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Amber to Ashes (Torn Hearts #1) Page 43
Author: Gail McHugh

My vocal cords freeze up, my heart sinking to my toes as he tilts my head, kissing my cheek, jaw, and neck.

“Are we understood, my beautiful, mysterious little . . . liar?”

I swallow, trying to bring some form of moisture to my parched throat. “How di-did you—”

“I have eyes all over campus. Never forget that.” He drops a tender kiss on my lips, his fingers playing into my hair. “You two put on quite a display earlier. It was bound to get back to me.”

He pushes into me again, this time breaching the barrier of my slickened folds. My pussy clenches, attempting to suck him in, but he pulls out, leaving me gasping for air. A shaky breath hurtles from my chest as I clutch his shoulders, the exotic protest climbing from his throat dousing my ears.

Hands still cradling the back of my head, he gazes down at me with a lazy grin. “I know you and Ryder dig each other. That’s a given. Though he knew I was trying for you first, I can’t blame him for taking a shot. He’d have to be fucking crazy not to.” He glides his lips against mine, his fingers lightly fisting my hair. “I know my friend very well, and I can’t say I’m shocked or mad at him. Ryder and I are both a little . . . fucked up. When we see what we want, we go after it, no matter who’s in our way. Seems odd that we’re buds, right?”

I nod, wanting to understand their friendship. I know there’s more behind it, or less. I’m not sure. Either way, this conversation has me curious.

Brock grins and claims my neck, his tongue sweeping the spot below my ear. “Well, we are, and nothing will ever change that. But unless I give you two permission otherwise, you’re no longer allowed to further . . . indulge. I’m the one who’s going to fuck you straight. The one whose name you’re going to cry out several times a day. I’m the one you’re going to fall asleep next to and wake up with. The one who’s going to know every secret you’re hiding. Good?”

I need, want, and crave this. Crave . . . him. His secrets. His lies. His dark past and uncertain future. His promises and demands. His touch, body. His . . . everything.

“Good,” I whisper, tendrils of pleasure tickling my core.

Brock jerks his hips forward, sliding inside me with brutal urgency. I gasp, his heavily veined cock filling every aching inch. The planes of his sweat-slicked torso rub hard and fast against my stomach as we release a string of rushed breaths. My nails dig into his shoulders in pure ecstasy. I’m no longer high, but I feel alive, my deadened cells awakening from a deep slumber. I incline my head, my back arched as I attempt to pull Brock’s lips down to mine. With one hand fisting my hair and the other cupped around my thigh, he stares at me a moment, fierce arousal spinning in his eyes. After a beat, he settles his lips over mine, sweeping his tongue through my mouth.

“I need all of you,” he snarls, slamming into me. A gasp kicks from my lungs, my body molding to his as though it were clay. He lifts his head, knots of hair spilling over his eyes as possession contorts his beautiful face. “Every inch. Your heart, soul, your past, present, future. All of it. Say it, Ber, tell me you’re mine, baby girl.”

I feel his desire, his untapped need to claim me, heating everything around us, but there’s no method to the way he takes me. One second, he’s fucking into me with such force that I feel as though he’s about to deliciously split me in two, the hunger in his movements close to paralyzing. The next, he slows down, his eyes locked on mine as if I’m the only thing he ever wants within his line of vision. As if I’m the only thing that exists in his mind.

I’ve never been made love to, so I’m not sure how to gauge that against what’s happening now, but nothing about this is straight-up fucking. Nothing. It’s more, deeper. A connection, a thick current of electricity sparking the air, showing no mercy to the emotions it controls.

“I’m yours,” I pant. On the heels of my declaration, awareness that I’ve never committed to such an intimate promise rushes through my gut, fear and longing spiraling through my soul. Still, the words feel right on my lips, a promise penned on my heart long before I knew Brock existed. A groan slips from Brock’s mouth as I move my shaky fingers down his shoulders, along his chest, seeking his ass. I squeeze and hook my legs around his waist, letting go of everything I’ve ever feared. “Only yours. No one else’s.”

Brock’s mouth comes down over mine, his tongue probing with sharp, dominant efficiency as he dives an arm under my hips. With a growl, he hauls back to a sitting position, bringing me up with him. His lips land on my neck, licking, sucking, and biting the sensitive skin. I purr and reach for his cock, guiding it inside me. The air hisses with our ragged breathing as I fully sink down onto him, my pussy swallowing every glorious inch.

“That’s right, bounce on this cock.”

He fists my dampened hair and yanks, my spine bowing as I plummet into the storm of sensations soaking my muscles. He sucks my nipple into his mouth, his tongue playing over the hardened bud. I jerk forward, a moan punching from my lungs. He stares at me, his eyes wicked. My ass slaps against his thighs, my addiction for this—for him—exploding. I thrust up and down, down and up, stealing what I need from him, but equally accepting what he’s dishing out like a fiend. He grips my waist, driving into my pussy, each stab bringing me closer to the edge. With my arms wrapped around Brock’s neck—his face buried against my sweat-slickened chest—I slide down again, finding a slow but steady rhythm. I circle my hips, taking him as deep as my body will allow.

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