Amber to Ashes (The Torn Heart #1) (16 page)

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, falling 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, de
licious 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 answer 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.

Hazed out or not, I know that voice. I’m pretty sure I’d recognize it in a crowded stadium.