Page 54 of Wicked Pickle

I try to grasp the bedding, but it’s taut and won’t crumple in my grip. I go for my head instead, holding tight as Diesel dives deeply inside with his tongue, then his fingers.

The dark ride begins, my muscles drawing together where he works me, vibrating with each movement, each angle, each movement.

A keening cry rises in me. It’s happening so fast again, almost too quickly. I want this to last, to draw out.

But Diesel knows me now, more than yesterday, and lifts a free hand to clutch my neck.

The fall into oblivion pauses, the stars coming out to glimmer in the dark. What little light seeps into the room is lost in his tight grip. My body thrums, waiting on time to resume, but the pleasure remains, beating like an open heart.

Just when I think it’s starting to slip, he lets go, releasing my breath and using that hand to spread me for a deep plunge.

As air fills my lungs, my whole body comes alive at once, bursting with sparks and color and the most intense full-body orgasm I never knew was possible.

I might scream or cry. I’m not sure. I realize my throat is open and maybe raw. My elbows fall to the bed. I’m outside of myself, then fall back in, and I’m openly weeping, my ears tickling with tears.

I suck in a shuddering breath and look down. Diesel’s dark hair is below my belly, spreading soft kisses over my skin.

Jesus Christ, what was that? What the absolute fuck was that?

My mind feels erased.

I had no idea such a feeling could even exist.

CHAPTER 18

DIESEL

The neighbors might have heard that one.

Symphony covers her face with both arms. There isn’t much light, but I can see the edges of her against the pale bedspread.

“You all right?” I ask.

She clears her throat. Yeah, it might be sore. She called out to the universe. Her reaction was like night and day after having to keep it chill at the wedding reception.

I like it.

“I’m all right,” she says, her voice rough.

“Good.”

I slide my hand along her inner thigh. When my thumb grazes her sweet, wet pussy, she sucks in a breath.

“This all right?”

“Yeah. Just sensitive.”

I run the pad of my fingers lightly over her. “I like sensitive.”

She shivers.

I continue the light touch against her, letting her recover before I move on. She’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

“Are—are you going to do more?” She almost seems trepidatious like she can’t handle anything else.

“I am.” I lean forward to run my tongue along her clit again.

Her breath hitches. “What now?”