Page 70 of Diesel
She smiles. “That’s not an answer, Zane.”
But it is. I slept because she was here with me.
I brush my lips against hers and she whimpers, her fingers sifting through my hair as our tongues tangle in slow, sensual rolls. Does she know that the only way my heart keeps beating is with her in my life?
“I could sleep for another week,” she complains, nuzzling into my neck like a drowsy kitten. I hold her there, wishing we could do that too. When this is over, I’m taking my wife somewhere quiet, just her and me, no phones, no noise, no war. Just sleep, food and fucking. Her eyes narrow slightly when I don’t speak. “What are you thinking about?”
My lips lift a fraction. “About sinking into your pretty pussy.”
I don’t bother lying. Not with her. Not anymore.
“Oh.” Her lip drags between her teeth and she shifts a little, opening her thighs like an invitation to play. “What’s stopping you?”
I grin. Then I slip my hand between us, down into her underwear and through her slickness. Her back arches, pushing her tits against me. Her breath hitches when I drag along her folds. The way her eyes lock to mine as I stroke her almost unravels the tenuous control I’m holding on to.
Take her. Fuck her. Claim her.
I want to press her under me and sink into her like I’m possessed. But she’s soft and melting into me. I want to keep her like this—unbroken, unbruised, untouched by the hell waiting for us outside the door.
“You’re not playing fair,” she whimpers, her nails digging into my shoulders. She’s leaving marks on my skin. I want her to paint me with her touch.
“I don’t care about being fair,” I murmur against her throat.
Her pulse flutters wildly beneath my lips, a reminder that it beats for me, even if I don’t deserve it.
I sink my fingers inside her pussy. The moan that spills from her is a balm to my soul. I would do anything to keep her happy, and mine. I failed in that before, but never again. I’ll never come that close to losing her.
My thumb presses against her clit, that small amount of pressure lifting her hips toward me.
Greedy little firefly.Always chasing the heat, even when it burns.
She gasps against my mouth, writhing on my fingers desperately. I plunge deeper, and the noise she makes as she comes is beautiful.
Her pussy clamps around me as I slip out of her heat and free my cock from my boxers. I hook her leg over my hip, dragging her closer.
The trust in her eyes… fuck, it wrecks me.
I nip her shoulder, grazing my teeth over her silken skin. Then I press my shaft into her pussy. Inch by inch, watching her face as I fill her and feel her stretching around me. We both groan—hers breathy, mine guttural, like it tears out of somewhere primal inside me.
I thrust my hips, finding a rhythm that makes my vision splinter for a second. She feels so good, so perfect. I burn this moment into my memory so when things get tough, I can remember this right here is what I’m fighting for.
My wife. My firefly.
My reason to exist.
I roll my hips, driving my cock deeper inside her. I don’t want to know where she ends and I begin. I would climb inside her skin if I could.
“You take me so good,” I rasp, kissing her jaw as I keep up my relentless pace.
“Because I’m yours.”
Her words crack my ribs open and my rhythm stutters as I spill into her.Fuck. My head goes light, the world tilting until I drag a breath back into my lungs.
Makenna’s thighs tremble and twitch, her nails embedded in my back now. “Shit,” she gasps, her eyes wild and dazed as she comes around my cock.
The silence settles, the only sound our ragged pants as we try to calm our racing hearts. My nape is clammy, my skin slick with sweat. Her hair sticks to her forehead and I like the way she looks drunk from taking my cock.
I kiss her temple over and over. I can’t stop touching her. “You okay?” I murmur.
