26
SPARK
“I don’t get the weird obsession you have with me that makes you want to fix everything,” Iris says, her eyes filled with fury. “Or the arrogance that makes you think you can make everything all right again.”
“Obsession with you?” I’m confused as fuck. I don’t know why she’s suddenly so angry, but it came on so fast, I’m playing catch-up. “Is that what you think this is? A fucking infatuation? I’m not fourteen, and this isn’t fucking high school.”
“I don’t know,” she says. “But I’m not one of your club girls.”
“You think that’s what I think you are.” My hands itch to slap her ass, course correct her, until she understands that what I feel for her is gasoline and a match.
I thought we were having a good day. The weather was perfect. We were with our friends . . . our family. And yeah, our family. Because the club is embracing her like I do. Gwen already told me how much she likes her. How it will be good to have some younger old ladies in the club.
“I’m outside your clubhouse, making small talk with the old ladies, while you trot off and talk shit with the boys while club . . . hookers, whores, whatever they are, try to seduce you all. And I’m sure when you get horny later, you’ll come find me, and we’ll fuck.”
Yeah. She obviously doesn’t see today the way I do. But there’s more. Something has her rattled. This is so out of character. I want to restrain her. Fuck her. Get beneath the brat yelling at me to see what triggered it all. “Watch your mouth, Iris.”
“No. You watch yours. I’m getting a cab home.”
I grab both her arms. “You aren’t going fucking anywhere until we’re done. First, yeah, you’re outside my fucking clubhouse, because it’s so important to me, I wanted to share it with you. Second, you’re with the old ladies because you know what, I thought you belonged there. And you want to know why I thought you belonged there?”
She fights me, trying to break free of my hold, but I don’t let her. “Let me go.”
Her resistance gets me hard, fast. “I thought you belonged there because this, you and me, feels like a fucking comet burning through the sky. Hot, fast, and so fucking beautiful it’s blinding. You want to use terms you don’t understand? Club whores? Fucking? You want to boil this—you and me, something this fucking beautiful—to that? You don’t know shit, Iris. But I’m going to show you what it feels like to be treated like that so maybe you can start to tell the difference. And then maybe you’ll tell me what really is going on.”
When I throw her over my shoulder, some of the brothers cheer. And I’m too fucking furious to even acknowledge them.
I shove Vex out of my way as he passes through the door.
“What the fu—oh, shit,” he curses.
I storm through the bar.
“And I thought you were hard work,” Clutch says to Gwen as I march past them.
All the while, Iris fights me. She wiggles and squirms and slaps my back and my ass. I barely feel it through my cut. Plus, anger has me insulated from anything she could do.
“You break your hand again, I’m gonna be pissed,” I say as I unlock my door to my room and let her inside. “You remember your safe word. You fucking say rain, or I’m doing whatever the fuck I want.”
To think I was dumb enough to listen to Gwen and clean my room just in case we ended up staying over.
All night, I’ve been thinking about the buttons down the front of Iris’s pink sundress. Must be at least fifteen of ’em. Was thinking about undoing them slowly while I kissed my way down her body, but fuck that shit. That isn’t what she needs right now. I put her on the floor, fist either side of her V neckline in my hands, and rip, tearing the dress apart. The sound of buttons hitting the wooden floor, buttons I would have worshipped right along with her, pisses me off.
“No,” Iris says, her eyes wide and a single tear sliding over her cheek, but I ignore that fucker, even as I ignore the no. Only one word will stop me, and it’s rain.
“Yes, Iris. I’m going to treat you like I would any of those girls out there. And you’re going to behave like one until you say rain. Because they sure as fuck have confidence. They know the score, like sex, and are absolutely unashamed of their own needs. But you. There are depths to your own needs you haven’t touched yet, and I’m going to show you right now until you tell me what the fuck just happened.”
Her chest heaves, her tits hidden behind pale-pink lace triangles. She’s so fucking feminine and soft I can barely breathe.
With her dress wide open, I can see her pink lace panties, and I know what I need to do. I hoist her up against the wall, free my dick, and spit into my palm before rubbing my saliva over the head.
“I’m sorry,” Iris says. “I didn’t realize how much this . . . I . . . meant to you. There’s something I—”
“Too. Fucking. Late.” I slide her panties to one side, then place the head of my dick at her opening. Fuck condoms. I got my test results back. We’re good. “This might hurt. I hope not.” I try to slam home, but she’s so fucking tight, I maybe get a glorious couple of inches in.
We both groan. Her forehead flops onto my shoulder, and her fingertips dig into my biceps.
I withdraw an inch or so, then push back in hard, over and over until her wetness coats us both, easing the entry. I look down and see the pink lace scraping along my length. Hitching her higher, I bite down on her breast though the pretty bra.
Fuck, she’s everything.
“How dare you fucking doubt us,” I grunt as I hammer into her.
I hear her breath against my ear. “Spark,” she moans.
Tensing my ass, I hammer into her, hard and fast like the fucking comet I compared us to.
Burning just as hot and bright.
“Come on my dick, Iris. I want to feel your cunt sucking the life out of me. You’re sorry? Fucking show me.”
She cries out, a frustrated cry of desperation, and I step away from the wall, holding her beneath her arms, lifting her up and down my dick. She starts to grind, rolling her hips, that lace adding friction.
But it’s still not happening for her.
Not that I care. I wouldn’t care if club pussy came or not.
Still, I pull her off my dick and throw her onto the bed. Love those panties, but they need to go. I slide them down her leg, then fucking chow down on her swollen clit. I bite, lick, lap, and suck. I fuck her with my tongue.
“I’m so close,” she cries.
And I spin her over on her stomach, with her knees on the floor, and slam back into her before she can come. Because I’m a greedy fucker, and I don’t want to miss the feel of this orgasm on my dick.
I slap her ass hard, taking my own pleasure from the cry. My handprint blooms red. “You want another of those?”
She shakes her head, even as her cunt clenches around me.
“Then you better come.”
And when she does, it’s a thing of fucking beauty. She’s bent double beneath me. Probably can’t breathe the way I’m crowding over her.
I feel every ripple and vibration of it.