Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
I shivered again, as much from the “later” as the intent in his voice. Had I mentioned how much I liked confident, take-charge Diesel? Because I did. I so, so did. “Always.”
He pulled me back from the railing slightly, then pivoted so he was standing in front of me.
The only thing better than the ozone and damp grass smell of Tennessee in a rainstorm was the clean sandalwood smell of Diesel Church. His skin was moon-pale in the dim light, and his beautiful tattoos stood out in sharp relief. He was so gorgeous, he should have been fictional, and despite everything we’d done together over the past few days, I still felt the need to pinch myself to prove that this was really happening. Instead, I lifted my hands to his neck to tug him down for a kiss, and he let me, just like he always did.
I sighed happily. But before I could deepen the kiss, he pulled back and gave me a smirk before sinking to his knees.
“I have plans, Mr. Partridge. Remember?”
“Oh.”
“Never come between a Camper Scout and his plans.”
Well, shit.
I stared down at him on his knees on the wooden deck and focused on keeping myself steady. Even though his face was shadowed, I could feel the intensity of his gaze on me. He splayed his hand over my chest, fingers wide, and it reminded me forcibly of our size difference—his spread fingers could almost touch both of my nipples. But once again, it was hard to care that I wasn’t more built and muscly when Diesel seemed to appreciate the fuck out of the body I had.
He dragged his palm down the center of my chest and torso. I loved the feeling of him touching me… and I loved even more that I felt claimed by the gesture.
I was rock hard and panting already. I felt like the rolling clouds I’d seen earlier, coiled and tense. Waiting to unleash.
I didn’t have to wait long. Diesel dragged my shorts down with both hands, and before I had time to do more than moan his name and anchor my hands in his hair, he’d sucked the tip of my dick into his mouth and pushed his tongue into the slit.
“Oh, sweet blessed corn niblets!” I yelled, like the most idiotic idiot to ever accidentally have sex.
I could feel Diesel’s answering amusement against my dick, and my face flamed.
He popped off a second later to nuzzle his nose into the join of my hip. “You’re so damn adorable, you know that? Shit. So damn pure and so damn perfect.” He chuckled darkly. “Makes me wanna mess you right the fuck up, so you’ll be no good to anybody but me. Makes me wanna own this body entirely. Tattoo something right here—” He stroked a thumb over my hip bone. “—so you never forget how good this was.”
Fuck. A tattoo of Diesel? Hell, yes. But also…
Forget? Was he joking? This night would be seared in my memory banks for as long as I lived. Hell, longer. Centuries from now, when aliens found my bones, they’d see this night written right where my heart used to be. I opened my mouth to tell him so… but Diesel lifted his free hand to my mouth and tapped my bottom lip with two fingers.
“Suck,” he commanded.
Wordlessly, I took his fingers into my mouth, running my tongue up and down each digit until they were slick with spit.
His eyes looked glazed over as he stared up at me. “So damn perfect,” he repeated, and then he opened his mouth and sucked my dick all the way in, and I forgot everything else.
Point of fact: Diesel Church was a dick-sucking god. In my entire life, I’d never felt so utterly consumed, literally and figuratively, as I was at that moment, with his lips tight around me and his tongue playing against my shaft. His hands slid around my hips and gripped my ass cheeks with enough force to leave marks—marks I craved like the tattoo—before he moved to graze his wet fingertip over my hole.
“Dearly beloved—I don’t—This was not in the Camper Scout manual!” I moaned as his mouth worked my cock and his finger teased my opening with such perfect coordination my knees started to give out.
I realized I was holding his hair in a grip that had to be painfully tight, but when I tried to loosen it, he growled around my dick and wrapped his hand around my hand, forcing me to yank harder.
Purple lightning filled the sky, and his eyes were fierce on mine. My stomach flipped end over end like a Slinky falling down the stairs, and thunder rolled in the distance.
“More,” I whispered, pulling at his hair until he slid off with a pop. “I want you to fuck me. Please, Diesel? Please fuck me?”