But I don’t. I lie there, heat prickling my cheeks as I cover my face with my hands, too embarrassed to do anything but accept my fate.
He slides my underwear down in one smooth motion, and my stomach twists with shame and disgust when I feel the cool air from the room onit. Nate can see everything, he knows, he’s going to—
“Hey, look at me.” I open my eyes, but they automatically dart down to the part of my body I hate most. That Nate is—
“No,” he cuts through my spiral. “At me. Look atme.”
I do. Pulling my eyes up to meet his. And when I do, I don’t see any disgust there. He doesn’t look like he wants to run.He gives me a small smile.
“You’re beautiful, Iris.” I shake my head. “Let me make you feel good. You don’t gotta watch.”
“But Nate—” I manage, my voice cracking on his name as my throat feels like it’s going to close up. This was a mistake. I should have known I wouldn’t have been able to handle it.
He moves to hover over me so that his breath warms my skin, and he’s the only thing I can see. “I love you,” he says, with no hesitation, even after what he saw. “I love your body. You understand? You’re it for me, Darlin’, nothing we do is gonna change that.”
A flush spreads up to my face even as my body begins to relax. He means it, I can tell. He means every word.
He still loves me, even after seeing everything.
That realization begins to unravel the knot of shame I’ve been building for my entire life. I have a long way to go. I don’t know if I’ll ever be comfortable with the body I was born with. But maybe it’s okay to let him love my body, even if I can’t.
“Now,” He starts. “You got any lube?”
I lay back with a sigh, my face heating more than it did when Nate took my clothes off. “In the drawer.”
He crouches slightly to reach it, popping back up with that stupid grin on his face. “What’s this for?”
Oh god.
I fumble for an answer, trying to sound casual, to think of an excuse, but fail miserably. “I… um. tried to… you know…”
He tilts his head, getting his fingers slick with the lube, his tone playful but curious. “Tried what?”
The only response I give is a glare.He knows.
“You mean, you tried to finger yourself?” He questions, andI’m really starting to wonder if dying from embarrassment is a thing. It certainly feels like it is.
I swallow hard, biting my lip once before releasing it because he’s not letting this go, standing there with an expectant look on his face. “I wanted to know what it felt like. After that day in my classroom. What it might feel like if we—”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Hang on. You’re telling me I was sitting at home with the world’s worst case of blue balls, losing my damn mind, while you were—” He cuts himself off with a mix between a scoff and a laugh, shaking his head. “You could’ve at least called me. We could’ve made it a team effort.”
He’s clearly enjoying this way too much.
I open my mouth to yell at him, but the words vanish the moment I feel his slick fingertip pressing slow, but insistent, inside of me. My breath catches on a sharp gasp. I hadn’t even realized he’d gotten so close.
“You—” My voice breaks off into a shaky sound.
“Mhm,” he hums. “Doing so good.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, my hips twitching as his finger penetrates me. It doesn’t even hurt like I figured it would. I think he might actually know what he’s doing.
His touch is careful, but every gentle thrust of his finger sends a ripple of heat curling low in my stomach. And then, he crooks his finger slightly, making my entire body jolt at the pleasure.
“Nate,” I gasp, fisting the sheets.
“That feel good?” I nod, a whimper tearing from my throat when he adds more pressure to that spot, focusing on it. It has pleasure blooming deeper than I’ve ever felt, more intense than anything I did when I used to touch myself.
His other hand slides up my shaking thigh, holding me steady.
