Sparktopia Read Online J.A. Huss

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
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I was gentle. Treating her like something sacred and special, which of course she is.

But I don’t want to treat her like something sacred and special right now. I want to flip her over and fuck her from behind the way I did earlier.

Instead, I get a hold of myself and take a deep breath. Then I push my night pants down, revealing my thick, hard cock. She looks at it, tender mouth slightly open, then looks up at me.

“We’re not gonna talk about this, Clara.” I place a hand on her cheek while slipping the other one around to the back of her neck as I take a step forward.

She knows what we’re gonna do instead. She knows what I want. She has put that pretty mouth of hers on the tip of my cock before, kissing it tenderly. A promise of more to come—some day.

But she has never wrapped her lips fully around it and fully taken me in.

And I want that now. I want all of her now. Because this is it. This is the end of us. ‘Some day’ is never coming. I have been a patient gentleman for over a decade and all the things she promised me are now impossible.

None of the ways in which I have imagined myself with her will ever happen.

This one day is all I’ve got left. And I haven’t gotten my fill. I. Want. More.

I don’t ask. I just use the hand I’ve placed behind her neck to guide her forward. She resists for a moment, looking up at me. Questioning me. Questioning herself too.

So I explain. What better way to get what you want than to ask for it? “I want all of you, Clara. You’re mine, and I’m yours. And today, we’re going to take each other in every way possible and we are going to live our dream.”

She knows what this means. She knows this is the end and that she will be walking into that tower at midnight tonight.

I see all the questions in her eyes as she stares up at me. Still crying with tear-stained cheeks and red, puffy eyes.

She’s trying to decide whether or not this is something she will agree to.

There’s a moment here when I figure she’s not going to agree, but in the next moment she takes a breath and decides I’m right. Her resistance to my encouragement fades. Her face comes forward, that pouty mouth of hers open. And when she wraps her lips around the tip of my cock, my head falls back, my hips go forward, and I press her forehead into my stomach.

Immediately, she pulls back, tilting her head up to look at me. Breathing hard and eyes filled with confusion.

It’s too much. I’m asking too much. I am aware of this, but at the same time I don’t wanna stop. So I place my hands on her shoulders and gently urge her to lie back on the bed again.

She resists, but only for a moment. And the moment she gives in, I reward her by dropping to my knees, spreading her legs open, and lowering my face down between her legs.

“Finn.” My name comes out on a shaky breath.

I answer her by dragging my tongue down the middle of her silky underwear. Her back bucks up and her fingers are back in my hair, twisting it up and gripping it with closed fists.

If I want more than she’s willing to give, then I have to give her more than she thinks she wants. I grab her underwear with both hands and rip it off her just like I did her nightgown. She gasps, grasping onto my head with both hands and trying to sit up.

But I’m ready. My hands spread her knees open, my tongue slips between the soft folds between her legs, and this is enough to calm her down. Enough, at least, to make her lie back and begin to relax.

“Oh, my god, Finn. What⁠—”

That’s as far as she gets. Her head is moving back and forth as I hit the pleasure center and then, suddenly, she’s writhing and gripping my hair, and all those inhibitions and insecurities she was feeling just moments ago disappear.

Given a choice, Clara Birch would like to be made love to. Touched tenderly. Worshipped and pampered. She wants it slow and soft.

And I like that. I mean, up until earlier today I hadn’t even tried to be more forceful with her. Hadn’t even pictured it, though I’ve heard Mitchell brag about how he is with his women over the years.

But Mitch likes down-city girls. Girls who did not pledge themselves to the god in the tower as a Little Sister when they were twelve. He fucks girls who like men to do naughty things to them in the dark. Not that they aren’t nice and sweet in their own way, but they weren’t raised to be poised, and proper, and polite.


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