Chapter 24 Taylen
TAYLEN
“Come here,” Bastian growls, his hands finding my waist as he pulls me from beneath the spray.
Water streams from our bodies, puddling on the tiled floor as he reaches for a towel with one hand while the other keeps me pressed against him. He moves the towel over my skin in quick, impatient strokes.
“Bastian—” His name becomes a gasp as his mouth finds my neck, his teeth scraping against my sensitive skin before he sucks hard enough to mark me. The sensation shoots straight to my dick, making my knees threaten to buckle.
“Want everyone to see,” he mutters against my throat, moving to a new spot. “Want them to know you’re mine.”
Heat floods through me at the possessiveness in his voice, at the evidence he’s leaving on my skin. My fingers dig into his shoulders as he works his way across my collarbone, each mark burning like a brand I never want to fade.
“We’re dry enough,” he declares suddenly, tossing the barely-used towel aside.
I laugh breathlessly, water still dripping from my hair down my back. “We’re not even close to dry enough.”
“Don’t care.” His hands find mine, pulling me toward the bedroom with a single-minded determination that makes my pulse race. “Need you. Now.”
I follow, almost slipping on the wet floor. When he stops all of a sudden, I almost bump into him.
“What the—” The sight in front of us makes me laugh harder.
Gouta sprawls across his pillows like a queen on her throne, while Myrtle and Moira have claimed opposite corners of the mattress with impressive territorial determination.
“Well,” Bastian says with resignation, “I see my bed has been commandeered.”
“It seems your security team has strong opinions about your nocturnal activities.”
“We could try to move them,” Bastian suggests, but his tone indicates he knows exactly how well that would go over.
Instead of responding, I turn toward the nightstand, retrieving the bottle of lube. “Or,” I say, letting a smile curl the edges of my mouth as I face him again, “we could find somewhere else to continue this.”
I take his hand, leading him toward the living room. The couch is lit softly by the moonlight, thanks to his uncovered windows. I guide Bastian onto the middle cushion, enjoying the way his breath catches as I drop to my knees between his spread legs.
His skin still carries traces of moisture from the shower, droplets catching the light as they trail down his chest. I lean forward, following one particularly tempting rivulet with my tongue.
The taste of his clean skin and rising arousal fills my mouth as I work my way lower, maintaining eye contact.
“Tay,” he breathes as I reach his cock. My hands find his thighs, and I grip firmly enough to leave temporary marks as I take him into my mouth.
The weight of his cock feels perfect against my tongue as I set a slow rhythm. My first orgasm took the edge off, so I can enjoy watching the reactions of what I’m doing play across his face.
His fingers thread through my damp hair. “You’re a fucking tease, Taylen Howard.”
I hollow my cheeks on the upstroke, pulling a sound from his throat. Each gasp and shiver tells me exactly what he needs, how to build this until he’s cursing my name.
“Tay,” he warns again, his hips beginning to move despite his obvious attempt at control. “I’m getting close.” The words come between harsh breaths that fill the cabin’s quiet space. But that’s not what I want.
I pull off slowly, letting him slide from my mouth. His cock stands fully hard now. “Not yet,” I tell him, as I straddle his thighs. “I have a better idea about how this should end.”
“Yeah?” he asks, his hands grabbing my hips and pulling me flush against him. “Tell me about this idea.”
Showing works better than telling, so even as I drag my hard cock against the length of his, I reach for the lube and place it in his hand.
“Not too much prep,” I ask. “I want to feel this…you tomorrow.”
The words make Bastian’s pupils dilate, but his movements remain carefully controlled as he takes over and begins working me open. The first finger slides in with a familiar burn that makes my breath catch.
Why did I ever resist this?
His free hand grips my hip, steadying me as I rock back against the intrusion. “You’re so impatient, aren’t you, baby? You’re dying to have me inside you again,” he says, but I hear the strain in his voice that betrays his own urgency.
A second finger joins the first, the stretch becoming more pronounced as he scissors them with the kind of slow, tender care that makes me want to scream.
“Yes,” I admit, grinding against his hand while my own fingers dig into his shoulders for balance. A third finger pushes in before I’m quite ready, drawing a sound from my throat that’s half pain and half desperate need. “Bastian,” I manage as he works me steadily open. “That’s enough. I’m ready.”
I don’t like the absence of his fingers when he removes them to cover his cock with lube.
When I finally lift up, positioning myself over his cock, time seems to suspend between one breath and the next.
His hands return to my hips, steadying but not controlling as I begin a slow descent.
The first breach burns exactly like I wanted, the stretch just this side of too much as I take him in inch by careful inch.
“Fuck,” he breathes against my collarbone. “You feel so fucking good.”
His thumbs stroke my hipbones so gently that I’m wondering if there’s a “calm under pressure” award for sex.
I pause when he’s fully seated, letting my body adjust to the fullness that feels new every time. Our skin slides slightly where we’re pressed together.
“Move,” he pleads, and I love that he sounds wrecked when we’ve barely started. “Please, Tay. Need you to move.”
The nickname pulls a response from my throat as I lift slightly, testing the angle that makes both of us gasp when I drop back down.
I find our rhythm, each rise and fall drawing gasps and moans that fill the cabin’s quiet space, mixing with the subtle creak of the couch beneath us. His hands guide more than control, letting me set a pace that quickly builds from careful to desperate.
Sweat replaces the shower’s moisture on our skin as our movement becomes more intense.
My thighs burn, but I couldn’t stop if the world ended right now—not with the way he’s looking at me like I’m something miraculous, like he can’t quite believe this is real.
His cock hits the perfect spot on every thrust, sending sparks through my nervous system that build toward inevitable explosion.
“Close,” I warn as pressure builds low in my core, the familiar tingling at the base of my spine suggesting imminent release. One of his hands wraps around my cock with a perfect grip. “So close, Bastian. Please.”
His hips snap up to meet my downward motion, finally letting control slip as we race toward the finish line together.
“Come for me,” he commands, his voice carrying an authority that sends me right over the edge.
My release hits me with force, and I cry out, my body clenching around him as pleasure whites out everything else.
He follows immediately, his grip on my hip turning bruising as he pulses inside me.
The sensation prolongs my own orgasm, aftershocks running through both of us as we gradually come down together.
My forehead finds his shoulder, my breathing begins returning to normal, and he wraps his arms around me, holding me close.
“You are so fucking perfect, Taylen. Just so you know, it’s never been like this with anyone else.” I almost can’t tell what he’s saying because his mouth is once again mapping all the free areas on my skin.
“You make it so hard to resist you.”
“Then don’t, Taylen. Don’t.”
“I can't believe you didn't have sex for seven years.” It's not that I don’t believe him, but seven years is a long time.
He laughs. “I didn’t say I didn’t have sex for seven years. I had plenty of sex. It just never involved anyone else.”
His mouth on my skin turns my brain into mush. “And you're very good at it. Clearly, the lack of practice with another person didn’t affect your skills.”
“Or maybe when you’re with the right person, everything fits perfectly. My body has known for seven years that no one else would ever come close to how you make me feel.”
His words draw a shiver from me, or maybe it’s the cooling sweat. His dick slips out, and I feel way too empty, but I’m happy that I’ll definitely feel this tomorrow.
He reaches over to the box of tissues on the table and cleans us both up. I’m certain I can’t move a single inch, so when he pulls the blanket from the back of the couch over us and adjusts until we’re lying face-to-face on the couch, I burrow deeper into his chest, seeking his warmth.
“So,” he says after a comfortable silence stretches between us, “does this count as our first date?” His arms tighten around me as I start laughing.
“Hell no,” I manage when I stop laughing. “First”—I poke his chest with a finger—“I’ve not agreed to a date. Just dinner. And second”—I poke again—“you’ll have to do a lot better than that to woo me.”
“Taylen Howard wants to be wooed.” His smile presses against my shoulder, his lips curved in a way I can feel against my skin. “Noted. I can woo.”
Movement from the bedroom doorway draws our attention. Gouta peers around the corner from the small hallway frame with an expression that clearly questions our life choices. Myrtle and Moira flank her like tiny feathered bodyguards.
She comes closer and sniffs us, giving a very disapproving bleat before heading to her bed in the corner.
“How very judgmental,” I say with a chuckle.
“I should probably install a lock on the bedroom door before this becomes a regular occurrence. My couch is okay, but we’re not twenty anymore.”
The casual mention that this will happen again sends warmth through my chest. Because he says it like a certainty. Not if this becomes regular, but when. Like he’s already planning for more nights like this, more time together.
“Let’s not do age math because when you were twenty, I was—”
He shuts me up with a kiss that’ll have me agreeing to anything.
“Stay,” he whispers against my mouth.
My answer comes in the way I burrow deeper into his embrace, in how my fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer.
Something has shifted between us, like the first thaw changing frozen ground. Whatever comes next, proper dates, morning awkwardness, or judgmental farm animals, it feels less like fear and more like my new reality.
When Bastian drags me out of the living room to his bed and snuggles against me, I don’t think I’m in trouble. I know for sure that I am. Because my puppy love, my teenage crush, the love that I thought I felt for him before, is nothing compared to how I feel right now.
Sebastian Hall better be here to stay because I've never in my life wanted to be proven wrong more than now.