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Amber to Ashes (Torn Hearts #1) Page 118
Author: Gail McHugh

I gasp at the double stimulation. Groaning, he runs his lips along my collarbone, the curve of my jaw, eventually resting them over each of my eyelids as he kisses them.

“Do you hear me, beautiful girl?” he whispers gruffly. “I’m gonna fuck you mindless until all you can remember is what I feel like buried inside this.” He presses the pad of his thumb against my swollen clit, circling it before pushing a finger inside me. “Sweeter than sweet . . . peach.”

My walls clench around his finger, a moan shooting past my lips as he removes it from me.

Smirk returning, his voice is soft as silk as he presses his mouth to my ear, licking my lobe. “I’m being the gentleman my mother raised by giving you fair warning that, well, honestly, I’m about to fucking unhinge you from reality. Consider it . . . gone.”

He brushes his nose against the hollow of my neck and slowly inhales, his grip around my thigh laced with fervent ardor as he once again thrusts his hips forward, this time completely breaching the barrier of my warmth. Dizzy, my eyes roll back, my hips bucking of their own accord. The pleasure only lasts a second, though, devastation falling from my mouth in the form of a gasp as his rigid length slips from me faster than I can blink.

He kisses my lips, the languid caress of his tongue destroying the last remnants of my control as he releases my leg from his hold. “But before I fuck you into submission”—flecks of promise flash bright in his eyes—“I gotta grab a condom.”

Impatience hurdles through me, tightening my chest. “No, Ryder.” I swallow, and glance at Brock.

Watching us carefully and continuing to stroke himself, Brock nods, the knowing look in his eyes giving me permission to proceed.

“I don’t want anything separating us,” I go on, not an ounce of hesitation in my words as I twine my arms around Ryder’s neck. “I want to feel you. Need to feel all of you. I’m on the pill, and Brock and I trust you if you say you’re cool. If you’ve been tested and are clean, there’s no reason to use a condom. No reason for us to not fully become . . . one.”

He doesn’t respond with words. No, he answers with his body, kissing me deeper, harder, each desperate stroke of his tongue etching his untamed passion for me across the sky. Without breaking the kiss, he drops his hands to my ass, hoists me from the ground, and in one swift movement, pulls me down onto his cock. Unable to believe how amazing he feels, I whimper into his mouth, our bodies moving in sync as he bounces me up and down his thick, rigid length. With another whimper, I tighten my legs around his waist, his piercing hitting deep within my core.

Knowing we’ve broken all the rules, not a single line left to cross, and convinced I’ll never get enough of him, my grip around Ryder’s neck tightens, my fingers knotted in his hair as I rip my lips from his and pull back, gazing into his hungry eyes. With nothing but the sound of our heavy breathing curling through the room, a mountain of emotions rains down upon us, releasing its energy into the heated air before redepositing its potency through our limbs. Time stops, halting everything outside of this moment. There’s nothing left. Only the warmth of his body as he slows his rhythm, the strong security of his arms as he grips my bottom tighter, and the steady pounding of his pulse as he feathers his lips over mine. Staring into my eyes as though I’m the only thing that matters, the absolute center of his existence, Ryder kisses me, each soft, slow sweep of his tongue opening my heart to him even more.

Beautiful and torturous all at once, thoughts resurface, my mind flashing with every memory of him asking me to kiss him, to touch him, every stolen glance and agonizing second we spent aching to taste each other when we knew we shouldn’t. In an instant, it all merges, blurring into images I cling to, but equally fear. What was once simply lust for us is now exploding into something deeper, the magnitude of what it was nothing compared to what it’s morphing into.

I milk every glorious inch of him as his pace picks up, pounding into me with brutal force.

“Yes,” I grit out, needing the pain as a punishment for ever thinking I could do this without developing feelings for him. “Harder, Ryder. Fuck me harder.”

Eyes prowling every crevice of my face, Ryder pumps into me once, twice, three times, completely burying himself to the hilt. He stays there a second, his gaze fastened to mine, before lifting me clear up off him only to slam me back down in the same breath. My head jerks back with a cry as he ravishes my neck with an urgency I’ve never experienced, not even with Brock.

“Christ, you feel fucking incredible,” he snarls, sparking nerve endings I never knew existed. “So goddamn perfect, peach. I could fuck you for days without needing anything else but this sweet pussy.” His free hand digs into my backside. “And I don’t care what Brock thinks. Your pussy was made for me. Not him.”

“Told ya she felt exquisite.”

A quick glance over my shoulder reveals Brock standing behind me, his light green eyes darkening.

“And don’t get too high on yourself, bro,” Brock says, mild warning lacing his tone as he runs his tongue along my nape. “My girl knows exactly where her pussy belongs. It’s all good, though. She seems to be enjoying what you’re doing to her. That’s all that matters.”

“Seems?” Ryder circles his hips from side to side, back and forth, and up and down, each glorious movement sinking me further into a state of mind-numbing bliss. I moan, both from his talented hips and my core throbbing to feel Brock. Still, I’m nervous, anticipation rising inside me, hindering me from taking in enough oxygen. I pull in a slow breath, attempting to calm myself.

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Gail McHugh's Novels
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