Ember & Ashes (Ink & Ashes #3)

Chapter One

Maisie

“Look at me.”

I force my gaze up, taking in the brilliant blue-green of Macallan’s eyes that are hooded with desire.

“I’m looking at you.” I cry out when he thrusts into me hard and deep.

“Eyes open, Mais.” A command I find nearly impossible as he draws almost all the way out, only to slam into me again, pushing me farther up the smooth surface of the desk beneath my back.

Fingers biting into my hips, he repeats the movement, driving my body to the brink, only to retreat just enough to let it settle before doing it all over again.

It’s the sweetest form of torture I think I’ve ever experienced in my life.

But for the love of God, I wish he’d let me have the release my body so desperately craves.

I feel like a wind-up toy that’s been wound too tight and at any moment my strings are going to snap and I’m going to completely unravel. Ruined from ever being played with again.

And that’s exactly what he’s doing... Ruining me for anyone else. After this... After him... I can’t imagine there’s any coming back from this. And damn it, I don’t want to. All I want is him. Something I never thought I’d feel, especially just a couple of months into my freshman year of college.

I had a plan coming in.

Be free and wild. Unapologetic. Take what I want when I want it. No strings. Nothing holding me back. Live the life my sister never got to. Live it for both of us to the absolute fullest every single day. And that’s what I’ve done thus far. But this man...

I’m afraid he has the power to shatter everything I thought I wanted. Honestly, I think he already has. And for someone who’s never wanted commitment, never wanted to tie myself down to another person, that’s truly saying something.

“Fuck, you feel like you were made for me.” He husks, the sound damn near tipping me over the very precarious edge I currently find myself dangling over.

My heart expands in my chest...

I feel like you were made for me too... I think but don’t say.

“Mac.” I claw at his shoulders, thick with muscle, urging him to move faster. “More.”

“More, you say.” A wicked smile turns up the corners of his mouth, that damn irresistible dimple of his making an appearance.

Before I can react, Macallan withdraws completely, causing me to whimper in protest, only to then gasp when he takes me by the legs and flips me onto my stomach with such ease, you’d think I weighed nothing at all.

Chest flat against the hard wood, he enters me from behind in a powerful thrust that fills me so completely I swear there isn’t an inch of my body that doesn’t feel the effects of him.

After pulling out halfway, he thrusts again, this time so deep it’s borderline painful, and yet all I want is more.

More of this.

More of him.

I never want it to end.

But as he establishes a steady rhythm, his grip on my hips the only thing keeping me in place, there’s no fighting the thick build of release in my stomach. No stopping the tide that washes over me. No preventing the coil of my body as my orgasm crests.

And then I’m crying out. Screaming his name as I drown in the pleasure that pulls me under like a powerful ocean wave, refusing to let me surface until it’s had its way with me.

I submit to it. Submit to him. Hearing him grunt out his own release seconds later like my body triggered his own in response.

As we lie there, Macallan’s weight pressed into my back, his breath hot on my neck, his cock still twitching inside of me, a thought hits me so hard that it knocks the air from my lungs... And once it does, there’s no stopping the onslaught of emotion that follows.

I think I love him...

It seems crazy. We’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks. But in that time, he’s made me feel more alive, more seen, than anyone ever has before.

I think I love him—the thought hits me again, only to be disputed by another part of me that refuses to be silenced. My heart. And she’s not afraid to say what my brain is struggling to comprehend.

You don’t think, you know, it says.

I try to dismiss it. Try to reason with the sudden emotion I feel like I’m drowning in, but there’s no stopping it. Not now, with the knowledge taking root like a tree, unmovable against my denial.

Macallan slowly pulls out and I hear the rustle of his pants seconds before he’s tugging me upright. Turning to face him, when the intensity of his eyes meets mine, I almost let the words spill past my lips. I almost say exactly what I’m feeling.

But then he lowers his mouth to mine and like always, the world washes away. Every thought leaves my head in an instant as I am pulled into the vortex that is Macallan Stewart.

He’s a storm. Violent and without mercy.

So what does it say about me that all I want to do is lose myself in the chaos? That I want to live in his destruction forever?

It says that I am totally and royally fucked.

As if I didn’t already know that much...

TWO YEARS LATER

“Earth to Maisie.” Someone snaps in front of my face and I startle, having lost myself to the reminisce of the dream I woke from this morning that still feels like a thousand-pound weight sitting on my shoulders.

Macallan...

God, how I’ve tried not to think about that time with him, a time where I thought we might actually be something incredible together. A time I’d soon rather forget. Unfortunately, even in sleep, he still haunts me.

“What?” I blink, trying to snap out of it.

“I asked, how’s the new roommate?” Charlotte grins, her green eyes lit with a hint of amusement.

“You mean your replacement?” I huff, letting out a slow sigh as my gaze bounces between her and Lyric—my two best friends whom I adore with everything that I am. Though I can’t deny that I’m a little perturbed with them, considering they’ve both now abandoned me for a man.

We all lived together our freshman year of college, and while it was somewhat of a rough year for me—thank you, Macallan Stewart—living with them made it bearable.

I didn’t have a lot of female friends growing up, and I quickly realized how much I needed them when things got hard.

Sophomore year, Lyric moved in with her beau, Kai, leaving just me and Char, and while we bickered like an old married couple, I was sad to see her go when she moved out toward the end of the last school year to live with her man, River.

Not that I’m not happy for them—of course I am. I just hate that while they’re living on cloud nine, both so in love it’s nauseating at times, I’m still partaking in meaningless hookups and trying to pretend that’s all I want. In truth, I want what they have... I always have.

I guess some of us simply don’t deserve that kind of happiness.

“She makes Lyric look like a rebel.” I snort, lifting my coffee to my lips to take a tentative sip.

This is the first time I’ve seen either of them since I returned to campus three days ago. Not that I didn’t see them a ton over the summer. I did. Given that they both live in apartments just off campus, and my parents’ house is just fifteen minutes away, we spent most of the break together.

“Oh no. Did you get landed with a dud?” Char visibly pouts.

While I missed Char, I didn’t mind having the room to myself for a couple of months at the end of last year when she moved out, but given that I’m on an athletic scholarship and don’t really have the luxury of opting for a single, I was forced to move in with a new roommate this year.

“Let’s put it this way. Classes haven’t even started and she’s already complaining that I’m distracting.”

“Distracting?” Lyric quirks a brow, pushing her light brown hair over her shoulder as she readjusts in her chair.

“Apparently, she’s finishing her summer reading list and how dare I, I don’t know, get dressed in the room where I live.

She gets mad when I come and go. When I make too much noise by simply moving around the room.

She even complained about me watching a movie on my laptop, and I was wearing headphones.

” I groan. “I can’t even breathe without her throwing daggers at me. ”

“Oh no.” Char’s face fills with apology, but there’s still a hint of amusement in her eyes that tells me part of her finds it a little funny.

“You could always request a room transfer.” Lyric’s hazel eyes are soft with understanding.

While Char is unapologetic and a bit of an asshole sometimes, Lyric is a saint.

Quite literally, the sweetest person you will probably ever meet on the face of the planet.

Both are very different, and yet, I love them equally for different reasons.

Even if I do want to throat punch Charlotte from time to time.

“I already tried,” I whine. “Yesterday, when I came back from soccer to change before leaving again, she complained that it was also too distracting. I tried to explain to her that between classes and soccer, I would likely be coming and going frequently. She just loved that. Anyway, so I went to the housing office because if she’s already complaining this much after three days, I can’t imagine how bad it’s going to be after three weeks, or three months, but there’s nothing else available.

Basically, I’m stuck, unless I want to pay for an apartment or live with my parents this year and commute, which I certainly do not.

The biggest draw for my athletic scholarship is that it includes housing. ”

“I’m so sorry, Mais.” Lyric reaches across the table and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “I can’t help but feel somewhat responsible.”

“No. This isn’t on you. Either of you.” I shake my head, wishing I had tied my hair up when the too-thick strands brush across my back, drawing my attention to the small beads of sweat at the nape of my neck.

August in Virginia is stifling, even if we are sitting inside an air-conditioned coffee shop.

“I wish you had gotten someone a little more suited to you.” She continues, “I hate the idea of you having to deal with that every day.”