Page 64 of Diesel
“Too many.” He looks gutted when he lifts his head. “I’m sorry I brought you into this, firefly.”
“Don’t. You’re not to blame for this, Zane.” I cup his face between my hands, his stubble rough against my palms. “I see it now, what you were trying to build. And this…” I gesture around us. “Everything’s gone to hell, sure, but everyone here is looking out for each other, and that’s rare, Zane.”
He lets out a breath that sounds like it’s been locked in his chest since he left the safe house. “We’re close to finishing this thing. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need you to hold on for a little bit longer.”
“I’m in this now,” I assure him. Then I kiss the corner of his mouth, his temple, the top of his head. “What happens next?”
He holds my hips, peering up at me like I’m the sun rising in his sky. “In the morning, me and my brothers will go hunting, but tonight—tonight, you’re mine, Makenna.”
TWENTY
DIESEL
I stand slowly,aware of how much bigger than her I am. The top of her head barely reaches my chin, her frame all delicate bones and soft curves I could shatter if I’m not careful. She’s not fragile, never has been, but right now she’s glass and I’m the hammer that could break her.
I wrap my fingers gently around her nape and dip my head to meet her lips. Our mouths clash, hot and urgent. It’s a brutal mess of teeth and tongue, too much, yet not enough.
Her nails scrape down my chest, like the cotton between us isn’t a barrier, and her fingers fist into the fabric. It drags a groan from somewhere deep in my gut, but it doesn’t hide the taste of fear on her lips or the way her breath catches like she’s trying to forget everything but this.
I wasn’t sure she’d let me near her again, not after everything, but the way she rubs her body against mine tells me no matter how much I fucked up, she still wants me.
The horror scrapes through my mind without warning.
Blood.
Bodies.
Men dead I’ve known for years. Their faces flash behind my eyes, blinking over gore I can’t scrape away. The stench of copper and cordite clings to my skin, even though I scrubbed it off. But then she moans again and she is the light in the dark guiding me home. The only thing that can pull me out of my head.
I swallow it down, focus on her hands on me. Her warmth. I press her against the wall at the side of the bed, and her back arches off the plasterwork. The room fades around us. There’s no war. No club. No dead.
Just her and me. Heat and friction. Need so sharp it slices me open. Our teeth clash brutally, like we’re chasing desperation and salvation together.
She lifts one leg, and I hold it up as I scrape my hardness against her pussy.
“Zane.” My name comes out strangled, a rasp of need.
It’s fucking fuel to my already burning desire.
My free hand slides under the waistband of her leggings, into her underwear and finds her slick. I slide my fingers through her folds and she gasps, one hand clutching my wrist, the other gripping my shoulder like she’ll break apart if I stop. Her thighs quiver, heat radiating off her like a wildfire.
Fuck. She’ll be the death of me.
“Say you’re mine,” I growl against the shell of her ear. “Tell me you’re mine, Makenna.”
I need the words, need her to mean them.
“I’m yours,” she gasps.
My body is screaming, desperate for relief. I want to beinside her, to claim her completely with my cock, but she’s riding my fingers like she’s chasing pleasure.
“Every breath you have is mine,” I murmur against her neck. “Every beat of your heart… Mine.”
“Please, Zane. More.” It falls out of her mouth, as if she doesn’t mean to say it, but can’t stop.
Mine…
I’ll never let her go. I can’t. She’s under my skin, imprinted in every cell in my body. There is no me without her. If I die trying to build this life for us, at least we have this memory. But fuck, even that thought feels like betrayal, like I’m already preparing to say goodbye. She makes me want things I have no business wanting. Soft and safe things. Things I can destroy too easily.
