Chapter 7
Diesel
She’s asleep beside me. Soft. Warm. Real. And naked.
The rain stopped sometime in the night, leaving the air thick with silence. The kind that wraps around you and doesn’t let go.
I should get up. Call Ghost. Ask for updates.
I don’t.
I watch her breathe instead.
Her lashes twitch. Lips parted. One arm tucked under her cheek like a girl who’s never had to sleep with one eye open. Like someone who believes, for once, the dark won’t come for her.
She trusts me.
God help me, she trusts me.
Last night unraveled something in me I didn’t know I was still holding together. She let me in — not just her body, but everything. Her past. Her pain. Her hope. And I took all of it with greedy hands and aching restraint.
And now she’s here.
Curled against me like she belongs.
I should feel guilty.
I don’t.
I feel like a man with blood in his veins for the first time in years.
I shift carefully, rolling onto my side so I don’t wake her. But she stirs anyway, a soft sound catching in her throat as her body moves closer, instinctive. Seeking heat.
My hand finds her waist. I can't help it. I just want to touch. To make sure she’s really here. My thumb brushes the curve of her hip, the soft indent of her waist.
She sighs, half-asleep, and I feel her shift under the sheets.
I shouldn’t.
But her body curls into mine like it’s already decided.
And then her voice, barely a whisper against my chest. “You’re staring.”
“You’re beautiful,” I say simply. Just the truth.
She lifts her face, cheeks flushed with sleep, eyes still heavy. That sleepy, sweet look that damn near kills me.
“I can feel you thinking,” she murmurs.
I kiss her forehead, just once. “Yeah. Thinking too much.”
She blinks up at me, lashes brushing my skin. “Then stop.”
Her fingers slide down my stomach, slow. Testing.
Heat rolls through me so fast I have to close my eyes.
I shift her gently beneath me, letting the weight of my body settle over hers.
She wraps her legs around my waist, and her breath hitches when I press against her, hard and already aching.
“Grace,” I whisper, forehead against hers. “You sure? Aren’t you sore?”
She nods, eyes wide and sure. “I am, but I want you.”
I search her eyes, looking for any hint of doubt, but there’s none. Just that raw honesty that undoes me.
My cock throbs against her thigh, trapped between us, already leaking pre-cum from the heat of her skin.
“Okay,” I murmur, capturing her lips in a slow kiss.
It’s gentle at first, tongues sliding lazily. But then she arches into me, her nipples hardening against my chest, and the kiss deepens, hungry.
I break away to trail my mouth down her neck, sucking lightly on the pulse point that flutters under my lips. Her hands roam my back, nails scraping lightly, urging me on.
I shift my hips, rubbing the length of my shaft along her folds, feeling how wet she already is despite the soreness she mentioned. She’s slick, ready, her body responding to mine like it was made for this.
“Diesel,” she breathes, her voice a mix of plea and command.
I slide a hand between us, fingers parting her lips to circle her clit softly. She gasps, hips lifting to chase the touch. I keep it light, teasing, watching her face as pleasure flickers across it.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” I say, voice rough.
She shakes her head, eyes locked on mine.
“Don’t stop. Please.”
I nod, positioning the head of my cock at her entrance. She’s tight like last night, her pussy still swollen, but she relaxes as I push in slowly, inch by inch. The stretch makes her wince, a small sound escaping, but she pulls me closer, legs tightening around me.
“Breathe, baby,” I whisper, holding still once I’m halfway in. Her walls clench around me, hot and velvet soft, pulling me deeper.
I kiss her again, swallowing her moans as I sink the rest of the way, bottoming out with a groan. Fuck, she feels perfect, like she was carved for me.
We stay like that for a moment, connected, my weight pinning her gently to the mattress.
Her breaths come in shallow pants against my shoulder, and I start to move. Shallow thrusts at first, careful not to jar her too much. Each slide in and out builds the friction, her wetness coating me, easing the way.
Grace’s hands grip my shoulders, her body rocking with mine.
“More,” she whispers, and I give it to her, picking up the pace.
My hips snap forward, cock driving deeper, hitting that spot inside her that makes her cry out. The bed creaks under us, the room filling with the slap of skin on skin and her breathy moans.
I hook one of her legs higher over my hip, changing the angle, and she shudders, her pussy fluttering around me.
“Right there,” she gasps, head falling back. I grind against her clit with every thrust, feeling her tighten, her orgasm building.
Sweat beads on my skin, dripping onto her as I take her harder, chasing my own release. She’s so responsive, every clench and whimper pushing me closer.
“Grace, fuck, you’re gonna make me come,” I grunt, my balls drawing up tight.
“Do it,” she urges, her nails digging in.
Her words tip me over. I thrust deep one last time, burying myself as I spill into her, hot jets filling her up. She follows right after, her pussy spasming, milking every drop from me as she comes with a broken sob, body shaking beneath mine.
I collapse forward, careful not to crush her, pressing kisses to her damp forehead, her cheeks. We stay joined, breaths mingling, until I soften and slip out, our combined release trickling between her thighs.
Her breath slows. Her fingers curl into my chest.
The day will come for us soon.
But not yet.
Right now, she’s safe.
And I’m hers.