Page 42 of Diesel

I stiffen at the mention of my uncle. Him or Sax would jump at the chance to take what’s mine. It’s one of the reasons I always keep people at arm’s length, and someone like Cyrus would be a way to manipulate my father. Emory wants out of this school, and Sax just wants what’s mine and always has. Let’s not even get on the subject of my father and how he manipulates people in and out of my life to suit him. If he thought for one second that I had genuine feelings for Cyrus, he would rip her out from underneath me out of spite and just hand her to my cousin or uncle.

My phone rings before I can be more persuasive about the shower.

“Hello.”

“Son, your mother wants you to come for dinner tonight.” I go to refuse, but he doesn’t give me a chance. “It’s not negotiable and bring the girl, your mother wants to meet the girl her son is smitten with.” I walk into the closet; I don’t want Cyrus to hear this.

“I’m not smitten, who even says that anymore?” I seethe. “You want to do business with her father, that much is obvious, and I’m being a good little minion.”

My father laughs. “If you say so. Bring the girl. See you at seven and don’t be late.”

He cuts the call. He must know what he is doing, there is no way she is going to agree to come to dinner and meet my parents. That’s a massive red flag when someone does that so soon in a relationship or even a friendship.

“Hey, Cyrus,” I say, walking back into the room. She swings around on her chair to face me.

“Yeah?”

I take a deep breath. “My father just called and summoned me to dinner. He wants you to come.”

Her back goes stiff when I mention my father. “Um,” she says wide eyed.

“Look, I know this is weird, but my father always gets his way. He will sit at the table, put me down for ten minutes, get a business call, and we won’t see him for the rest of the night. I would love for you to meet my mum.”

She looks at me and thinks it over. “Fine, you go and shower, and I will finish this.”

I find myself smiling at her, something I haven’t fucking stopped doing since she arrived at Briar. I race around the room and head to the shower, knowing this is a terrible idea and my father is up to something, but if anyone can handle my father, it’s Cyrus.

Once I’m showered and back in the room, it’s empty. Mumbles and curses reach my ears, and I find Cyrus in the closet, sorting through her clothes, standing in nothing but her underwear. I stalk up behind her, spinning her around to face me. She surprises me by taking charge and walking us backwards until my back is pressed against the far wall. She runs her hands down my chest, and my cock stands to attention, pressing against the towel wrapped around my waist.

“Maybe we could skip dinner and stay in,” she whispers, pressing her lips to my skin, just below my collar bone.

“I might be able to be persuaded.”

Her lips move down my stomach slowly, and she kneels before me and looks up at me with her big blue eyes. I stare down at her wondering how the fuck I got so lucky to have something so beautiful that’s mine. Even if it is temporary, there is no way I could keep her.

She undoes my towel with shaky hands, and my dick springs free. The sight of her licking her lips has my stomach in knots.

What the fuck is wrong with you, Diesel? Grab her hair and thrust right in and see her eyes water and spit slide down your cock.

I link my fingers through her hair, and her mouth slides ever so slowly over the head. “Are you sure? Because we will still need to go to dinner unless you fancy my father coming here himself to get us.”

She pulls back, and I pop from her mouth. “Diesel, just shut up and fuck my mouth.”

My jaw hangs open. I don’t know what happened between her finishing her maths and me showering, but I’m not complaining.

“Thank fuck, if you’re a good girl I will take you to our private jetty, bend you over the railing, and fuck you senseless after dinner.”

She takes me back into her mouth and hums in agreement. I watch as she bobs up and down, taking me further inside every time until she can’t go any further. My hand twists tighter in her hair, guiding her with each thrust, her tongue warm against the base of my shaft. She swirls it around the head every now and again, sending shock waves down my spine. I have never thought of anything beyond cumming when getting blown but with her, the way her lips move and her tiny hand wrapped around the base, her thumb rubbing up and down my sack has me ready to blow my load within minutes.

I pull back when I feel it, popping from her mouth, just in time as cum squirts onto her chin before sliding slightly down her neck.

I pull her to her feet, her hair is a mess, and her lips are swollen with my cum on her face. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

I lift her and throw her over my shoulder, and she makes a little squeak. I walk out of the closet and into our room, flopping her down onto my bed so her legs hang over the end.

“Diesel, you don’t have to,” she protests.

“Like hell I don’t.” I say, pulling her underwear down her legs and throwing them onto the floor.

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