Page 68 of Nothing To Lose
I pull his shirt over his head before pulling him up the bed, then over me as I lay back on the mattress. He kisses me deep and meaningfully, stroking his tongue against mine, like he can feed me his love by putting it into my body with his. Which I can get on board with. Because I want him tonight.
"I want you inside me," I whisper against his mouth after he breaks our kiss to pull my shirt off. He stares down at me with soft eyes for a moment, then dips his head and kisses across my jaw and down my neck.
He works his way down my body, pulling the pair of boxers I stole from him down my legs before settling between my legs. His tongue laves through the creases of my thighs and swirls over my balls. He kisses and licks up and down my shaft, sucking at the tender flesh of my perineum in a way that has me whimpering.
Isaac pushes my knees against my chest and lowers his mouth to my hole. He has it and me wet and pliant in minutes. I'm writhing against his face, begging him for more.
I'm used to taking his fingers now, but he's never spread me to get me ready for more. It's a heady sensation knowing he's stretching me open, pushing lube inside me, getting me ready to take him into my body.
There's zero trepidation. Zero fear. Zero doubts. There's only love, and trust, and desperate need.
When I'm begging and rocking on his three thick fingers, he finally takes pity on me. Draping his body over mine, he never stops kissing me as he lines himself up and slowly pushes inside.
There's pressure. Maybe a pinch of pain, but it quickly dissolves.
Most of what I feel is an overwhelming fullness. Not just physically. I feel him in my chest, in the butterflies in my stomach. He's wrapped around my brain in such a way that I can't see past him. He's rushing through my veins and pumping through my arteries. He's filling my lungs, becoming part of the molecules that make me a living, breathing person.
"Are you okay?" he asks, holding himself flush against me.
I nod and shift my hips, wordlessly telling him to move. I'm incapable of words. I'm too full.
Isaac gently rolls his hips, pulling out and thrusting into me smooth and slow. He kisses me deeply with every other thrust. The rest of the time he's giving me all his words.
"You're so amazing."
"Fucking perfect."
"You feel so good, fit so perfect."
"I love you."
Pressure starts to build, warmth gathering at the base of my spine and slowly radiating outward. Isaac hears my body loud and clear, moving his hips in shorter, faster thrusts that hit that spot inside me, tightening the band of pressure into something imminent and dangerously intense.
Isaac wraps his hand around my sensitive cock, his hand shuttling up and down my length in time with his thrusts, and the band grows tighter still. When I look up into his dark eyes, the black depths swimming with emotion, it becomes almost painful. I can't breathe through the heaviness of it.
When it breaks, it's more than a physical detonation. Every one of my synapses explodes into pleasure that shoots outward to my toes and the follicles of my hair. It's a detonation of everything that holds me together–my pride, my anxiety, my well-honed sense of self preservation. Warmth bursts over my stomach, deep inside my core, and pours from my eyes as I hold on to Isaac with every bit of strength I have left.
He holds me and kisses me through it, whispers the affirmations I've become reliant on.
I'm not ready for him to pull out, to leave my body. The aftershocks of the physical release have passed, but I'm still reeling emotionally. I almost cry harder when Isaac pulls out of my body, but either he knows me on a level that should scare me, or I've said something out loud and not realized it. Because when he settles behind me, pulling my back against his chest and wrapping his arms around me tight enough to hold me together, he slides back inside me. I fall asleep with Isaac consuming every part of me.
I wake up later to a warm cloth being run over my abdomen, thighs, and ass.
"Are you wiping my ass?" I say groggily.
Isaac's laughter is soul cleansing. And when he lays back beside me and hugs me to him, chest to chest, I have the overwhelming need to thank him. Not for wiping my ass, exactly, and not even for taking care of me, but for caring for me, for accepting me for who I am. For saving me in every conceivable way.
He's everything.
There aren't enough words to describe what he means to me, so I give him the most important truth that has both torn me apart and kept me together.
"I love you, too."
Life threw us together in a brutal and intense way. It's been a whirlwind that has spun my entire world on its axis. But I love him more than I've loved anyone else in my entire life, more than I love myself. And there isn't a thing in this world I wouldn't do for him.
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ISAAC
