Sparktopia Read Online J.A. Huss

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors: J.A. Huss Advertisement1

Advertisement2

“Are you tired, Clara?”

“No.” It comes out before I can think about it. Because I don’t want this to stop. I want it to keep going. I want it to last forever.

“I am.” He sighs these words out as he reaches forward and grabs my shoulders, guiding me to stand back up.

My eyes close and my shoulders drop as a sigh of frustration escapes before I can stop it. Hope drains. Desire blooms. And this is it. Maybe he’s too drunk to finish.

I’m no stranger to this outcome. The boys my age need the drink to get the nerve. And they don’t understand that line between too much and not enough.

But I do.

And I know how to get what I want out of them, even when they don’t.

I want Finn Scott inside me tonight. And I need him hard in order to satisfy this lust of mine.

I reach behind me until my fingertips find his belt. His lips press up against my neck, his mouth kissing my earlobe as he whispers encouragement. “Yes. Keep going. Make me want you.”

Once the belt is unbuckled, I unbutton his pants, opening them up. He’s rock-hard inside his undershorts and I pause, closing my eyes as I let my hands explore his tight bulge.

Finn becomes impatient, breathing heavy into my ear as his hands take over, pulling himself out and placing the full length of him between my palms. He squeezes my hands, forcing me to squeeze him. Then my head falls back onto his shoulder as we both begin the back-and-forth rhythm of sex.

He’s kissing my neck, driving me crazy, and my hands go faster, making him moan. He nips the tender skin just below my ear and I hiss, but this just makes him chuckle.

I want more. It’s almost an uncontrollable need. So I bend back over the couch and spread my legs as far as they will go with my underwear still binding my thighs. Almost cutting into my flesh.

Finn lets go of my hands, then takes each of them and spreads my arms wide across the back of the couch. I’m panting, waiting, lusting, grinding my hips and thrusting them backwards, inviting him to enter me.

But he laughs, and I recognize the sound of a man pleasuring himself. “Oh, you are very fuckable, aren’t you? And I would love to. But if I give you what you want tonight, Clara, you might not come back for more.”

Then the hotness squirts all over my back, and he’s moaning, and my own fingers have to slip between my legs and move through the slippery wetness because I refuse to leave here without another climax.

There is combined moaning, and writhing, and then he’s spinning me around, kissing me. His mouth hard and forceful against mine. He grips my breasts, walking me backwards around the couch, and then he shoves me down into it.

“Yes,” I moan, looking him straight in the eyes.

“No.” He looks me straight back. Then he collapses into the couch cushions, his arms around me as he slides to the side, lying down. His pants open, his dick still hard, semen on my backside, my underwear still at my thighs, the wetness practically dripping down my legs.

And he holds me like this—captive, willing, mostly satisfied, yet craving more—and falls asleep.

I stay absolutely still, wondering how humiliated I would be in the morning if I rubbed myself against his thigh and got off just one more time before I leave.

In the end, I don’t. I get up, straighten myself out, not even caring if he’s watching—but he isn’t. He’s out—and walk over to the room I came for.

The door is still slightly ajar, but I push it wide open and look up and around at what I know to be the Looking Glass.

I memorize it. The sleek black glass of the circular desk in the middle of the room. The glass panels in the shape of triangles that cover every bit of the circular room as well as the domed ceiling. It’s very different than the room Auntie showed me, but that’s good. She said that one was outdated and this one wasn’t.

It’s certainly looks to be in working condition to me. Though, what it does, I have no idea. But I’m not supposed to know what it does. I’ve only been tasked with finding it. And that mission had been accomplished.

As for the message she wanted me to find? Well. I think maybe she had wrong information. There is no paper in here. There are no pencils. I did find that stuff out in the desk but there were no messages written on the notepads.

So I’m not sure what the message is all about.

Still, I feel like this is enough.

I have found the the room she was looking for.

I have succeeded.

My name will be in the history books.


Advertisement3

Advertisement4