Page 8 of Spark

“Look at that pretty pussy,” he said, nostrils flaring, and glanced up at her. “So wet, Hattie. Fuck, sweetness, I can’t wait to…” He didn’t say any more. He lowered his chest, buried his faced between her thighs, and groaned.

Oh God.

His hands gripped each of her butt cheeks, holding her to him, and he licked right through the center of her.

She cried out. One lick, just one, and she was close to losing control completely.

And it only got better. He licked and sucked and kissed her like he couldn’t get enough. And all the while those big hands held her to him, his fingers flexing, massaging her ass in a way she knew that he liked her curves, that he liked she had a lot of them.

Finally, he slid a finger inside her, and she arched, crying out again as his mouth moved up and he licked her clit. Dex flicked his tongue over it while he pumped that long, thick finger in and out of her, grazing the sensitive spot inside that she knew would get her there even faster.

God, she was so wet, and the way he thrust in and out of her, deep and fast, his mouth still at her clit, her orgasm was already building.

She was close to flying, letting it all go completely. It felt foreign, terrifying. The opposite of everything she’d been doing before she left Phoenix, everything she’d been told to do her whole life. She’d never felt this free, this bold and uninhibited—had never done anything this reckless—and suddenly she couldn’t breathe.

Oh God, her parents could be reading her email right now.

He slid in a second finger, and her thighs started trembling from how good it felt. She fisted his hair as panic rushed through her hard and fast out of nowhere. She tugged his hair, trying to pull him away. She had no idea why—she couldn’t explain it—she just knew that letting herself go with him, letting Dex take her there in a way she knew she never had before, was more frightening than running from home, than leaving her old life and starting again.

But it was too late. Her inner muscles started clenching, pleasure exploding through her, and she started coming hard. She screamed out, his name tripping over her lips on repeat. The grip and release around his fingers was frantic and so intense light flashed behind her eyelids.

And all of it was accompanied by that panic, building and growing inside her, making her cries out of control. A kind of fear she couldn’t explain twisted together with intense, mind-blowing exhilaration, making her come in a way she’d never experienced in her life.

As the last of her orgasm moved through her, she glanced down. Dex was still between her thighs. His fingers were still inside her and his mouth was at her inner thigh, kissing her; his eyes on her.

Hattie struggled to breathe, gasping as she watched him lean in and kiss her belly. He moved up her body, each one of his exhales shaky and rough.

When he was above her, he leaned in and kissed her, giving her a taste of herself on his lips and tongue, and she knew she couldn’t stay. That she needed to leave. Now.

She couldn’t do this. Not with the way her emotions were frayed. Not with the way her body was still singing in a way she never knew was possible.

And when she looked into his eyes, dark and intense, hot and gentle, her panic shot higher.

“Please, let me up,” she whispered. “Please.”

Dex flinched, then he was gone, climbing off her so fast she barely saw him move. He stood by the door, colossal body naked, scarred, still hard. His monster chest was pumping with each of his panted breaths. He lifted his hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you or push you or…” He shook his head, looking confused, worried—God, horrified.

Hattie shook her head. “It’s not you. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s…it’s just…” She didn’t know how to explain it. How could she when she didn’t understand it herself?

“You’re afraid,” he bit out. “I scared you.”

Hattie snatched up her clothes. “No, I just…I need to go.”

He stayed where he was across the room, getting dressed as she quickly did the same. When she was done, he opened his door for her and followed her out.

“You don’t need to—”

“I’m walking you down, Hattie,” he said, pushing the button for the elevator. While they waited, Dex called her a taxi. She listened silently as his deep voice organized her ride home.

His color was high and he looked—God, he looked mortified as they climbed in, but she didn’t know what to say, how to make this right. She just knew she needed to get away, go to her little apartment, climb into bed, and bury her head under the covers.

They stepped into the elevator and Dex stayed on the opposite side, as far from her as he could, gaze aimed at the floor. Suddenly she wanted to cry. What the hell was wrong with her? Was she so messed up, so twisted by her controlling parents that she couldn’t even let herself enjoy sex with a man she chose for herself? Was she so used to them deciding everything for her, down to the men deemed suitable, that she’d suffered an actual panic attack when she realized it was up to her, all of it?

That her decisions were her own—her mistakes were her own.

She glanced at Dex. He still wasn’t looking at her. That urge to cry grew stronger. He didn’t feel like a mistake. Agreeing to go home with him had felt right, more than anything ever had, but now she’d messed everything up. She’d ruined everything, and she’d made Dex feel like crap in the process.

The elevator doors slid open and he walked out, leading her across the foyer and out the door. He crossed his arms, still keeping that space between them, and silently waited with her for her ride to arrive.