Page 50 of Spark of Madness

Hair he called the color of starlight.

Hair he said smelled like wildflowers.

I don’t think any part of me has ever been compared to such beautiful things.

In service, I’ve been called names—cunt, whore, slut—and parts of me have been referred to as fuckholes, and were used as such. I’ve been told my hair was good for pulling; I’ve been told I smelled like a good little bitch.

To have a part of me compared to wildflowers and starlight in the midst of such sinful lust...it’s a sentiment more incredible than I can even begin to describe. Emotion swells in my chest, a deep, longing ache for more of that feeling overwhelming my heart as his body touching every part of mine overwhelms my senses.

“Come,” I breathe. “Come for me, please. I want you to.” I really do want him to—something I’ve never wanted for a man before. I want him to feel pleasure for the joy he’s just sparked inside me. “You can use me. Any part of me. I won’t tell a soul.”

His grip on my hair tightens as his thrusts sharpen. I feel it swell as if he were inside me because every pulse of him along my hip pulses through my clit just the same. I’m so close, so quickly—quicker than ever before—and more powerfully than ever before.

He thrusts. He pants. He groans.

And as my climax looms, my clit swelling and aching, he shoves me over the edge with a whisper, “Come for me, starlight.”

A sob escapes me as I come—as he comes with me—and he swallows it with a deep kiss over my shoulder. The pleasure peaks and my body trembles, quaking in waves that ripple out and back, out and back.

He groans into my mouth as his hips falter in their rhythm, turning him frantic. He bites my bottom lip as a strangled moan chokes him—and it chokes me, too. I feel like I can’t breathe.

His hips surge forward at the peak of his release, and then he stills, his chest rising and falling heavily against my back as we pant together, as we come down from the high together.

Stay.

Stay in this moment with me.

Stay with me.

Arlo can’t hear my silent pleading for him to remain in this bliss for just a little longer. He releases his grip on me slowly, gradually loosening. I feel him pull away, and I allow my gaze to fall to my side, watching as he drags his cock away, letting it slip through the silk, and wipe the remnants of his release all over it.

My body slumps as he steps back fully, and though he’s still panting from exertion, I hear him already working the buckle of his belt, already leaving me alone in my bliss, and preparing to steal me from it entirely.

Slowly, I turn, pressing my back to the wall, slipping down until I sit on the floor, legs stretched out before me. Glancing down, I see my dress is ruined beyond repair. I lift my chin to look at Arlo, terrified of what I’ll find in his expression. He’s already put himself together again so quickly, tucked and fastened, looking as sharp as always…except for the red flush around his gorgeous lips from kissing me and the way his thick hair is tousled from our movement.

His head inclines and he watches me for a beat as he catches his breath. Then he steps over me, straddles my legs with his feet on either side of my knees. He crouches to his haunches so abruptly that it makes me gasp.

He pulls the leather glove off his right hand. I hadn’t realized he’d still been wearing them while he fucked my silky dress. His blue eyes flicker across my face, and I stare into them deeply, watching as he processes something in his mind.

What is he thinking?

With his gloved hand, he reaches out to lightly lift my chin. With the other—and without looking away from my eyes—he reaches down to the smeared, stained fabric and swipes his thumb down, collecting some of the white residue.

He lifts that hand, his eyes darting to my lips as his tongue sneaks out to swipe across his own. Then he touches his thumb to my bottom lip, pressing in, slowly swiping his cum from one corner to the other.

A puff of breath escapes my parted lips at the feel of it and the way he claims me. At least it feels like he’s claiming me, though I know that could never be the truth.

“Don’t tell a soul, sinner. Promise me this will be our dirty little secret, and perhaps we can sin again.”

His words are abhorrent. He knows what we did was wrong; he knows consequences would find him for this. I should tell...I should shout it down the hall and let them end him for this.

But, as sick as it is, I don’t want that.

Iwanthim to sin with me again. They could punish him for this, but it won’t change my fate. If they insist on putting me through the trials—insist on ending my life and sending me to hell—then at least I can take his corrupted soul along with mine.

I nod slowly, feeling degradation and sin settle inside me for wanting anything from him so much that I would lie for his sins—when he isn’t man enough to lie for mine.

He leans forward and presses a kiss to my cum-covered lips, then pulls back and licks them clean. Heat flashes through his eyes, sparking a fire within me that burns so bright and hot that it forces my shame to creep from the darkness and flee from the inferno.

---