Page 27 of Diesel’s Second Chance

The sounds filling my bedroom are obscene. Wet slapping of skin. His harsh breathing. My broken moans. The creak of bedsprings that have been silent for seven years suddenly screaming under our combined weight.

"Look at me," Jackson commands.

I force my eyes open. Sweat drips from his temple onto my cheek. His jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping.

"Want to see your face when you fall apart," he says, hips snapping forward. "Want to watch you come on my cock."

The filth pouring from his mouth should embarrass me. Instead, it makes me clench around him.

"Christ, June." He drops his forehead to mine, breath hot against my lips. "Do that again and I'm done."

I do it deliberately this time. Squeeze my inner muscles around his shaft and watch his eyes go dark.

"Fucking hell!" His control breaks. He thrusts into me harder, faster, chasing something we're both racing toward. "Not gonna last. Been dreaming about this for too fucking long."

"Then don't last." I slide my hands up his sweat-slicked back, feel his muscles bunching and releasing with each thrust. "Come inside me, Jackson. Fill me up."

He makes a noise like I've wounded him and buries his face in my neck. His teeth find the junction where my neck meets my shoulder and bite down.

Pain and pleasure explode through me. I cry out, back arching off the bed, and suddenly I'm right there on the edge.

"Jackson—oh God—I'm—"

"I know. I can feel it." He licks where he bit, soothing the sting. "Let go, baby. Come for me."

The orgasm rips through my body like lightning, making my vision white out, making every muscle lock tight. I'm distantly aware that I'm screaming his name, nails scoring down his back hard enough to draw blood.

Jackson fucks me through it, prolonging the pleasure until I'm shaking and sobbing beneath him.

"Perfect," he's murmuring against my skin. "So fucking perfect. Mine. You're mine now, June."

"Yours," I manage to gasp. "Always yours."

He pulls out suddenly and I whimper at the loss.

"On your stomach," he orders.

I'm too wrung out to question it. I roll over, face pressed into the pillow, trying to catch my breath. Jackson's hands grip my hips and lift, angling my ass up slightly but keeping my chest pinned to the mattress.

Then he's covering me. His full weight presses me into the bed, chest to my back, legs bracketing mine. I'm completely trapped beneath him, can't move an inch, and something about the total surrender makes fresh arousal spike through me.

"This okay?" His lips brush my ear.

"Yes."

He reaches between us and guides his cock back inside me. The new angle makes him feel impossibly deeper. I can feel him in my stomach, can feel every ridge and vein as he slides home.

"Fuck," I moan into the pillow.

"I know." He starts moving, hips grinding against my ass with each thrust. "Feel it too. So deep like this."

The friction is incredible. Every time he pulls back, his cock drags against that spot inside me that makes sparks shoot up my spine. Every time he pushes in, his pelvis grinds against my ass in a way that sends shockwaves through my whole body.

I turn my head to the side, gasping for air. The pillowcase smells like lavender fabric softener and underneath that, faintly, the perfume I wore yesterday. My own scent mixed with Jackson's sweat and the musk of sex.

This is my bed. The bed I shared with Tommy for fourteen years. And I'm in it with another man, getting fucked so hard I can taste blood where I've bitten my lip.

The guilt tries to surface but Jackson drives into me particularly deep and it dissolves into pure sensation.