Page 70 of Gathered Sparkle

My hips lift toward him once more, a silent plea he ignores. I whimper, frustration bubbling up, tangled with need.

“Please, Koen,” I whisper, not just because I need him but because I know he needs this too. Needs to hear me beg for him, needs to know I want this as much as he does. “I was good,” I press, my voice barely more than a breath. “I said it.”

“Shh,” he soothes, his thumb stroking a slow line up my thigh, barely skimming where I need him most. “We’re not done yet. Tell me how smart and capable you are.”

My head swims, a fog thickening around my thoughts. I can’t think, can barely speak. My body is a taut wire, straining, desperate for his mouth to finally give me the relief I need. But I know he won’t move until I give him what he’s asking for.

I try to focus. Try to find words.

“I’m smart,” I parrot, the word tumbling out clumsily as if my brain is no longer connected to my mouth.

So much for being smart.

His lips curve against my skin, and I swear I feel it everywhere. Then his tongue flicks upward, a tease along my slit, and my hips jerk involuntarily as my fingers fly to his hair, gripping the silky strands.

“And what, precious?” His voice is a low vibration against my core. “Finish your sentence.”

I shudder. “Smart and capable.”

“That’s right,” he purrs, his praise molten, dripping over me, seeping into every crack of my soul.

Then, finally—finally—he leans in and licks me for real, his tongue dragging up my slit. The sensation is blinding, a bolt of pleasure that splinters my thoughts into fragments, and a ragged moan rips from my chest.

He groans against me, the vibration sending another wave of heat coiling through me, and I swear I feel him smirk against my skin again—like he knew exactly what this would do to me. Like he loves wrecking me.

“That’s it,” he murmurs between licks as his tongue swirls around my clit, teasing, then retreats to glide through my slit, collecting every bit of my wetness. “So fucking good for me.”

My legs tremble as he laps at me, his mouth alternating between gentle flicks and deep, luxurious strokes that leave me gasping. His hands grip my thighs, holding me open, anchoring me to the earth as I feel myself floating.

“You taste so sweet.” He sucks my clit, the pressure sending sparks through my limbs as my fingers tighten in his hair.

“F-fuck, Koen.” A strangled sound slips from me, broken and needy, and fuck, he loves it because he hums against me, the vibration sending another jolt of heat spiraling through me.

“You’re everything, Novalee.” He speaks it like a vow, like something etched into his very being. “Smart. Capable. Precious.” Each word is punctuated by a flick of his tongue, a glide, a pull.

The tension coils tighter, so tight I feel like I might break apart entirely.

“Let go,” he whispers against me, his breath a rush of heat. A command. A promise. A plea. “You’re safe. You’re worthy. Let me give you this.”

His fingers slide inside me again, curling just right, his mouth working my clit in tandem. The coil snaps, pleasure detonating through me in waves so intense I forget how to breathe.

I don’t even realize I’m moaning his name until I hear it, hear the way it tumbles from my lips like a prayer.

He guides me through it, his fingers easing me down until I’m nothing but a trembling mess beneath him. My chest heaves, and I’m glowing with sweat.

His mouth leaves a kiss against my thigh, right over the bruise he left.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs against my skin as he kisses his way up my body. Something in my chest clenches—sharp and terrifying and so fucking real. “And you’re worthy of every fucking thing I have to give. Do you believe me?”

This time, I don’t hesitate. “I do.”

I need him. I need this.

“Please, Koen.”

His nose brushes against mine, his lips hovering just out of reach, teasing me. But I don’t just want the tease—I want everything.

“What do you need from me? Use your words, precious.”

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