I close my eyes and try to close my legs so I can retreat into a deep, dark hole where I didn’t just tell Diesel I love him, but he doesn’t let me. He crawls up the bed, and his big shoulders are wedged between my thighs. He moves fast, his head dipping down to my core, and the next thing I know, his tongue is licking up my lips and over my clit. My legs relax and part again. I force my eyes to open and watch as he licks, sucks, and nips at my core. His mouth feels fucking perfect on my pussy. Just hard enough, just gentle and slow enough, to really get my body buzzing. Then he takes my breath away as he shifts and swiftly inserts two long fingers into my pussy. And he’s finger fucking me hard and fast. His mouth is sucking at my clit, harder with each breath he takes. He’s goddamn merciless in his effort to tear me apart using only his mouth. My orgasm builds in record time, but then he slows, and the feeling dies down, becoming a soft buzz. Just when my body slacks with pleasure, he’s back to eating me alive.
My legs twitch and my back arches as he slams his fingers into my swollen pussy and curls them in the exact right place. In a desperate attempt to keep the feeling, my legs clamp closed as my body jerks and twists. I don’t even realize that I’m screaming and panting wildly until my body is exploding into a thousand different pieces. I claw at the sheets underneath me, losing all sense of time and reason. Diesel moves a hand underneath me, and a wet finger teases at my ass. The pressure is exquisite, but I don’t want to come again like this. I need more of him.
My body jackknifes off the bed. Diesel responds quickly and sits up on the backs of his legs. He pulls my hips into his lap and helps me to straddle him.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he says. His voice is gorgeously throaty, and he’s as damp with sweat as I am.
“I want you to fuck me as hard as you can,” I say and slide on his lap. Hovering over him, I wrap one hand around the back of his neck and the other around his cock. He removes my hand from his deliciously thick, hard dick and tells me to put it on the bed behind me. I do as I’m told, with my back arched in some kind of gymnastic position, when he shifts beneath me and, without warning, buries himself in my pussy. He doesn’t give me time to adjust to his size. He just hammers into me again and again, so relentless in his pursuit of owning my pussy.
“You meant what you said?”
“Meant what?” I ask. I can barely respond. This position allows him to go deeper and for me to feel him in a way I didn’t know I ever could. I balance myself with my hand on the bed behind me, half suspended in his lap, and his arms are curled around the back of my shoulder blades to drive into me as hard as he can.
“Said you love me,” he says. “Like hearing it, but I want to know it’s real and not bullshit.”
“Not bullshit.” I barely get the words out. My arms shake from the exertion of the position. He pulls me up and into him, not breaking our connection, and then lays me down on the bed, never ceasing to stop the slow, steady rhythmic way he’s fucking me.
“Good,” he says. His face screws up, his body stills, and he takes a deep breath before jackhammering into me so fucking fast and hard that my body is forced into another orgasm. Just as I’m coming down, he adjusts my legs, tilts his hips, and buries himself as deep as he can inside me. And he comes. He moans, a deep, guttural moan that almost sends me over the edge again. Watching him lose himself is the best, and that’s saying a lot considering the fact that I’ve just had the two most powerful, intense orgasms I’ve ever had in my life just a few minutes earlier.
“Just fucked you bare and came in that sweet, perfect fucking pussy of yours. If that’s not love, Legs, I don’t know what is.”
Chapter 6
It’s another day on the road before we get to Detroit, but when we do, it’s too late to do anything but let ourselves into the house, via Elle’s spare key, as quietly as we can. Walking into Amber’s house makes me feel like a bastard because the weight of the situation finally hits me. Elle brings us through a small living room and down a hallway, then into a finished basement. It’s a sparsely decorated space, but a few telltale objects give away the fact that this isn’t just a space for guests—it’s a space for my woman.
We didn’t turn any lights on upstairs because, according to Elle, Amber’s daughter, Piper, has been fussy without her big brother at home. So it’s not until we’re downstairs that I see any pictures of Amber or her kids. The walls aren’t overrun with family photos, but there’s a sizeable collection, and about a third of them include my woman in them. I start with the oldest photos and check them out in what looks like chronological order. The first one is of Elle and Amber when they were young, and the next one is a few years newer. A little boy with dark brown hair and light brown eyes sits on Elle’s lap, but his eyes are on his mom who’s right next to them.
There’s a few more photos with Elle and the little boy who slowly grows from a chubby toddler into a massive-as-fuck teenager. He smiles less in the latter photos, has awkward posture, and generally looks annoyed with the world. He’s his father’s son, all right. Even if I didn’t already know Wyatt is his dad, I would now. The kid is big for his age, which isn’t much a surprise since Wyatt is six foot five, so while he might have the body mass to deal with Rig, he doesn’t seem to be confident in his body just yet, and that fucks me up. Rig’s in a bad place, and he’s hated Wyatt for years. I don’t know the history behind Wyatt’s letting his old lady leave him while she was pregnant, but I do know my VP. The man he is now would claw his way out of the depths of hell for this boy he doesn’t even know.
“He’s cute, right?” Elle says as she comes to stand beside me.