Page 56 of Second Story

I feel it—feel him tremble too as my hands lower, skimming from the sharp blades of his shoulders to the twin curves of his arse. I can’t think about anything else then but how each cheekfills my hand, how hard and hot his dick is between us, and I have to break off kissing.

I inhale steam and soak up a fucking vision. He’s always been golden to me. In this shower, he’s almost silvered like when I turned around in the sea to find him telling me that someone would miss me. Falling water does that silvering today, the head of his dick a deep pink contrast that matches well-kissed lips, and that’s what I want next.

My mouth on him.

The shower isn’t built for two. I can only touch where I want my mouth and tell him, then hurry to make a blow job happen. I’m pretty sure I shut off the water. Isaac must find towels.They weren’t on the floor when we entered.

Now a pile rests on tile for me to kneel on, so I get busy again, opening up for the dick he feeds me, and I love that he doesn’t hold back, love his hold on my throat even more, like he needs to feel where he reaches. That touch becomes my anchor, holding me in place as he rocks, slow and shallow at first, then deepening.

I look up, blinking away a blur I can’t blame on steam or shower water, and this is what I’ll remember if Luke Lawson says no to my proposal, this version of Isaac where he’s flushed and focused on me.

I’m his focal point as he gets close. I taste it, precome sharp on my tongue, a surprise spurt that leads to me choking. Only for a moment, then Isaac’s on my level, but hasn’t that always been the case when it comes to him and me? He’s on his knees, one hand on my aching dick, one hand on his own, getting both of us closer, but the only level that really matters is that we’ve both dropped our guards. Right now, he’s the sole person I’ve got bare for without hesitation.

Have I even thought about how I look to him?

Not even once since this got started.

He fists my dick and I return that favour, both of us panting into each other’s mouths, and fuck, he’s so, so good at kissing. Good, too, at forward thinking.

“You got condoms?”

I do, even if I skid on our scattered clothes on my way out of the bathroom to dig through my bag for what we need. He reaches past me for lube, and I couldn’t have sworn on a Bible that there was an armchair in this bedroom until he throws a towel over it before resting a foot on its seat cushion.

He reaches behind himself with slick and shining fingers, and if I’ve ever been so desperate to get inside someone, I don’t remember.

Isaac parts his own cheeks, hands slipping on skin still wet from the shower, and my world slips from its axis the second I see where he’ll open for me.

He looks over his shoulder, and for one disorientating moment, this could be a repeat of the very first time I saw him. Back then, he was shocked. He’s shocked again when I crouch behind him, my mouth close to where he was about to push in those slick fingers, and he nods in answer to me sounding even rougher than I have already.

“Yes?”

For another intense second, we aren’t in a bedroom. We’re back where I first found him curled around a book with no clue his world was about to shatter and I asked him if he was prepared to be a stand-in parent. Now, nothing about him sounds broken. “Yes. Yeah. Fucking do it.”

He’s physical instead of passive, almost aggressive about pushing back against my tongue, and tonight’s iteration of Isaac is worlds away from the version that couldn’t lift police tape without me to do it for him.

I shielded him then. Now I don’t need to. Not from this.

I lick him, and he shudders like my mouth does something seismic, but he doesn’t crumple. He pushes back again, and I point my tongue to breach him. I never fit another person like I do him. Didn’t know how it would feel to be the cause of him shaking and clutching, for these repeats of my name, and Isaac isn’t as shy about stating what he needs from me.

“Don’t fucking stop.”

I won’t, and I don’t until he’s sloppy and his knees buckle.

He grabs me then, dragging me up for a kiss and if that wasn’t surprising, his arms locking around me so tightly is. I roll with it, then roll on a condom I lube up, and we’re right beside a bed but I’ve got Isaac-related tunnel vision, so this chair is where I fuck him.

He kneels on the seat cushion, and I notch my cock to where I’ve made him wet, then push.

Isaac hisses. So do I at his tight heat and at the sight of his hold on the back of the armchair tightening like he tightens around my dick. He hisses again, only it comes with an order.

“All at once.”

I’ve had a long week to think about giving Isaac whatever he wants. Now I pause. Not because I don’t believe he knows what he can handle.

I can’t help doubting myself.

This might just kill me.

Waves crash outside against the harbour like I crash against him.

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