Spark

by J Marie

  long-term trauma, and that if I gave into Darren’s lavish lifestyle, if I accepted the

  gifts and privileges with an open heart, I’d stop seeing the mask he wore; I’d just

  believe it was real. I’d learn to ignore it to the point where I wouldn’t even see the

  lie anymore. I didn’t want to come to accept him, but I didn’t want to feel so angry

  all the time either, so fucking hopeless. I wanted to feel whole, not hollow, but the

  only thing Darren would fill me with was fear. If I allowed him to fill it with

  something else, what would that make me? A traitor? Or a survivor?

  I would never love him, but I needed to supplement my hatred with something

  else. Something I could live with. I just didn’t know what; it would require one hell

  of an admission. And an admission was exactly what Darren wanted. I thought

  about what he’d said after we battled in the snow, about how I couldn’t verbally

  admit to him that I craved his touch. It felt like every word was a descent into Hell,

  and once they were spoken, I could never take them back. Darren would make

  certain they’d haunt me forever. But though it might cost me whatever was left of

  my pride, what would it buy me? Would it bring me progress or would it only be

  used against me? Just thinking about his hands on my body and what he could do,

  what he could make me feel, had me already heating up inside. I knew it was

  obvious that when I gave myself over and submitted to him, my body language

  couldn’t speak the truth any louder than if I had actually spoken it. I wanted the

  pain and the pleasure, but not one without the other. The pain reminded me that

  Darren was a monster, and the pleasure reminded me I could handle it.

  Yes, I could admit that I wanted Darren for the good things he could make me

  feel, for the way my blood rushed when he looked at me, the way my heart skipped

  when he spoke, and the way my core clenched with need every time he touched me.

  My hatred for Darren easily matched my attraction to him, and when I found those

  moments when I could let go of my hatred and focus on what he was doing to me, I

  could forget. And ignorance was fucking bliss.

  So, yes, I wanted him, but I wanted my fucking freedom more.

  Suddenly, a thick arm slid over my middle and yanked me up from the floor,

  causing my earbuds to rip from my ears and my card house to crumple. I pulled my

  legs in and clung to Darren’s arm and shoulder, gasping in shock as he hauled me

  over to the bed and slammed me down on top of it. I managed to swing my legs

  around his hips and clasped my feet together to prevent him from getting much

  closer. I could already feel the anger rushing from him in waves, and I wasn’t ready

  for that tsunami just yet.

  “Darren, wait!” I screeched as I tried to push against his chest to gain space. He

  quickly grabbed my wrists and pinned them to my sides. I felt the heat blooming

  inside me already, my body preparing for what was to come. Literally.

  “You wanted pain, remember?” he hissed, the lust in his voice unmistakable.

  “I changed my mind,” I said quickly.

  A low deep chuckled vibrated up Darren’s throat and caused the hair on my skin

  to stand.

  “You made your bed, princess. It’s time to sleep in it,” he finalized.

  “But that’s not what you want,” I countered, trying to keep my voice from

  shaking.

  His eyes found mine and penetrated everything I was about to reveal … and it

  was going to kill me inside.

  “You want me to admit that I want you,” I continued carefully. His chin tilted up

  an inch as he regarded me, an eyebrow lifting and waiting for me to continue. I

  swallowed back the desert that had claimed my mouth, trying to find the strength

  to say the words that might ruin me completely. “And I do.”

  Darren’s eyes darkened, the shadows of his brow intensifying his gaze on me to

  the point that I thought I was going to suffocate, but I couldn’t look away. I had to

  meet him head-on. I had to prove my admission even if it destroyed me.

  Darren’s grip on my wrists tightened until I could no longer feel them, and I

  couldn’t help but release a small gasp of pain. He then lowered his face to mine.

  “And what brought on this little conclusion?” he asked, his voice low and deep.

  “I know it’s what you want.”

  His grip loosened, his hands cascading up my arms until they cupped my face,

  lighting my skin on fire, inside and out. Darren’s forehead touched mine, his nose

  grazing along the bridge of my own before he spoke again.

  “So you’re finally admitting what I already know?” he asked me. God, he was

  barely containing himself; I could feel it.

  I felt my breath catch as he pressed his pelvis between my legs, the pressure

  increasing just enough to make me want more. That was what I wanted. I wanted a

  free pass to the train leaving denial land straight into the guilt-free zone. I wanted

  him for one purpose and one purpose only—to pleasure me in his world of pain and

  anguish so I could forget the reason I was there.

  “Yes,” I murmured, pushing myself into him. I wanted so much fucking more.

  “I want more. I want you to make me feel so good, I can’t even stand it.” My voice

  was hurried and lustful, and I didn’t wait another second before launching from the

  bed and claiming Darren’s lips for my own.

  I kissed him with more passion than I thought I had in me. I locked my arms

  around his neck, pulling him to me, but it was more me pulling myself to him.

  Darren’s mouth met mine with just as much ferocity, and the moment he parted

  his lips, my tongue dove in, being the first to conquer and claim all it could touch.

  Darren moaned into my mouth, pressing himself harder into me before he finally

  lifted us up, turned and laid himself face up on the bed.

  My legs straddled either side of his thickly muscled torso, my hands gripping his

  shirt while Darren’s gripped my hips, keeping me in place. When I got the message,

  Darren’s hands traveled higher, clutching the hem of my sweater and yanking it up

  over my head where it was tossed unceremoniously to the floor. When it was gone, I

  dipped back down to continue kissing him like I suddenly couldn’t get enough of

  his lips on mine. Never breaking our kiss, his hands inched around my back,

  unclasping my bra with a small pinch of his fingers where it followed the same fate

  of my sweater.

  The moment my breasts were bare, Darren gripped my sides and lifted my chest

  toward his face, giving him all the access he needed to take my aching nipples into

  his hot, wet mouth. I gasped aloud, a moan not far behind as Darren’s mouth

  sucked and tongued at my pebbled flesh, making the pressure in my clit pulse with

  more need than ever before. His free hand palmed my other neglected breast,

  squeezing and kneading, eliciting more moans from my mouth.

  My nails dug into his shoulders, and I suddenly realized he was still clothed.

  That wouldn’t do. Not after what I had just admitted. My hands snaked over his

  wide chest to begin pulling at his sweater, inching it up from under me until he got

  tired of my struggles. Launching his upper body off the bed at me, his kept an arm

  around my waist to ke
ep me from falling off before reaching back and pulling his

  sweater and attached t-shirt up over his head, revealing all that hard muscle

  underneath.

  “Is this what you wanted?” he asked huskily as the sweater and t-shirt joined

  my own clothes.

  “Yes, thank you,” I breathed and went back to kissing him.

  He kissed me back, groaning as my hands traveled up and down his torso, my

  fingers running over each hard line of his abdomen before sliding back up to his

  deliciously smooth chest. Laying himself back down, Darren gripped my hips and

  pulled them closer to his chest, his strong fingers digging into the stretchy material

  of my leggings. It only took him a second to rip the stitching apart to reveal the

  bare and swollen flesh between my legs.

  “Oh, fuck yes,” Darren groaned and then lifted my hips to place my aching slit

  right over his waiting mouth.

  “Oh, fuck!” I cried out as his tongue began assaulting my clit.

  A swift smack on my ass followed, jerking me from my moment of

  transgression. Darren swallowed my clit whole, and the small flame now burning in

  the cheek of my ass only further enticed me, making me burn all over. I gripped the

  top of the wooden headboard, my Christmas clad nails ready to pop off at any

  moment if I dug any harder, but I desperately needed something to hold. Darren’s

  tongue continued to lap at my entire slit, flicking it in all the right places until I

  thought I was going melt into his mouth and drown him.

  My breathing increased, my blood rushed, and if I didn’t calm myself down, I’d

  be dizzy with pleasure. But that was technically what I asked for, wasn’t it? I could

  feel my release coming, ready to burst at any moment, yet somehow Darren knew.

  He always knew. The bastard could read my own body better than I could. And he

  loved to torture me with that knowledge because as I bucked and jerked from the

  impending pleasure, he slowed his tongue to a teasingly slow pace. I could have

  punched him.

  “Darren!” I cried out, my voice agitated and thick with lust as I pleaded with him

  to finish me.

  “You said until you can’t stand it,” he hissed, his tongue dragging agonizingly

  slow through my folds.

  “And I’m there!” I nearly shouted, my back arching from the torture.

  “I’m not even close to finished,” he murmured hungrily. He had me going, and

  now, he wanted to take his time. Well, fine. I could play this game.

  Leaning back just a little, my hand grazed against the giant bulge in his pants,

  gripping and stroking him just the way he liked. That didn’t last very long.

  In a split second, Darren had propelled himself up, taking me and my tortured

  clit with him until I found myself on my back at the opposite end of the bed.

  Growling but never wavering from his task, Darren gripped my wrists and held

  them over my hips, pinning me down while he continued his slow and deliberate

  onslaught.

  I cried out in frustration, doing my best to pull my wrists from his hands, but I

  knew the only way they would be free is if he allowed them to be. Instead, I was

  forced to suffer and writhe under him, the pleasure emanating from his tongue

  driving me fucking mad.

  “Please, Darren, please,” I begged, my hips attempting to arch up to meet his

  strokes, but he kept me down. Everything would happen at his pace, when he

  decided, with zero room for deviation or compromise. I was his to do with as he

  pleased, and for some reason, I was still fighting that. I was not a toy, and if there

  was anything I could fight and escape from, it was that. I was more. So much more.

  “How badly do you want to come?” he finally asked me.

  “More than I want air,” I replied, my voice straining under the light pressure of

  his tongue.

  Just then, he sucked my clit into his mouth, and I shuddered from how

  agonizingly close I was. Just a little more.

  “Tell me what I want to hear,” he drawled against my scorching flesh before

  taking a long, thick lick up my slit.

  “Oh, God,” I moaned. “I belong to you.”

  Those words were my escape, my key to the heavy door blocking my release, and

  when they were spoken, it was like the drawbridge had been lowered, and I was

  free. Free to come as hard and as long as I wanted. And that was exactly what

  Darren gave me.

  Instantly, the pressure of his tongue increased, and he zoned in on every pulsing

  inch of my pussy. I came in a matter of seconds, pleasure bursting from within until

  I could barely breathe, and even then Darren did not relent. He pushed me past the

  brink of the first orgasm until I was screaming from the second. I hadn’t even

  realized Darren had stopped until his face was hovering above mine and his cock

  buried inside me. And even then, the pleasure kept coming. His cock honed in on

  my G-spot, bumping and stroking exactly where he needed to be.

  I moaned so loudly I was sure the whole house could hear it. My hands curled

  around Darren’s arms, holding myself together as he pounded into me with enough

  force to throw me from the bed. And I fucking loved it. After a few more strokes, he

  lifted one of my legs over his shoulder, giving himself an even deeper angle, and

  suddenly, everything intensified.

  My nails dug into his skin almost purposely, as if I wanted to mark him myself. I

  knew I’d be feeling this later, and I wanted Darren to have the same reminder when

  he looked in the mirror. In the midst of it all, my eyes found Darren’s, and I

  couldn’t ignore the electrical current flowing between our bodies. Sparks ignited in

  my head, giving charge to the blood still pumping into my clit, creating the most

  delicious sensitivity. And there it was again—my body on the verge of a third

  explosion.

  “Oh, God!” I moaned, arching myself into him again.

  Darren sat up more, placing one foot on the floor and repositioning me so he

  could fondle my chest without interrupting his pace. He pinched my nipples,

  rolling them between his thumb and forefinger, and I swore I could taste blood in

  my mouth. I’d taken me a minute before I realized I had been biting my lip.

  “Fuck!” Darren groaned as his thrusts became harder, hinging his own release

  on mine. And those few extra strokes were all it took for that third orgasm to burst

  through my already conquered fortress. I could feel my walls clamping around

  Darren, squeezing him for all he was and nearly shoving him off the edge. We came

  together, our moans mixing to form one sound of ultimate pleasure. And when it

  was over, Darren collapsed on top of me, his heated and heavy body covering mine

  while he drifted from the high of his orgasm.

  I was busy catching my breath, trying to calm down from everything that had

  just happened. Fuck, what have I done?

  After a moment, Darren rolled off me, and I quickly excused myself to the

  bathroom.

  When I came back with my teeth and hair brushed, I found Darren packing my

  cards back into their little box. He’d put on a pair of black sweatpants that hung low

  on his hips, giving me a perfect view of that hard v of his abdomen. I suddenly felt

  too exposed and grabbed the black silk robe
hanging from the bedpost, wrapping it

  around my now cold body. I hunched my shoulders and rubbed my arms for

  emphasis.

  “You didn’t eat your dinner,” Darren said as he sealed the cards into the box.

  “Wasn’t hungry,” I replied with a shrug.

  “What are the rules?” he countered, his eyes piercing me with a challenge.

  I sighed. Fucking five-year-old rules. “Not to leave the table until my plate is

  clean.”

  “And now, you’re not going to leave my lap until it’s clean.”

  “Huh?” But that was the only word I got out before he picked me up, threw me

  over his shoulder, and walked over to the table by the Christmas tree.

  I groaned. “One day, I’m going to make you regret picking me up like this.” I

  always hated being carried this way. It didn’t matter how meaty Darren’s shoulders

  were. They still pushed into my stomach, and it was beyond uncomfortable.

  “And you’ll regret it even more if you try,” he said, swatting me on the ass.

  I rolled my eyes. He couldn’t see them from back here.

  It only took him a few strides to get to the table, lowering me onto his lap as he

  sat down. Darren then lifted the lid to my dinner to reveal roasted chicken and

  potatoes and mixed vegetables. Working around me, he cut everything into tiny

  bites, and I couldn’t help but smile. It was kind of funny that he was taking into

  consideration I preferred my bites smaller than his. He forked a piece of chicken

  and held it up to my lips.

  “Open,” he ordered.

  I complied and parted my lips to take his offering. Even though the chicken was

  now lukewarm, it was still damn good. I chewed quickly while he began spearing a

  few vegetables with the fork.

  “I can feed myself, you know,” I muttered, covering my mouth with my hand as

  I swallowed.

  “Obviously not. Now open.”

  Pursing my lips in protest, I let it go and opened them to accept the veggies.

  They were crunchy and a bit salty—just the way I liked them. Darren feeding me

  like this was strange. I almost felt pampered, like a precious thing to be cared for

  and cherished, and I didn’t know if I liked it. I was too independent for this kind of

  shit. But whatever; he was being nice to me, so I should accept it.

  Darren held another forkful of potatoes to my lips, but I covered my mouth,