Page 57 of Survival

But I can fix that. Some part of it, at least.

My nerves were crawling under my skin, a mix of fear and excitement running through me, and my stomach swooped when Tucker came out of the bathroom.

God, was he exquisite. The way his t-shirt hugged all of the delicious muscles along his chest and arms and the way he ran his hand back through his hair, the damp blonde strands falling along his brow. My core clenched just watching him, and I knew in that moment, feeling my body actually crave his once again, that I could do this.

I pulled the covers back, inviting him to join me, and he crawled in, wrapping his arms around me in our usual embrace, but he was far from relaxed. The tension from the end of our night still wound tightly through his muscles.

That just wasn’t going to do.

Pressing a gentle kiss to his chest, I ran my fingers along his arm. Stroking slowly, I moved them down to his stomach, feeling the lines of his abs through his shirt. I traced each one until I reached the bottom of the material and slipped my hand underneath, touching his bare skin beneath his clothes for the first time in months. I shifted, bringing one of my legs over to straddle his waist, and leaned down to kiss at his shoulder, his neck, his jaw, trailing along its strong line until I reached his lips.

Tucker barely moved. Barely reacted. Though I felt the beat of his heart rushing against the hand I had resting on his chest. I brushed my lips over his again and then leaned back, finding the questions in his eyes.

My own gaze asked him to trust me. To let me…to letusexplore. I wasn’t sure how far I could go, but Iwould try.

Swallowing, Tucker ran his hands along my back, pulling me close again to bring me into another kiss. I nibbled at his lips, asking for entrance, and he swept my tongue up with his, slow and deep, like he was claiming me all over again. My hand ran up through his hair, gripping with a soft tug, and I moved my lips to his neck, sucking and nipping and doing everything I could think of to drive him wild. Still, he held back, his hands only resting at my waist.

Wanting more, needing to test it. To see what I could do. For him. For us. I grabbed his hand and placed it on my breast. He paused for only a moment and then caressed, the pressure gentle and sure, and I moaned, pleasure washing over me as his thumb brushed over its peak.

I took his other hand and slipped it beneath my shirt, and as if he’d only been waiting for permission, he slid it up along my stomach and over my ribs, bringing it to my other breast to pinch my nipple. I hissed in a breath, my hips nearly grinding against his, and he ran his hand along me, skin against sensitive skin to soothe the sting.

“Fuck, princess, how I’ve missed those sounds,” he growled, and I met his gaze, finding desire swirling in those whiskey depths. My core clenched, nerves swooping through my middle once again. Was I really ready for this? Could I do this?

Terror struck me then because I didn’t think so. I wanted him so much. I wanted us the way we used to be, but I wasn’t ready. I needed time.

“We can stop,” he offered, watching the emotions play over my face, and frustration flashed through me. I fought back the urge to cry, overwhelmed, and shook my head.

“I don’t want to. I want this. I want us. I can’t do everything, but I can do some.” I pressed my hands to his abs again, determined, and Tucker brought one of his hands to my waist as his other caressed over my breast again.

“You tell me the second you think it’s going too far.”

I nodded, and he pulled me down to kiss him again, our hands exploring each other’s bodies. He stayed focused on my chest where he knew it was safe, eventually pulling away my top to replace his hands with his lips, and I was a panting, moaning mess under his tongue. My body was so starved for the connection and his touch.

“Can I?” He eventually slid his hand down my stomach, his fingers resting at the waist of my pajama bottoms, and I instantly tensed, knowing what he would feel if I let him cross that threshold. That scar that would forever mock me, making me hate my body and all the memories it triggered.

I shook my head, but his fingers were already retreating, the mood shifting. I felt his disappointment, though I knew he’d never say it, and I couldn’t stand to leave it like this. It had been such a perfect night.

Pulling from the last recesses of my bravery, pushing the boundaries I’d set so firmly in place, I pressed Tucker back down to the bed, trailing my hands down his stomach, and slipped my fingertips below the waist of his sweats.

“Izzy.” Questions flooded the single word, asking if I was sure, begging me not to if I wasn’t. I looked up at him from where I crouched over his legs, his breaths shallow in anticipation.

“Let me.”

Slowly, I pulled down his sweats, and like I knew it would, his cock sprang free, glorious and fully erect. I stared. It had been so long since I’d seen him, and then I reached out to run my palm along his hard length. Tucker hissed, and his hips jerked into my touch.

“Fuck, princess. Don’t tease. Please.” His voice was strained. Begging. And I smirked, a rush flowing through me at the power I held over him at that moment.

“Don’t worry, whiskey. I won’t.”

I grasped him then, wrapping my fingers around the soft, hard steel, and ran my hand up his length to the head before stroking all the way back down. I’d touched him before, but never like this. Not with my full rapt attention. And definitely never with what I was about to do. But tonight was about testing the waters. I couldn’t give Tucker everything yet, but I could give him what he needed. A piece of it, at least.

Leaning forward, I flicked my tongue over the tip of his cock, and he hissed, bucking into my hand again. I smiled, loving his reaction, and wrapped my mouth around the head, swirling my tongue around him, experimenting.

“Oh, God.” Tucker ran his hands over his face as he shuddered. “Grip the base,” he directed, reaching down to guide my hand. “And do what you did with your tongue again.”

I quickly did what he asked, wanting this to be good for him. Terrified that I wouldn’t be.

I swirled my tongue again and followed the rhythm he showed me with my hand, licking and sucking. I paid attention to his sounds, what made him moan, leaving no part of him ignored. Every inch of his cock got my attention, and when his hands gripped the sheets and hecursed, a different kind of pleasure coursed through me because I was in control. His pleasure was mine, just like when he used to let me take control during sex.

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