Page 33 of Diesel

His laugh was downright gorgeous. “You know what’s good for getting rid of adrenaline?”

“What?”

Diesel’s eyebrows lifted twice in quick succession, and the heat in his gaze made my mouth go dry.

“Oh.” My voice came out in a tiny squeak. “Oh.”

Crossing the distance between us, I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bedroom. He came willingly, his laughter following us down the hallway. The warm sound wrapped around me, chasing away the last remnants of anger.

“Been too long,” I said, shoving open the bedroom door.

Turning to face him, I barely had time to register his expression before his mouth was on mine. The kiss was hungry, demanding, and I opened for him immediately. His tongue swept inside, tasting like whiskey and something darker that made my knees weak.

My hands found his leather vest, gripping the material while his palms settled on my hips. The pressure was firm, grounding, pulling me closer until no space remained between our bodies. His cock pressed against my hip, already hard, and I ground against him, needing more friction, more contact, more everything.

“Bed,” Diesel murmured against my lips.

“Couch has deep cushions,” I teased, breathless.

“Bed’s got room to move.” He cupped my ass and gave me a rough squeeze that made me moan. “Trust me.”

Walking backward toward the bed, I pulled him with me, unwilling to break the kiss for longer than it took to breathe. My calves hit the mattress, and I sat with a bounce.

Diesel lowered to his knees. My fingers worked the buttons of his vest, shoving the leather off his shoulders. It hit the floor with a soft thump. Next came his shirt, and I yanked it over his head with more excitement than grace. Tattoos covered his torso, dark ink that begged to be traced with my tongue.

My hands explored the planes of his stomach, following the ridges of muscle down to where they disappeared into his jeans.

His fingers found the hem of my shirt and pulled it up. Cool air hit my skin, followed immediately by the heat of his palms as they roamed across my ribs, my sides, my back. Every touch left fire in its wake, building pressure low in my stomach that demanded release.

“Want you,” I rasped, voice catching on the raw need.

“You’ve got me.” He pressed his mouth to my throat, teeth grazing that hot pulse point. “What do you want to do with me?”

“Everything,” I panted, mind drowning under the weight of his touch. “I want to taste you. I want your cock in my mouth.”

Diesel pulled back, his blue eyes dark and focused. “Is that so?”

“God, yes.” My fingers fumbled at his belt buckle. “Let me.”

He undid my belt with rough efficiency before popping the button of his jeans and yanking the zipper down. The denim gaped open, exposing those tight black boxer briefs that clung to his bulge like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. My mouth flooded with saliva at the sight.

Diesel didn’t waste time. He stood and shoved both jeans and underwear down his powerful thighs in one fluid motion. His cock sprang free, thick and veiny and already weeping at the tip. Magnificent. The sheer perfection of him standing there, in my bedroom, letting me have my way with him... it crashed over me like a wave.

I slid off the bed and dropped to my knees on the plush carpet, positioning myself right where I wanted to be. Face to face with his massive erection. Up close, every detail was magnified, the throbbing vein running along the underside, the engorged head flushed a deep purple, the glistening bead of pre-cum welling at the slit.

I leaned in and dragged my tongue from base to tip, savoring the salty tang of his skin and the musky scent of pure male arousal. The taste exploded across my tongue, better than any memory. Diesel’s fingers tangled in my hair, not pulling, just gripping, like he needed something to hold onto.

“You look so fucking hot on your knees,” Diesel growled, his voice rough with need.

“Haven’t even started yet,” I murmured, my breath ghosting over his sensitive skin.

“Don’t need to. Seeing you like this—” He cut himself off, jaw clenching tight. “Suck me. Now.”

Leaning forward, I licked a stripe from base to tip, tasting salt and skin and pure male. The flavor exploded across my tongue, better than anything I remembered. Diesel’s hand found my hair, fingers threading through it but not pulling. Just holding on, like he needed the anchor.

Wrapping my hand around the thick base of his cock, I took him into my mouth. The stretch was immediate, my jaw protesting, but I didn’t give a fuck. All that mattered was the way his breath stuttered, the way his fingers tightened in my hair, the way his hips jerked forward before he caught himself.

“Shit,” he hissed. “Your mouth is fucking heaven.”