Page 30 of Sparks Fly
“Fuck, Mark,” I grasp his hand with my fingers, pressing against him, needing to feel that connection as I thrust towards his heat. “This feels so good,” I tilt my head back, arching my shoulders, giving him every inch of my skin, letting him mark me, letting him own me.
Suddenly he lets go of my hands, standing up, he drags my panties the rest of the way down my legs. “Take that fucking bra off, I want you completely naked,” he commands, stalking over to the bag I sat down when I came home this afternoon. As he fishes through it, he pushes his own boxer briefs off his hips, and I’m rewarded with how much I’ve turned him on. He’s bigger than my ex-husband. This could be uncomfortable, but I’m willing to give it everything I’ve got.
I struggle to take the bra off, and I’m ready to rip the fucker when the hook gives in and lets go. Throwing it on the ground, I give him my full attention again. He’s walking towards me, his hand on his cock, lazily stroking it up and down. The condom package in his hand is like a beacon of light. I can’t look away from what he’s doing, the promise of what’s going to happen to me.
Mark comes to a stop in front of me, ripping the wrapper with his teeth. “Are you sure about this? Once I get this fucking rubber on, it’s over, I won’t be able to stop,” he warns.
“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”
That could be the lust talking, but I don’t care. Right now, I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I watch through slitted eyes as he rolls the rubber on, and then comes down onto the bed, catching himself on his arms.
Going to his elbow, he dips his head, taking my nipple back into his mouth, as he moves his free hand down to my pussy. “Holy shit,” I moan when I feel two fingers make their way inside my heat. “Feels so good,” I push my hips against the invasion, taking him inside, grasping his hair in my fingers and yanking him closer to my tits as he begins working my clit.
Mark
Goddamn, Trish is hot and wet, and so fucking ready for me, I think I could get her off by just letting her thrust against my fingers. Letting her though, would be so empty. Removing my fingers, I use the wetness to coat my cock, before bracing myself against the mattress and taking her in one thrust.
“Mark,” she moans loudly, grasping my shoulders, her nails biting into the straining muscles.
“Son of a bitch, Trish.”
She’s everything I expected her to be. Tight. Warm. Fucking Heaven. Her hands move down my back, denting my ass as she wraps her legs around my waist, holding on tight. I’ve got to move, I’ve got to feel the way she releases me and pulls me back in. Gritting my teeth, I make the withdrawal, closing my eyes and dropping my head to her collar bone, panting against the heated flesh.
“Feels so good, Mark,” she pants along with me, thrusting up against me as I push back in.
Words aren’t needed as we start the push and pull, the thrust and withdrawal, sweat pours down my neck, coating my chest as I work against her. I put one foot on the floor, hooking my arms around her thighs to bring her closer to me. With one foot on solid ground, I can thrust deeper, grind harder against her. “There it is,” I release her thighs, bringing my hands up around her face, grasping the comforter between my fingers. It gives me a little more leverage and lets me get the deepest I’ve been.
“So deep,” she moans in my ear, turning her face in my neck, nipping at my earlobe. “It’s like I can feel you in the back of my throat,” she admits, laying her head back against the covers.
Her hair is wet, sticking to her neck, and her eyes are closed, a dreamy smile on her face. I put that look there, I worked that sweat out of her body, and I made her not care about the hair plastered against her skin. It makes me pick up my pace, grinding against her as I bottom out and then pull back. My hands are now fists against the bed, and I’m using my grip to almost do a pull up into her body. I’m close, too close to stop now.
“Touch yourself,” I grit out between clenched teeth. “I wanna feel you coming around my cock, as I let go.”
She’s obedient and does exactly what I’ve asked her to do. As I feel her body tightening against mine, I let go of the firm grip I’ve had on my pleasure, taking control of her mouth as we both moan loudly. Neither one of us need to wake up the little girl sleeping in the other room. A part of my soul leaves my body and enters hers as I empty myself into her. Never in my life has the sexual release I’ve gotten through the coming together of two bodies felt like this. It’s damn scary, but at the same time I can’t wait to do it again.
In the aftermath, my hips are still pressing slightly into hers, enjoying the aftershocks racking her body against mine. Our breathing is returning to normal, and I’m fighting against sleep. More than anything, we both need a fucking shower.
“Mark,” she whispers.
“Don’t,” I kiss her quickly. “Let’s enjoy what went on here tonight. Let’s not look too deeply into it, and let’s not put a label on anything. It’s whatever we want it to be.”
Her eyes show a flash of relief as I grab her by the wrists and pull her off the bed. I’m ready for two things. A shower, and sleep, and more than anything, I’m ready to wake up in the morning, with the woman I love next to me.
Epilogue
Mark
Christmas Eve at Trish's house looks like a holiday card that someone let Cora art-direct all by herself.
There is tinsel on everything. The banister, the mantle, hell it’s even on the walls. The tree takes up more square footage than is technically reasonable for the size of the living room, and every ornament on it is either handmade, brightly colored, or both. Cora has informed me three times tonight that she and Trish make a new one every year, and that someday there will be so many ornaments they will need two trees, possibly three.
I told her that sounded exactly right.
It's been eight months since the fire. Eight months since I knelt in the grass outside a burning building with the two of them in my arms and understood, what the two of them mean to me. Eight months of dinners and school pickups and dance performances and two weeks ago Cora lost her first tooth and called me before she called anyone else, and I drove over at eight-thirty on a Tuesday night just to see it.
I have the rings in my jacket pocket. I have had them there since this morning, which means they’ve been burning a hole there. Through the drive to Gunner and Amy’s house for the afternoon, through dinner, through Cora's extended and dramatic reading of "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" in which she gave every character a different voice and took her time with it.
Trish is in the kitchen finishing the dishes. I can hear the water running, can hear her humming something low under her breath the way she does when she thinks no one is listening. Cora is next to me on the living room floor in her Christmas pajamas, arranging the cookies she made this afternoon on the plate for Santa with the focus of someone doing precision work.
