Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
SERENITY
We finally pull into the driveway of Diesel’s house, and the garage door hasn’t even fully closed before he’s out of the car.
He rounds the front of the SUV in three predatory strides and yanks my door open.
He doesn’t wait for me to move. He reaches in, unbuckles my seatbelt with a violent flick of his wrist, and pulls me into his arms, carrying me toward the door like I’m something precious and broken.
The moment we’re inside the mudroom, he sets me down, but he doesn't let go. His hands frame my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheekbones with a frantic, searching rhythm. His eyes are dark, the pupils blown wide until there’s barely any amber left, scanning every inch of me for a mark, a bruise, anything that shouldn't be there.
“He touched you,” Diesel says, the words falling like lead weights. “He put his fucking hands on you.”
“I’m okay,” I say. And I mean it. Seeing Kirk next to Diesel showed me he’s so weak and small. Plus, Diesel’s huge friend is currently taking care of Kirk. Whatever that means. “Diesel, look at me. I’m right here.”
“He followed you. Under my watch, he followed you.” He lets out a jagged breath that sounds like a growl, his forehead dropping to rest against mine.
His skin is burning hot, and I can feel the frantic thud of his heart through his leather cut, echoing the frantic rhythm of my own.
“I should have killed him. I should have ended it right there on that tile floor.”
“You saved me,” I say, fisting my hands into the front of his shirt, pulling him closer because the inch of space between us feels like a mile. “You’re the only reason I’m okay. Please. Just hold me.”
The dam breaks. Diesel lets out a sound that’s half-groan, half-sob, and his mouth crashes against mine.
It’s not the gentle, exploratory kiss of our mornings in bed.
It’s a collision. It’s raw and desperate, tasting of salt and heat and a terrifying kind of relief.
He’s kissing me like he’s trying to breathe for both of us, his tongue seeking mine with a hunger that borders on feral.
I wrap my legs around his waist, needing to be closer, needing to feel the sheer bulk of him against me until there’s no room for the memory of Kirk’s pale, sweating face.
I want to be consumed. I want Diesel to overwrite every terrifying second of this afternoon with the weight of his body and the heat of his skin.
He carries me through the house, never breaking the kiss, his hands gripping my thighs with a possessive strength that would have been frightening if it weren't exactly what I needed. We don't make it to the bedroom. He backs me into the hallway wall, the framed photos of his custom bikes rattling against the plaster as he presses me into the wood. His hands move through my hair, then slide under my shirt before moving down to trace the curve of my hips. It’s as if he’s trying to reclaim every square inch of my skin.
“You’re mine,” he mutters against my throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below my ear. “Mine, Ren. I’m never letting you out of my sight again. Never.”
“Yes,” I gasp, my head falling back as he trails hot, wet kisses down my neckline. “Yours. Always yours, Diesel.”
He rips my shirt over my head and quickly unhooks my bra.
Then he tugs my jeans and underwear down my legs, his movements hurried and clumsy in a way I’ve never seen from him.
Usually, Diesel is the king of calculated precision, but right now, he’s a man driven by pure, unadulterated instinct.
I help him, fumbling with his belt, our breathing coming in short, synchronized hitches that fill the quiet hallway.
When he finally strips me bare, he pauses for a heartbeat, his gaze devouring me.
He looks at me like I’m the only thing keeping the world from tilting off its axis. I reach for his shirt, peeling it away, needing to feel the friction of his naked chest against mine. When his skin finally meets mine, I let out a breath I feel like I’ve been holding since the coffee shop.
He lifts me higher, pinning me against the wall with his hips, and I feel the hard, thick length of his cock pressing against my thigh.
He’s rock-hard, straining against his boxers, and the sheer heat radiating from him is enough to make my vision swim.
He’s already glistening at the tip, a bead of pre-cum smearing against my skin, and the sensation makes my pussy ache and pulse with a sudden, sharp need.
“Diesel, please,” I whimper, my fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “I need you. Now.”
He doesn’t wait. He shoves his boxers down and guides himself to my entrance.
I’m already soaked, my folds slick and heavy with a need that’s been amplified by the day’s terror.
He enters me in one slow, agonizingly deep thrust, his cock stretching me, filling me until I feel like I might burst. I cry out, the sound echoing in the narrow hallway, and wrap my arms around his neck, burying my face in the crook of his shoulder.
“Fuck,” he groans, his forehead leaning against the wall beside my head. “You’re so tight, Ren. So fucking perfect.”
He starts to move, his rhythm hard and uncompromising.
There’s no finesse here, just the raw, rhythmic pounding of a man trying to anchor himself to the woman he loves.
Each thrust is a declaration. You’re safe.
You’re here. You’re mine. He’s fisting my hair, keeping my face tilted up so he can watch the way my eyes roll back, the way my mouth hangs open as I chase the peak he’s driving me toward.
The friction is intense, his thick shaft sliding against my clit with every deep, slamming motion. I can feel my internal muscles clenching around him, trying to hold him deeper, trying to pull him all the way into my soul. The hallway is hot, the air thick with the smell of sex.
“Look at me,” he commands, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through my entire body. I force my eyes open, blinking through the haze of pleasure. He’s watching me with a fierce, burning intensity. “Tell me who you belong to.”
“You,” I moan, the word catching in my throat as he hits a spot deep inside that makes my toes curl. “I’m yours, Diesel. Only yours.”
He growls, a deep, animal sound and increases the pace.
He’s relentless, his body a blur of tattooed muscle and sweat-slicked skin.
I can feel the orgasm building, a tight, frantic coil in my belly that’s threatening to snap.
My vision starts to fray at the edges, the world narrowing down to the feeling of him inside me and the rough texture of the wall against my back.
“I love you,” he says, and it sounds like a vow, a sacred oath delivered in the middle of a storm. “I’ll kill for you, Ren. I’ll burn the whole world down before I let anyone touch you again.”
The intensity of his words is the final push I need.
My walls shatter. I fall into the climax with a scream, my pussy clamping down on him in violent, rhythmic waves of heat.
I’m shaking, my entire body vibrating with the force of the release, and I cling to him like he’s the only thing keeping me from falling into the abyss.
Diesel follows a moment later, his body stiffening as he lets out a long, guttural shout.
He thrusts one last time, burying himself as deep as possible, and I feel the hot, thick spurts of his cum filling me, a pulsing warmth that makes me feel claimed in a way that goes beyond the physical.
He stays there, buried inside me, his chest heaving against mine as we both try to find our breath in the wreckage of the moment.
Slowly, he slides out of me, and the sudden absence of him makes me whimper.
He catches me before my feet can even hit the floor, scoops me up, and carries me into the bedroom.
He lays me down on the cool sheets, but he doesn't pull away.
He climbs in beside me, pulling the duvet over us and tucking my head under his chin.
It’s only early afternoon, but I feel like I could sleep the rest of the day away as the adrenaline that’s been coursing through me slowly subsides. The smell of him is everywhere, a comforting blanket that finally, truly, starts to erase the lingering chill of the morning.
I trace the ink on his chest, my fingers following the intricate lines of the red serpent wound through the chrome skull of his MC patch.
His heart is still beating hard, a steady, rhythmic drum against my palm.
I feel safe here, cocooned in his strength, tucked into the secret world we’ve built behind these walls.
Diesel shifts, his arm tightening around my waist as he pulls me even closer, his nose dipping into the crook of my neck. He inhales deeply, as if he’s trying to memorize the scent of me. “You’re okay, sweetness,” he whispers into my skin. “I’ve got you.”
I close my eyes, letting the weight of his body anchor me to the mattress.
The fear is still there, a dull ache at the back of my mind, but it’s distant now, drowned out by the sheer, overwhelming presence of the man holding me.
He isn't just my protector. He isn't just the man who saved me from a nightmare.