Page 71 of The Spark

“Don’t play with me,” he warned, voice hoarse, breath catching.

I bit my lip. “Or what?”

He flipped me onto my back with one swift motion, my breath catching in my throat as he came over me, eyes locked, jaw clenched.

Then his mouth was on me—everywhere.

Kissing me like he was searching for something, like he needed to map every curve again with his lips. He pulled my bra down, sucked one nipple into his mouth, then the other, his tongue swirling, lips hot and open.

I arched, hands in his hair, breath shaking. “Amir?—”

He didn’t stop. His hands slid between my thighs, pulling my panties aside, fingers teasing until I was soaked.

“Look how wet you are,” he murmured against my skin. “All that mouth… but your pussy knew what time it was.”

I cried out when his tongue found my clit—hot, slow, devastating.

He sucked it into his mouth, flicking his tongue in circles until my back bowed off the bed.

His grip tightened on my thighs as I tried to close them, the pleasure too much. He didn’t let me. Just licked me open, slow and nasty, groaning like I was feeding him.

“Amir… I?—”

“You’re close,” he said, eyes meeting mine as his fingers slid inside. “Let go.”

I shattered, thighs trembling, hips rocking as he sucked harder, his beard slick with me, tongue still lapping as I moaned into the sheets.

He kissed his way back up my body, licking his lips, dragging my panties down and off before settling between my thighs again.

He was still hard. Still thick. Still pulsing.

And when he pushed inside me, slow and deep, I couldn’t hold back the sob in my throat.

I gripped his shoulders, wrapped my legs around him, felt every thick inch stretch and fill me.

His breath stuttered in my ear. “You feel like heaven.”

He rocked into me slow at first. Deep strokes that pulled every moan out of my chest. His hands tangled in my hair, lips brushing my cheek, my jaw, my mouth.

“You good?” he whispered.

“Better than,” I breathed.

He flipped me over, dragged me to the edge of the bed, and pulled my hips up until I was on my knees. One hand slid down my spine, the other guided his dick back to my pussy and then he slammed into me, making me cry out.

The sound of his hips slapping against my ass filled the room, raw and rhythmic.

He spanked me—once, twice—just hard enough to make me clench are that dick I loved almost as much as I moved him.

“Who do you belong to?” he rasped.

I couldn’t speak.

He leaned down, lips at my ear, hand sliding under to stroke my clit. “Say it, Amaya.”

“You…You Amir. I—I love you,” I cried, voice trembling, thighs burning.

He froze for half a beat.

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