Page 34 of Diesel

I hollowed my cheeks and sucked harder, taking him deeper. My tongue swirled along the underside, finding that sensitive spot just beneath the head that made his thighs quake. More pre-cum leaked onto my tongue, and I swallowed greedily, craving every drop.

“Just like that,” he groaned, both hands now cradling my head. “Taking my cock so good, Ollie. So fucking good.”

The way he praised me had my dick throbbing so hard against my jeans it was almost unbearable. I shoved the discomfort aside and zeroed in on Diesel, determined to figure out exactly what made him groan, what made his breath hitch, what made him lose that iron grip on his self-control.

My fist pumped the thick base of his cock while my lips and tongue worked the rest, slick with spit and desperate for more. I picked up speed, my head bobbing in a relentless rhythm that had Diesel muttering filthy curses under his breath.

“Look at me,” he growled.

Locking eyes with him while his cock stretched my mouth sent a surge of raw lust straight through me. The way he looked at me—like I was dismantling him, piece by piece—was almost too much to handle. His expression was pure need, raw and unfiltered, and it made my own dick ache.

“Jesus Christ, you look so fucking good with my cock stuffed in your mouth,” he groaned, his hips twitching forward, forcing himself deeper. “Could watch this all goddamn night.”

I hummed around him, relaxing my throat and taking him farther, the head of his dick brushing the back of my throat. I breathed through my nose, fighting back the gag, but the way Diesel’s fingers tightened in my hair, the way his groan vibrated through his chest—it was worth it.

“You’re gonna make me blow if you keep that up,” he warned, his voice rough. “And I want to be buried inside your ass when I do.”

I pulled off with a wet, obscene sound, my lips swollen and tender from the friction. “What if I want you to come down my throat?” I challenged, my voice thick with lust.

“Next time.” He yanked me up and crushed his mouth to mine. His tongue invaded, tasting himself on me, and it was filthy and perfect. “Right now, I need to fuck you. Been thinking about it since you nearly rearranged Gerald’s face.”

“I was going to do more than punch him.”

“I know,” he said, his hands already tearing at my jeans, popping the button and yanking the zipper down. “That’s what made it so hot.”

My jeans hit the floor, my boxers right after. Diesel’s hands were all over my ass, squeezing, spreading, teasing, promising exactly what was coming next. My cock jutted between us, hard as steel and leaking pre-cum, desperate for any kind of touch.

“On the bed,” Diesel ordered. “On your back.”

I scrambled onto the mattress, sprawling against the pillows. “Lube’s in the nightstand.”

He was there in seconds, yanking the drawer open and grabbing the bottle. When he turned back to me, his body caged me in, his weight pressing me into the mattress. The feeling of being trapped beneath him, surrounded by his heat, had something deep in my gut unraveling. “Need to tell you something before we take this any further.” Diesel paused.

His entire body had gone still above me, and not the good kind of still. The kind of still that made my brain immediately jump to twenty worst-case scenarios, ranked in order of how badly they would destroy me.

“You have a boyfriend,” I guessed.

“No.”

“A husband.”

“No.”

“You’re dying.”

“Ollie.”

“You collect taxidermy. You’re secretly a Gerald sympathizer. You—”

“Ollie.” His hand cupped the side of my face, thumb pressing gently against my jaw like he was trying to physically hold my mouth still. “Breathe.”

“I’m breathing. This is me breathing while also spiraling. I can multitask.”

His mouth twitched, but the seriousness didn’t leave his eyes. He shifted his weight to one forearm, hovering over me, and I became very aware of how naked we both were for what was clearly turning into A Conversation. Nobody wanted A Conversation naked. Naked was for the opposite of conversations.

“What I’m about to tell you,” he said slowly, “is going to sound insane. And I need you to hear all of it before you react. Can you do that?”

“Historically? No. But I’ll try.”