51. Isaac
Chapter 51
Isaac
A n overwhelming fluttering sensation vibrates through my entire body when Jo’s lips meet the skin of my neck. In the months that I’ve lived in this new apartment, I’ve never realized how god damn long this hallway is. I need her more than I need oxygen.
Jo’s breasts press against my chest as we reach the door to my bedroom, the curtains still drawn wide open from our daylight hours.
“I need you to promise me something,” I say as I approach my bed, fully made with the new duvet and pillows that I panic-bought after my last night here with Jo. She pulls away from me just enough to meet my eye. The street lamps outside cast a gentle glow on the side of her face.
“Anything,” she says, searching my eyes for meaning.
“You have to keep letting me in your brain. I want to know what you’re thinking.” I pause, trying to find the right words to express the importance of her comfort and trust in me. “I just need to see inside, okay?”
Jo unwraps her legs from my waist, letting me balance her body weight in my arms for only a moment before her feet hit the carpeted bedroom floor. Her eyes are huge, twinkling with possibility and longing.
“Okay,” she responds, quiet and unsure. “I’ll try.”
She stands there in front of me, bare from the waist up, and I force myself to pause and take her in. The soft curve of her stomach. The gentle slope of her breasts.
Jo’s arms clasp around her chest, hiding herself, as blotchy red patches appear on her chest and neck. “Hey,” I say as I take a step towards her, wrapping my fingers around her arms. “No more hiding from me.”
We fall back into the mattress, a chaotic tangle of breathless kisses and bare skin. My hand feels blindly for the zipper of Jo’s skirt, but the darkness of the room makes it impossible.
“I need this off now, ” I demand, pushing Jo flat onto her back with a palm to her chest. She starts laughing, her unhinged giggles filling the silence. “Why are you laughing, Jocelyn?”
The sweet sound of her joy penetrates my bones, but she doesn’t answer. If we’re being honest, it’s a little damaging to my confidence in this moment. Her laughter continues as she shifts to sit, her face just inches from mine.
“I just never remember seeing you like this,” she continues between giggles. “So commanding.”
It’s true. My hand continues its search for the zipper to her skirt, running my fingertip along the edge of the fabric. Jo shivers, her laughter fading into nothing.
“You may not remember, but you loved it last time.” My fingers find the zipper and I pull, listening to the release of each individual tooth. The sound of Jo’s breathing becomes ragged, even more chaotic with every inch closer to releasing her from the confines of the houndstooth-patterned material.
“Stop teasing me, Isaac.” Jo’s hand grabs mine and yanks the zipper down the rest of the way. She pushes the fabric with both palms, exposing black lace that makes my brain short-circuit and my dick ache. She lays back down on the mattress, and I take her cue, grabbing the lace and removing both it and her skirt in one pull. The fabrics fall to the floor at the bedside as I drag my gaze up the skin of her legs and thighs, pausing only where her hands have landed over a small collection of hair.
“I told you to stop hiding from me,” I assert, grabbing her wrists and securing them above her head. My body weight falls on top of her, and my lips meet the side of her neck. She squirms, widening her legs to let me situate myself between them more comfortably.
“I’m embarrassed I didn’t shave,” she admits, sounding defeated. I rock my hips against hers in response, a quiet moan escaping the back of my throat. I pull my lips from her skin, catching her eyes with mine in the dim room.
“You think I fucking care about a little hair?” My voice comes out even more low and growly than I anticipated. I nip her ear, eliciting a gasp. My grasp tightens where I hold her wrists against the pillow above her head. “I have waited years for this.” My free hand skims against the curve of her breast, pinching her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
“I know you’re trying to warm me up, but I’m already on fire.” Jo wiggles free from my grasp, and her hands fly to my zipper, pulling the denim haphazardly. “I am going to spontaneously combust.” She pulls the fabric over my hips, waiting for me to remove them the rest of the way. I push myself up to standing and kick my jeans off, standing above her. “Those too,” she adds quietly.
A rush of nervous energy courses through my veins as I push the cotton fabric of my boxer briefs down my thighs. Jo watches, unblinking, as my erection springs free. I press one knee into the bed, pulling open the drawer of my side table and feeling for the condom that Liam insisted on leaving here the other day.
I’ll have to thank him later.
“Please,” Jo says, scooting herself up the mattress so her head lands on my pillow. My eyes have become accustomed to the low light of the primary bedroom, and I can make out the small smirk plastered to her face as she watches me roll the condom over my length. “You’ve already made me wait twelve years, please don’t make me wait another second.”
“No more waiting.” I crawl onto the bed and push her thighs apart, situating myself between her legs once more. Balancing my weight on one arm, I use my free hand to palm my cock and press the tip against her clit. Jo moans, unbridled, and shifts her hips to meet me.
“More, Isaac.”
I watch her face intently, watching for any signs of hesitation or regret, but I see none. All I see right now is the face of lust and all the love we’ve held for each other all these years. Jo nods, answering my question before I can even verbalize it. She accepts me as I push forward with my hips, sliding into her with as much control as I can muster.
“Yes, Isaac.”
She is wet. So incredibly wet. It takes every fiber of my body to start a slow rhythm, pumping in and out of her. She shifts under me, lifting her thighs and squeezing them against my hips. Jo’s hands cup the back of my neck and pull me into her, crashing her lips to mine, and I’m toast.
I pull back, resting my forehead against hers. “This is going to be incredibly embarrassing for me.” She laughs, wrapping her legs around my torso and thrusting her hips forward to meet me as I bottom out. “God dammit, you are perfect,” I breathe out, pressing my lips against hers once more.
Leaning back, I grasp her thighs and pull her towards me, watching as her hair splays against the pillow. Maintaining my pace, my thumb finds her clit and begins rubbing gently, back and forth.
“Tell me what you like.” I explore gently, working my way around in a circle, looking for the best spot to build her up. “Tell me, Jocelyn.”
“There,” she blurts, grabbing my wrist and holding it still. “Right there, please.”
My thumb goes to work, slow and steady. I don’t even know how much time passes, but I know my legs are numb. The tingle as the base of my spine has reached the point of no return, but this has to be good for her. I need this to be good for her.
“Isaac,” she squeezes her thighs against me again, squirming uncomfortably. “Please for the love of God, don’t stop.” Her breathing becomes erratic, and I can feel the pulsations of her orgasm as I move in and out of her.
The combination of Jo moaning my name and squeezing my cock with her perfect pussy has me spiraling into my own earth-shattering orgasm. The self-control that kept me paced disappears, and I thrust into her for the last time, holding myself still until I’m completely spent.
Holy shit.
“Jo, don’t fall asleep yet.” I shake her gently when her breathing steadies. She groans, swatting at my chest without even opening her eyes.
“Leave me alone. You just ruined me forever.”
I smirk, reveling in my success.
“No, Jo. Please get up and go pee. You will hate me forever if you end up with a UTI.” I rub my palm against the skin of her shoulder. The blur of the last hour combined with the vision of Jo wrapped up in my blanket has me floating.
“I already hate you,” she growls, rolling towards the end of the bed. The shouts and laughter of drunk college students echo through the window I opened moments after I finally recovered from the orgasm of a lifetime. I would never be able to sleep in the inferno we created, but a frigid breeze has worked its magic on the temperature of the room.
Jo’s bare feet pad across the carpeted space towards the bathroom, and I catch a quick glimpse of her ass when she flips on the light.
“I knew you had a nice ass, but it’s like, really nice,” I yell over the sound of her emptying her bladder.
“I hate you,” she echoes back, followed by the sound of the toilet flushing. “Do you have some sort of NSAID? I’m probably gonna get a migraine after all that.” The sound of her nervous laughter drowns out the splash of running water from the bathroom sink.
“In the cabinet over the sink,” I volley back. The flat sheet is tangled around my legs, but I manage to break free and push myself to standing. I grab a fresh pair of boxer briefs from my top dresser drawer and pull them up my legs and thighs. “I’ll grab us some water and a snack.”
By the time I return from the kitchen with two glasses of water and a bag of cheddar and sour cream chips—Jo’s favorite—she’s standing in the middle of the room in my dirty t-shirt with her arms folded across her chest. Holding a glass out towards her hesitantly, I try to determine if the chill in the air is from the open window or her.
“Uh, everything okay?” She snatches the glass from my hand, throwing back two small orange pills and two large gulps of water. After Jo sets the water glass down on my bedside table, she turns to face me again, hands now on her hips.
She raises her right hand and gestures wildly at the bathroom door. “Care to explain that ?”