Page 50 of The Spark

I pulled my fingers out slow, brought them to my mouth, and licked them clean. Every drop.

She finally looked at me.

And I kissed her—deep, slow, hungry.

The rest of the movie,she didn’t sit still.

Her hand rested in my lap, fingers brushing my thigh. Then sliding higher. When Mattie rode Stack, she palmed me through my sweats, soft at first, then firmer, like she knew exactly what she was doing. She kissed my jaw. Stroked me slow.

I hissed through my teeth, trying to keep it together, but my head fell back. She stroked me the way I fucked her—smooth, deep, just enough twist at the top to make me twitch. It took everything in me to pay attention to the horror of the film, to really dig deep into the brilliant masterpiece, but her presence and the memory of her touch pressed upon me with every breath I took.

By the time the credits rolled, we were both wrecked.

We didn’t makeit to the bed.

As soon as we stepped into my apartment, I pressed her to the counter, flipped up the sweatshirt, and dropped to my knees.

She was soaked again. Still sensitive.

But I didn’t give her time to protest.

I opened her with my tongue and sucked her clit slow, deep, savoring every inch of her.

“Fuck, Amir?—”

“I’m not stopping,” I growled. “I need to taste you again.”

Her back arched, her thighs clenched around my head, and when I slid two fingers into her and sucked harder, she came again—loud, shaking, one hand gripping the edge of the counter while the other pushed my head deeper into the wetness of her.

I stood, pulled her against me, and lifted her onto the marble. She wrapped her arms around my neck, still breathless.

I freed myself, thick and leaking, and slid into her in one stroke.

We both groaned.

Her heels dug into my back. My hands gripped her thighs.

I fucked her hard and slow, the way she liked it—deep enough to make her eyes roll, slow enough to feel every pull, every squeeze, every tremble.

Her arms tightened. “Amir…”

“Yeah, baby.”

“I’m gonna—fuck?—”

“I got you.”

She came around me hard, clenching like she didn’t want to let go, and I followed—my cum deep and hot, burying myself in her as our bodies locked together, breath tangled, hearts racing.

We collapsed on the couch after, half-dressed, limbs intertwined.

She laid her head on my chest, her fingers tracing idle circles over my skin.

I pulled the hoodie down over her bare thighs and kissed her temple.

Neither of us spoke. We didn’t have to.

Our actions said everything.

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