Embers Of Hope

Chapter 17

Maya's POV

Blake's surprised gasp melts into the kiss, but she doesn't hesitate for long. Her hands settle on my waist, fingers digging in just enough to remind me of her strength. It's a kiss that's fierce and consuming, as if we're both trying to pour everything unsaid, all the fury and frustration, into this one electrifying moment. Her lips are warm and soft against mine, yet there's a raw, unguarded edge, like she's giving me a piece of herself she's always kept hidden.

My hands slide up, threading through her hair as I pull her closer, wanting to erase every bit of distance between us. She presses me against the wall, and my heart thunders, each beat mingling with the heat radiating between us. I don't think I've ever felt so alive, every nerve on fire as we lose ourselves in each other.

We break apart, breathing heavily, her forehead resting against mine as we linger in the aftermath, the tension that's always simmered between us now ignited into something undeniable. Blake's fingers trace slow circles on my hip, a small gesture, but one that sends shivers down my spine.

"Thought you hated me," she murmurs, voice low, almost a challenge but tinged with something softer, more vulnerable.

I give a soft, breathless laugh, catching her gaze. "Maybe I do, or maybe I don't," I whisper back, not entirely willing to let go of the charade. "Doesn't mean I don't want you."

Blake's eyes darken, a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips as she pulls me back in, her voice a husky murmur. "Good."

Her lips meet mine again, and this time, the kiss is slower, deeper, each movement deliberate, like she's savoring every second, every touch. It's a dangerous game we're playing, one with no rules, only the raw pull of everything we've kept bottled up for far too long.

She moves me towards the bed. My back hits the mattress as Blake leans over me, her hands braced on either side of my head, eyes fixed on mine, holding me captive under her intense gaze. Her fingers trail down, grazing my cheek, my neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. There's something possessive, almost tender in the way she looks at me now—like she's unraveling every layer, every defense I've tried to keep between us.

I can't deny her. Not anymore.

I reach for her pants. Blake's eyes flash with something feral, something I've seen before but never fully acknowledged. This moment, like so many before it, teeters on the edge of control and chaos.

My hands trembling slightly as I push her pants down. My mind's at war with itself, but my body... my body knows what it wants. What it always wants.

Her hands slide under my shirt, rougher than usual, like she's trying to make a point. I bite back a groan as her touch sets every part of my being on fire.

Blake's hands splay across my skin, warm and relentless, each touch anchoring me in a moment I know I shouldn't want but can't resist. The tension between us is razor-sharp, and as her fingers trace every line and curve, it feels like she's committing me to memory, like she's daring me to say something, to stop her. But I don't. I can't.

Her gaze finds mine again, a silent question lingering in her eyes. For once, I don't have a snarky answer or a carefully crafted excuse. I'm just... here, caught up in the fierce pull between us, drowning in her intensity. A part of me hates how much control she has over me in this moment, yet I'm drawn to it, to the fire and fury that make her who she is.

"Why do you do this to me?" The words slip out, barely a whisper, raw and unfiltered.

Blake pauses, her brow furrowing slightly. Her thumb brushes over my jaw, a gentle contrast to the tension thrumming in the air. "Maybe," she murmurs, her voice softer than I've ever heard it, "because you let me."