Page 73 of Gathered Sparkle

“Color?” he demands, his gaze searching mine.

I know what he’s really asking.

And I don’t just want this.

I fucking need it.

A slow smile curls my lips, a promise, a dare, a challenge. “Fucking green.”

He growls in approval, his hands gripping my hips as I start to move again. I rise, feeling every inch of him drag against mywalls, stretching me, teasing me, leaving me empty for just a heartbeat. Then I slam back down, taking him all at once, the force of it stealing my breath.

A choked moan tears from my throat, my head falling back.

Fuck. Fuck.

His cock hits so deep, the friction so perfect, that pleasure arcs through me like lightning, my body tightening, burning, desperate for more.

“Yes.” Koen’s hands slide up my waist, savoring the way I take him. “Fuck, just like that.”

I set a rhythm, riding him hard and fast, the slap of our bodies filling the room. The sound is filthy, hypnotic.

My thighs burn, the muscles shaking, but the pleasure drowns out everything else, driving me, keeping me locked in the motion, in the push and pull of us. The way he looks at me—like I’m something holy, something he’d worship for eternity—makes me want to give him more. I’ve never felt like this. Never felt wanted like this—like I belong in someone’s hands, in someone’s bed, like I’m meant to be fucked this way.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he pants out, his voice coming apart at the seams. His fingers tighten, his grip a brand on my skin. “Fucking yourself on my cock. Taking everything I give you.”

The praise fuels my fire, igniting something reckless and wild inside me. So, I ride him harder, chasing the edge, chasing the fall, wanting to drag him with me, to pull him under until there’s nothing left but us.

My clit grinds against his pelvis. Each thrust sends me spiraling higher, tighter.

So close.

“Stop.”

I obey, freezing mid-grind.

Koen’s head falls back against the pillow, his jaw clenched so tightly I can see the muscle twitch. A ragged groan rips from his throat, his fingers flexing against my hips like he’s fighting every instinct in his body not to flip me over and fuck me senseless.

“I’m too close,” he grits out.

My chest heaves as I delight in his struggle, the way his entire body is straining with need, and a slow, wicked smile spreads across my lips.

I love wrecking him.

I love knowing I can.

“It’s fine.” I drag my nails down his chest, then farther, watching his abs tense beneath my touch. I drop my mouth to his, barely brushing my lips against his when I whisper, “I want you to fill me up.”

The sound that rips from his throat is pure tortured bliss.

But then he locks eyes with me and smirks. “Soon. But someone told me she wants to sit on my face.” His hands clamp down on my waist as he shifts me, pulling me off his dick. He positions me above his face, his breath hot against my inner thighs. “Come here,” he growls out, his hands guiding me down, his voice pure fucking sin.

His tongue flicks out, teasing me, and his grip tightens on my thighs, holding me exactly where he wants me.

I gasp, my hands flying to the headboard for balance as he devours me.

Not gentle. Not teasing. Not patient.

Fucking hungry.

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