Chapter 85 85
DAISY POV
My fingers trembled as I obeyed, sliding them free. They glistened with my own arousal in the faint light. I didn’t know where to put them or how to hide them.
Diesel caught my wrist before I could. He brought my slick fingers to his mouth and — without breaking eye contact — sucked them clean.
A broken gasp escaped me. The wet heat of his tongue sent a fresh pulse of need straight to my core.
When he released my fingers, his voice dropped even lower, almost a growl.
“You’re soaked, little girl. Dripping just from thinking about me.” He leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. “A virgin who’s never been touched… and you’re already this desperate for my cock?”
How the fuck did he already figure out I’m a virgin? Does my look say so? The thought flashed through my mind, but the shame only made me wetter.
I whimpered again, thighs pressing together instinctively. The words should have embarrassed me more, but they only made me ache harder.
Diesel’s hand moved to my thigh, sliding up slowly under the hem of his shirt until his palm rested high on my bare skin, inches from where I was throbbing.
“You crossed a line tonight,” he rasped, the same dangerous tone from earlier. “And it might be hard to go back.”
His fingers brushed the edge of my panties, teasing, not quite touching where I needed him.
I was shaking. My first time ever feeling like this — raw, exposed, wanted. And it was him. The man everyone called a monster.
Diesel’s forehead pressed to mine, his breathing ragged.
“Tell me to stop,” he growled. “Tell me right now, Daisy, or I’m not going to be gentle.”
I opened my mouth… but no words came out.
Instead, my hips lifted just slightly, pressing into his hand like my body had already made the decision for me.
Diesel’s eyes flashed with dark satisfaction.
“That’s what I thought.”
His hand stayed high on my thigh, fingers teasing the edge of my soaked panties. The heat of his palm burned through my skin, making my core clench with need. I was trembling, a virgin who had never been touched like this, yet my body was begging for more.
He leaned in, forehead still pressed to mine, his breath hot and ragged. “You’re shaking, baby. Tell me you want this.”
“I… I do,” I whispered, voice breaking.
Diesel let out a dark smirk. “Guess I’m not the only one who’s fucked.”
“Touch me,” he ordered softly.
Diesel growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest into mine.
I didn’t know how. I was clumsy, inexperienced, but the need was too strong. My fingers found the hem of his shirt and tugged it up. He helped me, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. The sight of his bare chest hit me like a punch — hard muscle, dark ink swirling over his skin, scars that told stories I wanted to learn with my tongue. He was beautiful in the most dangerous way.
“Touch me,” he ordered again, guiding my hand to his chest.
My palm flattened against the warm, solid wall of him. His heart was pounding as hard as mine. I traced the lines of his tattoos, feeling the ridges of old scars. He watched me the whole time, eyes hooded, jaw tight like he was holding himself back with iron control.
Then he moved.
His mouth crashed down on mine again — deeper this time, no hesitation. His tongue swept in, claiming, tasting, and I moaned into the kiss, melting against him. One of his big hands slid under my shirt, cupping my breast, thumb brushing over my hard nipple. The sensation shot straight between my legs. I arched into his touch, gasping when he pinched lightly.
“Fuck, you’re sensitive,” he muttered against my lips. “Never been touched here?”
I shook my head, too lost to speak.
He groaned and lowered his head, pushing the shirt up until my breasts were bare. His mouth closed over one nipple, hot and wet, sucking hard enough to make me cry out. My fingers tangled in his hair, holding him there as pleasure rippled through me. He switched to the other side, teeth grazing, tongue soothing, until I was writhing beneath him.
The ache between my thighs was unbearable now. I rubbed them together, desperate for friction.
Diesel noticed. Of course he did.
He pulled back just enough to look at me, eyes dark as midnight. “You need more, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I breathed. “Please…”
He kissed me again, slower this time, while his hand traveled down my body. He hooked his fingers in my panties and tugged them down my legs. I lifted my hips to help, suddenly shy when the cool air hit my wet folds. But the shyness burned away when he settled between my thighs, his broad shoulders spreading me open.
“Look at you,” he rasped, voice full of raw hunger. “So fucking pretty and wet for me.”
His words made me clench around nothing. I was exposed, vulnerable, but the way he looked at me — like I was something precious and filthy at the same time — made me feel powerful and shameless.
He didn’t go straight for my clit. Instead, he kissed down my stomach, slow and deliberate, until his mouth hovered over my core. His hot breath teased me first. Then his tongue — flat and slow — licked a long stripe from my entrance to my clit.
I cried out, hips bucking.
Diesel’s hands gripped my thighs, holding me open. “Easy, baby. Let me taste you.”
He licked again, slower, savoring. Then he circled my clit with the tip of his tongue, gentle at first, then firmer. The pleasure was overwhelming. I had touched myself before, but this — his mouth, his tongue, the wet sounds filling the room — was nothing like my own fingers. It was raw. Intimate. Dangerous.
I moaned louder, fingers gripping the sheets. “Diesel… oh God…”
He growled against me, the vibration making me shudder. One thick finger teased my entrance, circling but not pushing in. “So tight. You’re going to feel so good when I finally fuck you.”
The dirty words sent another wave of heat through me. I was close already, the coil in my belly winding tighter with every flick of his tongue.
Then pain shot through my leg.
One of the bandages on my foot had shifted when I arched too hard. The cuts from running barefoot through the industrial yard burned sharp and sudden. I gasped, the pleasure mixing with the sting.
Diesel froze instantly. He pulled back, eyes scanning my face, then dropping to my bandaged feet.
“Shit,” he muttered, voice rough with regret. His hands gentled on my thighs. “Your feet. I forgot — fuck, Daisy, we need to stop.”
“No!” The word burst out of me, desperate and pleading. I reached for him, fingers digging into his shoulders. “Please don’t stop. It’s just a little pain. I can handle it. I want this. I want you.”
He looked torn — the monster fighting the protector. His jaw clenched, eyes dark with need, but he shook his head. “You’re hurt. I’m not going to make it worse.”
Tears pricked my eyes, not from pain but from the sudden fear he would pull away completely. The alcohol and the overwhelming want made me bold. I wrapped my legs around his waist — ignoring the sharp twinge — and pulled him closer until I could feel the hard length of him pressing against me through his jeans.
“Please,” I whispered, voice cracking. “Don’t stop. I’ve waited my whole life to feel something like this. Don’t make me wait anymore. I need you.”
Diesel groaned, forehead dropping to my shoulder. His hips rocked once, involuntarily, grinding his clothed cock against my bare, soaked pussy. The friction made us both moan.
“You’re killing me, baby,” he growled. “Such a sweet little virgin, begging me like this.”
He didn’t penetrate me. Instead, he shifted lower again, mouth returning to my clit with renewed hunger. Two thick fingers teased my entrance, pressing just the tips inside — stretching me gently, never fully entering. The fullness was new, overwhelming, perfect.
I rocked against his face and fingers, chasing the pleasure while the pain in my feet throbbed in the background. Every time I moved too hard, the sting flared, but I didn’t care. I wanted the burn. I wanted all of it.
Diesel sucked my clit into his mouth, tongue flicking fast, while his fingers curled just inside me, stroking a spot that made stars explode behind my eyes.
“Come for me,” he commanded against my flesh, voice dark and possessive. “Let me feel you fall apart on my tongue.”
The orgasm hit me like a storm.
My back arched off the bed. A loud, broken cry tore from my throat as pleasure crashed through me in waves. My walls clenched around the tips of his fingers, pulsing, flooding his mouth with my release. He didn’t stop — licking and sucking through every shudder, drawing it out until I was shaking and whimpering, oversensitive and boneless.
When the last tremor faded, Diesel kissed up my body slowly, gentle now. He pulled me into his arms, careful of my bandaged feet, and held me against his chest. His cock was still hard, straining against his jeans, but he made no move to take more.
“You’re dangerous, Daisy,” he murmured into my hair, voice raw. “Making me want things I shouldn’t.”
I nestled closer, my body still buzzing, pain in my feet mixing with the afterglow. For the first time in years, I felt alive. Wanted. Safe in the arms of the storm.
But deep down, I knew this was only the beginning.
And I couldn’t wait to cross every line with him.