12. Chapter 12
Chapter 12
R osie lay tangled into him, her chest rising and falling, her skin still damp with sweat, heat still lingering in every inch of her body.
What the fuck had she done?
Isaac was still holding her. Still kissing her, touching her, taking more—like he couldn’t help himself, like he was trying to keep her here.
And the worst part?
She was letting him.
Her fingers traced along his jawline, her lips meeting his, slow and indulgent. Licking against his tongue, tasting him, teasing him, drinking him in.
Her body was doing one thing, her mind screaming another.
How was she supposed to think when he was everywhere?
His big, rough hands moved over her like he was mapping her, memorizing her, one sliding down her waist, the other teasing slow, distracting circles on her thigh.
Like she wasn’t his oldest friend.
Like she was something brand fucking new.
God, she hated him.
Hated how easy it was to sink into this, to sink into him, even when her brain was begging her to run. Fuck this felt too good.
“Isaac,” she said, pulling her mouth from his, her forehead pressing against his, her hands slipping up into his hair.
He hummed, distracted, his lips trailing down her jaw, his fingers still fucking playing with her, teasing, tormenting, making her breath shudder.
“What are we doing?” she whispered.
Isaac exhaled hard, his forehead still pressed to hers.
“Don’t fucking know,” he admitted, his breath warm against her lips.
Her chest tightened.
“But I know I want this.” His voice was low, serious, too real.
Her stomach twisted.
She turned her head, trying to look anywhere but at him. “Isaac…”
His grip tightened on her waist.
“Stop,” he said, quiet but firm.
She swallowed. “Stop what?”
“Thinking. Looking for the exit. Whatever the fuck is happening in your head right now.”
And then—he kissed her again.
Deeper. Hungrier.
Like he was trying to shut her up, to make her forget everything except the way he was touching her.
His hands slid up her waist, over her ribs, palming her breasts, rolling his thumbs over her nipples, making her breath shudder.
“You’ve been hiding this all from me,” he muttered against her lips.
Her stomach clenched.
“It was never yours,” she whispered.
Isaac grinned, dark, knowing.
“Is now.”
Her jaw clenched. “Be realistic.”
Isaac exhaled sharply, like he was already bracing for a fight. But he wouldn’t stop touching her. He traced slow, lazy circles down her stomach, over her thigh, gripping it and pulling it high over his hip.
His voice dropped, kissing her throat, sucking just enough to make her whimper.
“Realistic about what?”
“This,” she whispered, holding onto his shoulders. “Whatever this is. Because it sure as hell can’t be what you think it is.”
Isaac hummed, dragging his lips lower, licking the sensitive spot beneath her jaw.
“And what do I think it is?”
Rosie let out a frustrated sound, hating how easily her body still responded to him, how she could already feel herself melting, arching, needing more.
“You tell me,” she challenged, voice sharper than she intended. “Do you even know?”
He grinned against her skin, his fingers gliding lower, teasing the soft, wet heat between her legs.
Fuck.
The closer he got, the more she wanted him. Right in there.
“Yeah,” he muttered, his voice all rough and knowing. “I want you.”
Her breath hitched. And then—he slid his fingers down her slit. She gasped, her head tipping back, hips twitching into his touch.
Isaac groaned, his lips brushing her ear.
“Yeah, you like that?” he said, stroking slow, watching her body react as he pumped two fingers into her pussy. “You like me fucking you like a slut?”
“Isaac.” she forced out, her voice shaking. “Please.”
Isaac smirked, dragging his fingers higher, teasing her clit. “I want you coming on me again.”
Rosie bit her lip, strangling a moan.
Fuck.
This wasn’t fair.
Because her body wanted him so bad it hurt, but her mind was screaming at her to stop this before it became something she couldn’t handle.
“This can’t be—”
She stuttered as his fingers hit a sensitive spot, flicking at just the right pace. She felt her cheeks go hot as she buried her face into his neck, moaning.
“Can’t just what?” he rasped, his fingers still moving, still stroking, still pulling tiny sounds from her throat.
She shook her head, pulling back, hating how much she wanted to lean into it.
“Forget it,” she breathed against his shoulder. “I can’t.” She tried to pull back.
His jaw ticked. “No. Say it.” His hand gripped her thigh, holding her in place, keeping her open, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.
And his fingers? His fingers were so close to wrecking her again.
“Isaac,” she whispered, pleading, desperate, trying to pull away.
He wouldn’t let her.
“Say it,” he repeated, softer this time.
Rosie exhaled hard, chest rising and falling.
“I know how this works for you,” she whispered, forcing herself to stay still beneath him as he drew pleasure out. “I’ve watched it happen. The women, the hookups, the way you live your life—”
“This isn’t that,” he cut in, immediate, firm.
She laughed dryly, shaking her head. “Isn’t it?”
Isaac sat up, his expression dark. His fingers slowed, back onto her clit, circling slowly.
“Rosie,” he muttered, gripping her thigh, holding it in place. “What the fuck do you think I see when I look at you?”
She bit her lip, looking away.
“Because from where I’m sitting,” he growled, pressing his fingers deeper, “you have the wrong fucking idea.”
Her chest ached.
“I think I have exactly the right idea,” she muttered.
His fingers curled hard again in her pussy, just enough to make her tremble.
“Maybe I want you more than you know,” he muttered. “Because I fucking care about you, Rosie. I want you to have every goddamn thing you deserve.”
“Right now,” she whispered. “But tomorrow?”
Isaac exhaled hard, shaking his head.
“I want you,” he growled. “I always want you.”
“Until when?”
His whole body tensed.
She shook her head. “Until you deploy again? Until someone else catches your eye? Until I let my guard down and then you realize you never actually wanted me, you just wanted to fuck me?”
Isaac’s jaw clenched, his frustration burning.
“You think I’d do that to you?”
Rosie looked him dead in the eye. “I think you don’t even know what you’d do.”
Isaac didn’t have a response to that, but he kissed her like it was the only answer he had left to give. His mouth was hot, insistent, swallowing every doubt, every sharp edge of resistance she still had left in her. His hands were all over her, like he was trying to convince her of something his words had failed to do.
And maybe… maybe they did.
Because when his fingers slid back between her legs, slow and knowing, Rosie didn’t stop him. She didn’t want to. She wanted to lose herself in this. In the way his breath hitched against her lips as he touched her. In the way his rough, calloused fingers found her slick, aching need and pressed—just right.
She gasped, her forehead dropping to his, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he teased, circled, stroked her pussy again. She moaned his name, twisting in his hold. It was too much and not enough at the same time.
“That’s it, baby,” Isaac muttered, voice low, wrecked, warm. “Let me feel you.”
His words made her pulse stutter, made her body tighten. His fingers slid lower, dipping into her heat, spreading her pussy open.
“You’re still so fucking wet,” he said, his lips dragging down her jaw, nipping at her neck. “This all for me?”
Her breath shook.
“Isaac,” she whispered, pleading, needing, barely hanging on.
His fingers moved faster, more relentless, more knowing. He pumped into her pussy, rough and determined.
“Come for me,” he coaxed, his teeth scraping against the sensitive spot just beneath her ear. “Let me feel you fall apart.”
She couldn’t fight it. Couldn’t fight him. Her whole body arched, tensed, trembled, her breath catching in her throat. The pressure built, curled, burned—
And then—
She shattered.
Her lips parted on a soft, gasping cry, her body quaking, pulsing around his fingers, gripping onto him like he was the only thing anchoring her to the earth.
Isaac groaned, his grip tightening, his lips dragging over her flushed, heated skin as she came apart in his hands.
He held her through it.
Whispering low, dirty praises against her ear. Telling her what a good little slut she is for him. Rubbing slow, soothing circles over her clit, prolonging it, making her ride it out, making her feel everything.
She collapsed against his chest, her body spent, boneless, weightless. His arms wrapped around her, his hands gentle now, sliding up her back, anchoring her against him.
She had never felt this before.
Never felt this wanted.
This cherished.
It should’ve scared her.
Maybe it did.
But not right now.
Not with Isaac pressing soft, lazy kisses into her hair, pulling the sheets up around them, tangling their legs together, like he had no intention of letting her go.
Not with his hand slowly stroking her bare spine, his breath deep and steady against the side of her face.
Not with the way she fit perfectly into him, the way she melted so easily into his warmth.
Her body was heavy, satisfied, her muscles finally, finally at rest.
And for the first time in a long damn time, she wasn’t worried about tomorrow.
She just let herself sleep.
And Isaac held her the whole way down.