Epilogue - Jackson #2
“I have one more gift if you’re up for it?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him, attempting to hide a grin as I lean my back against the kitchen island. “I guess as long as it doesn’t make me have another Feelings Fiasco. Still kind of drained from the last one.”
“I promise nothing,” he says with a grin of his own. On his way out of the kitchen, he stops to place a kiss on my cheek. “Be right back.”
He disappears into the hallway and returns a moment later with a small, square black box. It’s simple, no bow, no label. He hands it to me with that faint air of uncertainty I’ve come to recognize.
My fingers brush his as I take it from him, his warmth gliding across my skin. I lift the lid with a soft snick and peer inside.
I think my heart literally skips a beat.
It’s a lock.
A beautiful, anodized green lock. It’s sleek and minimal and discreet, easily mistakable for a round charm.
“I had it custom made.”
My throat tightens. “Isaac…”
His eyes meet mine, a little more steady and sure than a moment ago.
“We don’t have to put it on tonight. Or tomorrow.
It’s for whenever you’re ready and if it’s something you still want.
Even if you don’t want to wear it, it’s yours.
Because you need to know you’re mine in every way that matters, Jackson.
If I could physically tie you to me, I would.
But since I can’t, I’ll take what this represents if you’ll have it. ”
I would’ve stopped him a long time ago, before he could even get through telling me we don’t have to put it on. But I let him speak just so I could listen, so I could let his voice wrap around me like a separate pulse.
“Are you sure?”
His brow furrows. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
I look down at the lock again, at the reflection of the kitchen lights shimmering across its surface. I swallow and breathe deep.
“We haven’t had sex in three weeks, and…”
Isaac lifts his hand, his thumb brushing over my jaw before he places it beneath my chin to lift my face to his. His expression is pained, and I feel bad for putting it there.
“You think that’s all I want from you?”
“No. But…I expect it’s part of it.”
He made it clear that I’d have to be the one to let him know when I was ready to try because he refused to push. He knows I’ve never had a hard time asking for what I want, but I hate that I haven’t been able to.
It’s certainly not that I haven’t wanted to.
Last week, I asked him if I could have permission to come while I was alone so I could test things out for myself. He told me all our usual rules don’t apply until I’m ready to put them back in place.
So I made myself come in the shower that night and proved to myself that the thought of Isaac touching me still does it for me.
And he’s touched me plenty over the past few weeks. Holding me while we fall asleep. Lacing his fingers with mine while we watch movies. Touching my face, kissing me, little pokes and nudges while we cook.
It’s the other kind of touching I’m still not sure how I’ll react to.
“Jackson, I love you,” he says, catching my gaze with his again, his brown eyes holding sincerity. “I love your brilliant mind and your compassionate heart. There’s no timeline in place for anything else. I want you now—right now, just the way you are—and I’ll want you forever.”
Something inside me loosens.
“Good. Because I want to belong to you forever,” I whisper as I hold the box up between us. “Put it on me?”
He smiles and exhales a small breath. “Of course.”
Taking the box from me, he removes the lock and sets the box on the counter. He reaches into his pocket and takes out a small key in that same anodized green steel. Placing it in the lock, he turns it, and there’s a quiet click when it unlocks.
As he removes the O-ring from my collar, his gaze holds mine. I’m a willing prisoner as I let him bind me to him, knowing he’ll be the only one to ever hold the key.
The act of him replacing the clasp with the lock is intimate, but it’s also…erotic.
His eyes never leave mine as he threads the shackle through both ends of the chain and closes it, locking it.
I’m his.
The moment that certainty hits, the moment the echo of the lock clicking into place fades out, the moment the cool metal touches my skin…
I want him.
“Isaac…”
His name comes out a whispered moan.
“What is it, sweetheart?” he asks, innocently like he can’t see the arousal in my eyes.
But I know he sees it.
I lick my lips, my breath already coming out in pants.
“Touch me.”
He does slowly. First, it’s his forehead pressed lightly to mine, letting me see the desire growing in his eyes too. Then it’s his hands slipping beneath the hem of my shirt, fingertips ghosting over my skin. I shiver.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly.
“More.”
It’s an answer and a plea.
His fingers dip below the waistband of my jeans, testing and exploring while his eyes roam my face for any sign of distress.
He won’t find it.
“Isaac, please.” I keep my voice low between us like I’m afraid of scaring this away. “I want more.”
He pops the button of my jeans and reaches into my boxer briefs. His hand wraps around my thickening cock, and I think every bit of tension I’ve still been carrying around with me from this entire school year vanishes.
“Oh, fuck,” I groan, rolling my forehead against his until his warm breath is fanning over my jaw.
Pulling my dick out of my underwear, he gives me a light stroke and kisses my jaw.
“Do you want me to make you come, sweetheart?”
“Yes, please.” I tilt my head back as his mouth travels down to my throat. “I want you to come too.”
He places soft, tender kisses down the column of my throat, and I’m so lost in the feel of his lips and his hand around my cock that I don’t even register he’s undone his own jeans until his dick is pressed against mine.
I peer down and moan at the sight of us both in his hand.
“Look at me, Jackson.”
I do, and he leans his forehead against mine once more.
“This okay?”
“Yes. Please don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says as he strokes us both together. “I just want you to feel good.”
When his mouth moves back down, I tilt my head again. “Feel so good.”
“Good,” he says into my neck, growing increasingly breathless as his hand moves up and down our shafts, slicking us with precum. “Because I’m not going to last long.”
“Me neither.”
I last a few seconds longer than he does at least, which makes me wonder how long he had been denying himself.
Not that I can really focus on that as his release shoots out all over his hand and my cock.
The feel of it along with his groans of pleasure cause me to follow after until his hand is covered with both our cum.
We stay there for a moment after, his lips brushing the side of my neck, my eyes too heavy to open, a mess still between us.
Once Isaac has mostly caught his breath, he kisses my throat before pulling away to reach behind me.
He grabs a hand towel off the counter and cleans us both up with it.
Folding it in on itself, he rolls it into a ball so he can set it back down without anything touching the kitchen counter that probably shouldn’t.
Gripping me gently by the chin, he brings my face to his so he can look so deep into my eyes I think I might fall into his.
“How are you feeling sweetheart?”
“Perfect,” I mumble weakly.
“Are you sure?”
I can see the concern in his gaze, so I lift my hand to the side of his face. He leans into my palm as I swipe my thumb under his eye as though I can get rid of all the worry there.
“I’m perfect, Isaac. I swear. I’m so fucking happy.”
Those words seem to do it, and his panic fades.
“Me too,” he says, placing a soft kiss against my lips. “You make me so fucking happy.”