Amber to Ashes (The Torn Heart #1)

by Gail McHugh

  Brock stays quiet for a long moment before he gets to his knees, his hands finding purchase on my waist as a grin moves across his face. “Did you just beg me to . . . stop?”

  His mouth claims mine in a slow, passionate kiss, preventing me from answering. God, I’m all over him. My taste, scent, moisture, my very essence combined with his dizzies me, suffocating each rushed breath I take. I go limp, my fingers digging into his scalp as he guides me back against the mountain of pillows. Stuck in a sweet daze, I faintly register the sound of him opening a condom wrapper. Before I know it, he’s propped on his elbows, hovering above me, his strong hands cradling my head.

  “I’ve never had a girl ask me to stop,” he whispers, a soft smile twisting his mouth. “You’re my first.” Lowering his lips to my temple, he swipes my right leg to the side with his knee. “They usually insist I keep going.” His knee attacks my left leg, repeating the process. “It’s all good. I’ll get you there.”

  Spread wide open beneath him, the ache at the center of my thighs intensifies as he skirts his lips down my jaw, the base of my throat, and back up to my mouth.

  “Are you ready for me to fuck you, Ber?” He teases the tip of his cock against my pussy, drawing a shudder from my body as he sweeps his tongue through my mouth. “Or are you going to beg me to . . . stop?”

  Everything fades, even the passage of time. I’m lost. Lost in my surroundings. Lost in him. The low timbre of his voice. The sensual promise in his eyes. The musky smell of myself on his lips.

  He pulls back a fraction, his gaze roaming my face. “Because that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna fuck you. I’m gonna fuck you in ways you’ve never been fucked. Ever. I know you think you’ve been taken care of, but you haven’t. Not the way I’m about to.” He licks his lips, and barely pushes inside me, a low groan rumbling from his throat as a moan leaves mine. “But after I fuck you, you’re mine and mine only. No one else’s.” He cocks his head and stares at me, the look in his glazed eyes unreadable. “That means you’re no longer allowed to kiss my friends . . . in their cars . . . after they’ve treated you to lunch unless I give either of you permission to do so.”

  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.

  “Ah, Christ,” Brock snarls, tightening his grip around my waist. “You feel me, Ber? ’Cause I’m feelin’ you, baby. Your pussy was made for me. Your tits, ass, lips, all of it.”

  “Mm, God, yes,” I pant, my body vibrating. “You feel so good.”

  I drag my nails across the width of his back, fall
ing into everything he is. The way his rough yet soft hands are all over my body. It’s as if he can’t help but touch me, like he’s struggling with which part to explore next. The girth of his rigid cock as it slips in and out of me, pulsing into my core with an urgency I’ve never experienced. The way his erotic groans pitch and lower against my ear with each response my body exhibits.

  I might be riding him, but every ounce of Brock is possessing me, staking his claim by the second.

  He cushions two fingers against my clit, applying pressure in quick, luscious strokes. “Let go, baby girl. I know you need to come. I can feel it.” He rubs at my swollen flesh again, faster, harder. “I want this pussy sucking my cock so deep that it hurts.”

  Another thrust onto him, followed by his teeth sinking into my shoulder, and I’m done for, gone. My muscles lock up around him, delicious heat flaring from my head right down to my toes as I convulse in what I’m positive’s the most brutal orgasm I’ve ever had.

  Brock seizes my waist—his grip unforgiving—and jerks his hips up, fucking into me with the fluidity of a well-oiled pleasure-inducing machine. I crash again, a second orgasm thrashing through my womb. He flips me onto my back, completely withdraws from me, and slides his hands under my ass, lifting the bottom half of my body off the bed. Before I can take a full breath, his mouth is on my pussy, licking through my center, his tongue spearing in and out.

  “Are you crazy?” I pant, my legs instinctively finding his shoulders. “I can’t come again. I can’t.”

  He grips my bottom tighter, yanks me to his face, and drags his tongue lower, probing the puckered flesh no man’s ever explored so intimately. “You can,” he growls, sucking my clit into his mouth, “and you will.”

  “Oh my God.” I gasp, my hands seeking something to hold as he moves his tongue up and down, down and up, his thumb poking in and out of my pussy in rhythm with his strokes, flicks, and bites. “Please, no. Brock, I . . . I . . .”

  Come so hard on his face, I’m sure I’ve ruined it.

  Victorious smile stretching his lips, Brock lowers my listless body back down onto the bed and kisses me hard and deep, his intoxicating groans filling my ears. My belly dips, knotting both welcomed and unwelcomed emotions around my heart. Continuing to kiss me—fierce passion in each delicious lash of his tongue—Brock cradles the back of my head, spreads open my legs, and pushes inside me. Though it’s aching, my pussy flares wide, accepting every inch of him.

  “You’re more than I deserve,” he whispers, pulling back to stare at me. Sincerity floods his eyes, a sheepish smile tugging his mouth as he glides his thumbs along my cheeks. “Guys like me never snatch up girls like you. If they do, it’s usually because she’s rebounding.” He kisses my forehead, his voice remaining soft, sensual. “Thank you for sharing yourself with me, Ber. I’ve never thanked a girl after sex—which now that I’m thinking about it makes me a certified dick—but everything about you is fucking amazing.” He kisses my nose, a light chuckle vibrating his chest. “Your sexual skills included.”

  “I’m amazing?” I question breathlessly, convinced the boy has lost his damn mind. I hook my legs around his waist, enjoying his slower movements. “If I’m amazing, I’m not sure what you are.”

  Brock chuckles as I come to the realization I’ve officially been fucked straight, licked undone, and rewarded with multiple treats. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t endure a pounding if I tried.

  Still, I kiss his neck, shoulder, and jaw, my need to thank him intense. “Fuck me, Brock. Go ahead. I’m okay.”

  He draws up a brow, slightly picking up the pace. “You’re just . . . okay?”

  “I’m beyond okay, Cunningham,” I purr, nipping his lip. “You know what I mean.”

  “Of course. What was I thinking? You want me to”—he thrusts his hips forward, a smirk on his face as I gasp—“fuck you, right?”

  “Yes.” It comes out as a pant as he thrusts into me again.

  He grips the headboard with one hand while the other stays securely buried in my hair. “Like this?” he asks with another thrust, his mouth coming down over mine.

  On a long moan, I nod, my nails digging into his shoulders.

  “And this?” He plummets deeper, his free hand gliding down my waist as he moves fluidly, his balls slapping against the cushion of my ass.

  “God, yes. Like that. Please don’t stop,” I beg, ignoring the sting of my skull hitting the headboard.

  It’s not long before his body goes rigid, his muscles tightening with his approaching orgasm. Seizing the opportunity, I slip out from beneath Brock, slide the condom off him, and push him back onto his heels. I lower my lips to his cock, teasing my tongue over its engorged head. Brock sucks in a shocked breath, a delicious groan rumbling from his chest. The erotic sound causes my pussy to weep for its loss as I swirl my tongue in slow circles, taking in more of him. Holding the perfect mixture of salt and tang, sex and sweat, the man tastes amazing. One hundred percent pure, unequivocal bliss.

  With the fingers of one eager hand caressing the heavy sac of his balls, I take his beautiful cock all the way to the back of my throat, nearly choking on its sheer size and girth.

  “Fuuuuck,” Brock hisses, fisting the crown of my head. “You don’t play games. You feel incredible.”

  Not only wanting to taste his release, but needing to see it, I keep my eyes on his as I work him from glorious root to tip. Brock pulls his lip between his teeth, his gaze unwavering from mine as I bob my head up and down, moaning around his cock. Grunting in fast, clipped breaths, he fucks into my mouth like an animal, each measured thrust sinking deep into my throat. Rhythm never letting up, I grip his thighs, giving him free rein to do what he wants with me.

  “Ber, I’m gonna come,” he warns in a deep rasp. “If you don’t want . . . Ah, Christ . . .”

  On a fast thrust down, I slide my hands to his ass and squeeze, praying my eyes convey to him what my vocal cords can’t.

  I want every single bit of him.

  Eyes locked on mine and gripping my hair as though his life depends on it, Brock lets go, spurting his hot warmth down the back of my throat.

  “Goddamn.” He moves his hands to my nape, keeping them there as he continues to pulse into my mouth. “That’s right, baby. Take it. Take it all.”

  Thrust after thrust, I swallow and suck every last drop of him, my fingers tweaking his balls with each convulsing jerk.

  Before I can rise from my hands-and-knees position, Brock hauls me up, moves my dampened hair from my face, and layers his lips over mine. Deep, long, and passionate, he kisses me, groaning into my mouth. He falls onto his back, dragging me on top of his sweaty chest.

  As our breathing descends into an even rhythm, Brock reaches over to a nightstand, flips on a lamp, and slides open a drawer. I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness.

  “I usually don’t blitz in my condo, but hell if I’m not gonna right now. You brought me there.” He pulls out a small metal container, produces a ready-made joint, and sparks it up, sucking the smoke into his lungs. After taking another hit, he holds it to my lips as he rubs his free hand up and down my spine. “Here. God knows you deserve it.”

  I take a deep drag, coughing with a giggle as he slides his hand to my rib cage. “No, no, no!”

  “Mm, but this is the mandatory spooning-and-tickling part.” He dives his hand between our stomachs, tickling the shit out of me.

  “Stop!” I blurt, trying to catch a full breath, my face pinched in mock anger as I grip his chin and give it a stern shake. “Did you like having sex with me?”

  He quirks a brow. “Is that a serious question?”

  I nod, trying to contain a smile. “As serious as they come.”

  Hunger surfaces in his glassy eyes, a slow smirk splicing his lips. “And come . . . you . . . did.” He chuckles, kissing my temple. “To answe
r your question: I didn’t like it, I loved it. I foresee having tons of it in the very near future.”

  “Uh-uh-uh, not if you keep tickling me,” I warn with a coy smile. “You’ll never, ever tap this again.”

  Joint hanging from his mouth, Brock flips me onto my back and hovers above me. He takes another pull, stubs it out on the box’s top, and shotguns the smoke into my lungs, his tongue languidly caressing mine. “Are you threatening me with . . . sex?” He cradles my head. “Is that what you’re doing?”

  “Indeed I am.” I cough, nodding. “And if I were you, I’d heed the warning, buddy.”

  In true rebel fashion, Brock ignores me. This time going full throttle, he pins my arms above my head and tickles my armpits, all the while dropping kisses onto my cheeks. A string of giggles fall from my mouth as I attempt to not only breathe but squirm out from beneath him. As though sent from the heavens above, an angel rings the doorbell, interrupting Brock from his attack on my body.

  He slips off the bed, a smile on his face as he shoves into his jeans. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are?”

  “Do you have any idea what a dick you are?” Matching his smile, I pull the sheets to my chest. “A dick who’s not getting any more of this.”

  Ding-dong . . . Ding-dong . . .

  “Mm, we’ll see about that.” Making his way into the hall, he adds, “I’d bank that you’re lying yet again, my Ber.”

  “I’d bank that you’re one hundred percent correct,” I mumble, fully aware I have every intention of reenacting this evening’s events. As sexually sated as I’ve ever been and floating as high as a cloud, I steal myself away into the silence.

  The temporary bliss doesn’t last long before, “Jesus Christ! What the fuck took you so long to answer, bro?” cuts through the air.

  I whip my head toward the bedroom door, the movement sending my chocolate curtain of hair swinging over my shoulder. The familiar voice seduces my senses, draping my skin like warm silk as oxygen dissolves from my lungs.