan rips from his throat, and he drags a hand through his messy hair like he’s trying to physically keep himself tethered. “Jesus, baby,” he rasps, his voice wrecked.

Before I can react, he surges forward so fast I have to step back, and he nearly fumbles, shoving his jeans down. His hands are jerky, desperate like he’s too far gone to function properly. His urgency makes me chuckle.

He’s already hard, thick, and flushed, his tattooed tip glistening.

I sink to my knees in front of him, and the second I do, he lets out the filthiest, neediest sound I’ve ever heard from him, a sound that shouldn’t be so fucking hot but is.

His fingers are suddenly in my hair, too tight, almost painful, but I love it.

I breathe warm air against his cock, teasing him, watching the way his abs flex and thighs tighten beneath my palms. “You ready,hubby?” I purr, running my tongue slowly along the underside of his shaft, letting my saliva coat him.

Then I wrap my lips around the tip, swirling my tongue in slow, deliberate circles, and his whole body jolts like I just short-circuited his brain.

“Shit, Sparkle,” he chokes out, his voice shaking. “That feels…” He barely gets the words out before his breath stutters, a wrecked groan spilling from his lips. “Fuck-fu—” His jaw clenches so hard it looks painful, and his fingers spasm in my hair.

I hum around him, and his reaction is instant. His hips jerk forward, his control snapping for just a second before he manages to rein himself in, his entire body locked tight with the effort.

I bob my head, taking him deeper with every stroke, my saliva slicking his cock until it glistens, my hand wrapping around the base to stroke what my mouth doesn’t reach. The mint still makes my mouth flood, and the wet, lewd sounds echo in the room—slick, sloppy, and utterly obscene. Spit drips from my lips, sliding down my chin.

“Holy fuck,” he groans. “It’s so fucking wet. You’re so goddamn filthy, baby.” His breath hitches as he looks down like he’s witnessing something life-altering as saliva pools at the corners of my lips, smearing down his shaft as I take him deeper.

I let him have his moment, then slowly pull back, his cock slipping from my mouth with a wet pop. The sheer wreckage in his expression makes my thighs clench. His lips part on a ragged breath, and spit clings to the tip of his cock, a thin string still connecting us.

His entire body is shaking.

Spit dribbles from my chin, and I let it drip messily onto him before taking him back into my mouth.

And then he moves.

Too fast. His hands are back in my hair, gripping, his pupils nearly swallowing the silver of his irises as he pulls me forward, almost like he’s chasing my mouth.

I brace a hand on his stomach and pull back. “Ah-ah,” I murmur, a teasing edge in my voice, but there’s steel underneath. “Slow down.”

He blinks like he’s trying to resurface, trying to stop himself from completely losing control. His chest heaves, his fingers twitching against my scalp.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he breathes out. His hands loosen, and he drags them down my arms, squeezing like he needs to ground himself. “Fuck, you’re gonna kill me, Sparkle.”

“Nope, surviving. Remember?”

He chuckles when I lean in and lick up his dick again. “I need to brand this view into my brain.” Then I take him deep. “Jesus. Fucking. Christ.”

A grin curls my lips as I slowly pull back. His cock slips from my mouth with a wet pop, and he lets out a tortured groan.

“Don’t worry,hubby,” I tease, “I’m going to document this for ourwedding album.”

I pull out his phone from his jeans that are still half on, open the camera, and let his cock rest against my lips, my tongue peeking out to tease the underside. I angle the camera just right and snap a selfie that will haunt him for-fucking-ever, his thick length glistening with my spit against my mouth, making the star on his tip appear deep black.

He groans like a man on the verge of a breakdown. “Holy-fucking-shit, baby.”

“It’s a masterpiece, really.” I glance at the photo, satisfied with the filthiness of it, the sheen of saliva on my chin, the lust-drunk look in my eyes, the flushed, hard proof of how much he wants me. Sylus is fucking wrecked, and it’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

So, I turn the phone around to show him, and his jaw drops.

“Jesus,” he croaks, his hips twitching like he’s fighting the urge to thrust into the air. “That’s… that’s fucking criminal. You’re a menace.”

I wink, throwing the phone onto the bed, letting my fingers trail down his cock, wrapping around the base. “You love it.”

“I do.” He laughs a shaky, breathless sound. “I really fucking do.”

---