“No?”
He looked up at me, his eyes drier now, and he’d wiped his face clean at some point. Beneath the puffiness of his eyes, though, I could see them searching my face, and I felt something shift in the air. I knew what was coming before he leaned forward, his hands still clasped in mine, and he paused, waiting...but for what?
Oh god, he was waiting for me, waiting for me to make the decision, even though this was something he had just a moment ago wanted so badly he hadn’t thought twice about initiating it. He didn’t want to use me, afraid he was using me to distract himself, just like he had done with so many other men before. Because, of course, it was men; women would have been too painful, and he could separate himself, sleeping with men so he never had a connection like he had with his late wife.
I tilted my head, and that was all the permission he needed to move that last inch until our lips pressed together. His reaction was immediate; his hand gripping the back of my head took me by surprise, but I recovered instantly. His mouth was hot and furious in the way it pressed against mine, his hand gripping my head with an intensity that was familiar and completely foreign to me. Familiar because it wasn’t the first time someone had kissed me with undisguised desire, but...this was the first time in recent memory that Iwantedto feed into the feeling of the other person rather than just accepting it.
What a bizarre and wonderful feeling.
There was a saltiness to his kiss as he pushed me back to clamber atop me as carefully as he could. My chest ached when I realized I was probably tasting his tears, and I briefly wondered if this was a good idea. He was, by his own admission, the type to use sex to escape his pain. At the same time, I was on the receiving end of someone’s desire, motivated purely by the grief in their heart and a desire to feel something other than pain.
Maybe it was selfish of me to continue. Because I could feel his hand slide down my chest as he continued to hold the back of my head with the other. His fingers dragged against my skin with only my shirt between us, and I felt an old but desperately familiar longing ignite inside. I didn’t want this just because he wanted it, perhaps even needed it, I wanted this because...I wanted it.
“Ow,” he hissed when his hand came down to the floor to steady himself. “Fucking mess.”
It would be bad to point out the mess was because of him, so instead I took his hand and looked at it. There was a sliver of ceramic from the mug in his palm, and I plucked it out, watching a small bead of blood form. It was a minor thing, but it sobered me up enough to realize that doing this on the floor wasn’t the greatest idea.
“C’mon,” I said softly, grabbing a small rag to press over his hand before getting to my feet, pulling him up with me. His attention was locked on me, and I smiled gently as I took a step back, trying to avoid the mess but also trying to be obvious that I was heading for the bed. “Get on the bed.”
He glanced at the bed and then back to me before stepping over another large shard of the mug, and then did as I said and sat on the bed. “Sorry.”
I didn’t think it was necessary to respond to that, not with words. I stepped closer, placing my hands on his shoulders and kissing him again, crawling into his lap so I was kneeling on each side of him, but still able to put my weight on his legs. I was already sensing him fighting to figure out what to do, what he wanted, and what he could do. I smiled at the thought. Sure, this wasn’t my first time having to take control because my partner was unsure of themselves, but it was kind of hilarious that Mr. Playboy was so unsure.
I ran my hands down his shoulders to rest on his chest, groping to feel his muscles as I tilted my head to burrow my face in his neck. I heard the catch of his breath as my mouth found his skin, my teeth experimentally scraping down his neck and finding he was holding his breath. I bit down on the muscle of his neck running to his shoulder, and he gasped softly, his body quivering slightly.
Smiling, I slid my hands under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin. That same familiar, if old, feeling of excitement shot through me at the heat radiating against my hands as I gripped his sides, feeling his stomach muscles flex under my thumbs. I eased down enough to feel the pressure of his groin against my ass, chuckling when I felt the presence of his excitement.
“Isaac,” he began, but I gave his neck another nibble and made him groan.
Sliding off his lap, I gripped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head with a little help from him before tossing it to the side. His upper body exposed, I gave his chest another stroke before easing down to my knees. His eyes were locked on me as I grabbed the drawstring of the pants he’d changed into while I’d been sleeping, loosening them. That same uncertainty I’d detected in him was still hovering, but I ignored it for the moment as I reached into his pants and gripped his straining cock.
“I see,” I said in an approving tone as I stroked him slowly, getting a feel for every inch of his cock before drawing it out of his pants to put it on full display. The tip shone slightly from his excitement, and smirking, I ran my thumb over the head to watch his stomach flex and his dick jerk from the teasing touch. “As nice to look at as the rest of you.”
“Don’t flatter me,” he said in a strained voice that was either fighting off a laugh or irritation. I couldn’t tell which.
“That’s called a compliment,” I said with a chuckle, wrapping my fingers around the base of his cock as I pushed one of his legs to the side to give me better access.
His breath caught as I leaned in, wrapping my lips around the head, tasting him. His low moan shot another dose of anticipation through me as I sucked the tip gently. It was exhilarating to be kneeling before someone and realize I wasn’t okay with it, or able to pretend it was okay. No, Iwantedthis, down to the core of my being, which I hadn’t plumbed in a long time.
I would swear he stopped breathing when I finally bent forward, taking him past my lips and down to touch the back of my throat before I drew back and did it again. There were a few tricks in my repertoire, but I thought it might be better to take things slow at first. There was a tension in Clay I hadn’t soothed yet, so it was probably better not to push him too hard. It mightjust be that he was overly excited, but even if that was the case, I wanted to let both of us enjoy this before he popped.
So, I took my time feeding his cock into my throat, letting him feel and perhaps savor the feeling of easing into the grip. His leg muscles flexed and held when I reached the base, my nose tickled by the meticulously trimmed hairs of his groin. I held it there, looking up to see that he had leaned back to rest on his arms and stare down at me with that same conflicted expression of pleasure and hesitation. The latter disappeared briefly when I swallowed once, then twice, forcing the muscles of my throat to work his dick.
That was the opportunity I was looking for, and I continued to take my time, even when I pulled back to suck on the head. The purpose wasn’t to get him off; it was to give him pleasure and for me to enjoy myself as I pleasured him. It was a reminder that one of the things that made me a good escort was that I enjoyed bringing other people pleasure, so it had been a natural fit. Now, though, I was able to enjoy it simply for the enjoyment rather than any expectation or price tag hanging over my ability; I could simply tease this man to hell and back for the fun of it.
Which, it turned out, was a great deal of fun as I took my time, noting what worked and what didn’t. He enjoyed it when I focused solely on the head of his dick, his legs trembling when I sucked on the underside. He barely had any reaction when I played with his balls, but his eyes were always locked on me whenever I took him deep into my throat. Something he seemed to enjoy a lot, but I could feel his feet flexing whenever I sat there with him embedded in my throat, flexing the muscles of my throat to squeeze and milk him.
When I intentionally popped off his dick with an audible noise, I grinned up at him. “Let’s get the rest of these clothes off.”
He nodded, and I could see the uncertainty coming back as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants andshucked them off smoothly. He was done so quickly that by the time I stood to take my clothes off, he was on his feet, helping me. Shivers ran up and down my spine as I felt his hands move hungrily and eagerly over my body, like he was trying to map out every inch of my skin as he took my shirt off and undid the button of my pants.
I had only just managed to push my pants and underwear down before he was wrapping me close, kissing me fiercely again. This time, there was more control as he pushed me down onto the bed with a soft sigh. His weight and warmth pressed down on me, and another jolt shot through me when I felt his dick press between my legs, snug against my ass as he rutted.
He groaned, breaking the kiss and nuzzling my jaw and neck, kissing my skin reverently. “Isaac, I want to?—”
“Fuck me?” I wondered aloud, chuckling when I felt his cock twitch against my ass. “I thought so.”
“I don’t…” He stopped, his voice wavering, and I waited rather than pushing him further. “I don’t want you to feel like...like you need to. Especially not because I’ve been...freaking out.”
