Page 60 of Nothing To Lose
TYLER
Of all the things Isaac has made me feel–safe, confident, aroused–right now the biggest thing I'm feeling feels an awful lot like love. It's too soon for that to be what it is. I'm sure my attention deprived daddy issues are to blame–but whatever name you put on it, I have big feelings.
Big, big feelings.
Feelings so big, they're expanding my chest to several times its normal capacity. My breaths are shaky and my lungs don't have the capacity I need to take a full breath. I'm dizzier now than the first days after my concussion, but in a euphoric way. Like a kid who's twisted their swing and let it go, watching the sky spin above them while they lean back and enjoy the ride.
Isaac leans in to kiss me again, deeper, and I want him to know that I'm ready. For all our fun and teasing, I know he's handling me with kid gloves to make sure I can handle whatever our next lesson will be. But I'm ready for it all.
That's not to say I don't have some reservations or apprehension about the logistics of things. Whether it'll hurt me. Whether I'll hurt him. Whether I'll be good enough. But I trust Isaac enough to walk me through it. And he's never touched me in a way that didn't make me desperate for more.
My fingers find the top button of the black dress shirt he's wearing, and I unfasten it. Slowly, I make my way down his chest, carefully popping each button open until I can slip the fabric from his shoulders. He's not wearing an undershirt, so his tattooed chest and chiseled torso are exposed to me. I run my fingers through every groove of his pecs and dip of his abs, and brush my palm over a rising bruise on his side.
You'd think the scars, tattoos, barbells, and bruises would scare me, that his rough-around-the-edges appearance would turn me off. He's so different from the polished country-club aesthetic I'm used to, but it only adds to the appeal. Every dangerous inch of him is beautiful.
Isaac presses forward, walking me backwards while he unbuttons my cardigan and lets it fall to the floor. He breaks our kiss for a moment to pull my shirt over my head, then looks down at my exposed chest.
Two weeks ago, I would have either covered myself or feigned some kind of false bravado, made a joke at my own expense. It's still unbelievable to me that Isaac, who looks the way he does, could want someone like me. But I see the raw appreciation in his dark eyes, and I feel it in the way he takes my mouth, kisses down my jaw, and slowly lowers himself to his knees as he trails kisses lower. My fingers thread into his hair, gripping lightly as his tongue dips into my belly button and his deft fingers pop the button of my jeans. They slide down my legs, his lips following all the way down to my feet, the tops of which he kisses as he eases my pants off each leg. He stares up at me like he worships me, eyes glued to mine as he leans forward and mouths my cock through the fabric of my underwear.
"These are nice," he murmurs, the vibration of his breath making me weak in the knees.
I felt a little silly buying the dark blue silk briefs, but at the moment I feel… powerful. Desirable.Sexy.
The pouch on the front cups my balls and shaft perfectly, except now that I'm hard, my cock presses against the fabric, making it gap at the front. A dot of pre-cum soaks through the dark blue silk, which Isaac licks and sucks into his mouth, making the wet spot spread. His hands smooth up the backs of my legs to my ass, then guide me to turn around. The cheeky cut of the briefs almost gives the illusion of curves, cupping my cheeks and leaving the bottom crease exposed. He runs his lips and tongue through those creases now, then noses at the crack of my ass. A shiver runs through me, remembering the way he licked and sucked there just the other day. I'd been so embarrassed at first, so completely shocked that he was licking my asshole of all things, but then he moaned like he loved it, and I relaxed into the sensation. I've never felt so completely devoured—literally and figuratively. It was so base and raw. Primal. And it gave me pleasure I didn't know was possible. After that, what could I possibly be shy about? The memory has me pressing my ass against his face, moaning at the sensation of his hot breath over my hole as he puffs his breath through the fabric.
"As sexy as these are, I want you bare for me, kitten. I want to get this gorgeous cock ready so you can take me."
So I can take him…
He notices my hesitation. Of course he does. He's so in tune with my body, he can read every need, no matter how subtle. He stands, unbuttoning his dark jeans and letting them fall open, exposing the dark hair at his groin. I want to rub my face in it and purr, like the kitten he says I am.
"You're not wearing anything," I rasp, leaning forward to slip my hand into the front of his pants. My fingers wrap around his heated, silky skin, giving the hard length of him a slow, firm stroke. He groans and bites his lip, which I lean forward and steal from him, pulling the flesh from his teeth between mine. He lets out another groan, this one accompanied by an almost frenzied kiss, deep and salacious. The backs of my calves hit the mattress, and he gently pushes against my chest to signal he wants me on the bed. I fall back, scooting backwards as Isaac climbs over me, settling himself between my legs and retaking my mouth.
We writhe against each other, tongues tangling, moaning, gasping for breath between desperate kisses. I push his pants down, wanting the friction of his bare skin over my silk covered cock. He lifts the bottom of his body, letting me push the fabric down his legs with my feet, then kicks it off before returning to his place. We kiss and rut against each other until I'm positive I'm going to bust too early again, and I have to pull back to take a breather.
"You're sure you want me to…" I breathe heavily, my skin feeling flushed all over. "What if I do it wrong? Maybe you should do me first?—"
He chuckles against my collarbone, gently licking into the dip of my throat, then up to my Adam's apple. His teeth graze it and my hips raise in response, desperate for more of his delicious friction.
"We can do it however you want to, Tyler. There are no rules."
I take a deep breath, my thoughts growing too loud. All the things I've overheard, all the things that have been said to me over the years, all the assumptions that have been made, both by me and the people around me. Guy's behavior flashes in my memory, snippets of things he said to me when we fought that night.
"You're built like a twelve-year-old girl. I guess I'd fuck you, just to show you who's boss. I bet you'd take me like a bitch, wouldn't you? Is that what you want?"
"Your father is whoring you out for connections. He'll give you to me, and you'll be my personal cum dumpster."
Isaac moves to settle himself over me, putting his weight on one elbow so he can use his other hand to swipe the hair from my forehead and run his thumb down the length of my nose.
He kisses me gently. "I think you have some negative feelings about sex, especially the idea of penetration. Maybe because of something that happened–"
My gaze snaps to his, ready to defend myself. The words tumble out so fast, I can’t get a clear sentence out. "That didn't happen, I'm not– I'm still a– I haven't done anything, except with you."
"Tyler, whatever happened isn't your fault. And it has no impact on your value as a human being, as a partner, as a lover…" He runs his nose along my jaw and kisses it. "We don't have to do everything or anything tonight. We can take everything at your pace. I want you to enjoy it, baby. You go somewhere else when we talk about it, and I don't want it to impact your pleasure. I want you to feel good."
There's a heaviness in his words that makes me think he might not believe me, or that he thinks I'm too damaged to do this. I close my eyes, thinking of what to say—how much truth I can give him to let him know I'm ready to move past this. I want this with him. I'm scared of the power exchange, of what the dynamics mean for our budding relationship. Of whether he'll resent me for being weak, or the expectation that he makes himself vulnerable to make me feel better about myself.
"He didn't do it, but it was… implied. Threatened, I guess," I admit, eyes filling with tears. "He could have done it, because I was too weak. I just laid there, and if he'd actually tried, what would I have been able to do about it?"
