Chapter Twelve - 12. The Ending #2
“You made it a game!” I pointed out. “You started the whole sex competition thing.” I took a breath. “That day in the pizza restaurant, I dared you to tell me that you loved me, and you refused.”
“Because it would’ve been too close to the truth,” Taylor said.
I tugged him closer, hooking a leg over his side. “I’m sorry about everything I said at the ball,” I murmured. “I didn’t mean it. I just felt so betrayed.”
“I’m sorry too,” Taylor said. “I should’ve done a million things differently.”
“Well. We’re here now.”
He kissed me gently. It was everything I needed after an exhausting night. I slid my hand down his naked body. I knew his skin perfectly by now, the feel, the texture, the freckles and bumps, the hair dusting his arms.
He moved so he was leaning over me, kissing my mouth and down my neck, suckling at the sensitive spots that made me gasp, as I dug my fingers into his hair.
The semester was over. It was winter break and sweater season now. Who cared if he left a few marks? I’d wear a turtleneck.
I reached between us, wanting to touch as much of him as I could. His erection bumped against my wrist, and I curled a hand around it, which made his teeth scrape against my collarbone. He was warm and heavy, and soon he was thrusting into the tight vice of my fist.
The room was silent but for our heavy breaths.
Taylor’s eyes were dark as he brought two fingers up to my mouth and pushed them past my lips.
I sucked hard, my dick twitching. A moment later, Taylor rubbed those spit-wet fingers against my entrance, while his other hand brushed barely-there grazes over the crown of my cock, making my toes curl.
“What do you want?” he murmured.
“You, inside me, now. Please,” I added.
He leaned over for the lube in the drawer, drizzled it over his fingers, then returned to massaging my hole. His lips brushed over mine. “Tell me how much you want it.”
“I want it. I want it. I want you.”
He pushed a finger in, and my body tightened around it, but it wasn’t enough. I babbled his name, hands digging into his shoulders. It wasn’t just about sex. I wanted to be close to him, for him to be close to me. I needed it.
He slid a second finger in while I continued to stroke him, thinking that if I teased him enough, he’d snap and hurry up. He was thorough, though, the way he always was, never wanting to hurt me. After he slid the third finger in with ease, he finally drew back.
“Condom,” he said, leaning towards the bed side table.
I caught his arm. “Didn’t you get the test results? I got them this evening.”
Brows coming together, he reached for his phone with the hand that wasn’t wet with lube, and checked his email. He showed me the results. All negative.
I pulled him down, and his phone fell out of his hand and bounced onto the floor, but neither of us stopped. His nose brushed mine.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“This is the reason we got tested.”
“I know, but —”
“I want this,” I told him.
He stared at me for a moment longer, then kissed me hard, hand reaching between my legs. My breath caught in my throat as he guided himself to my entrance, wet head rubbing against the pucker.
We didn’t break eye contact as he slowly pushed inside, his face going tight, almost as if he were in pain.
“Is it okay?” I asked.
He managed a nod. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Yeah, it’s — shit, I’m going to last like five seconds.”
I huffed a laugh which immediately cut off when he nudged my prostate, making my whole body twitch. I reached down to stroke my dick, but he pushed my hand out of the way, gripping me instead, thumb rubbing slowly over the slit.
I made an embarrassing noise like urghhh, grabbing onto his arms, wanting to steady myself. His skin felt like it was burning beneath my palms.
Slowly, he pulled back, then thrust into me, hard enough to send shivers of sensation through every nerve in my body.
“Is it good?” he breathed.
I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s —”
I couldn’t answer because he thrust in again, and my legs jerked wider. He groaned. “Fuck. I don’t know if I can handle this —”
“This was your idea,” I managed to point out, my breath coming out quick and ragged.
“I know,” Taylor said, eyes fluttering shut, a muscle in his jaw shifting as he thrust in again, and then again, faster and harder. “I — I didn’t want you to touch anyone else. I wanted you all to myself.”
“Is that the only reason?” I said. “If you wanted to be exclusive, I would’ve said yes.”
“No…not the only reason.” His eyes met mine, deep and dark. “I want to come in you. I want to see it drip out of you, smeared all over your ass. I want to make you mine.”
I whimpered and kissed him hard, teeth catching his bottom lip, tugging at it. “Fill me up,” I moaned into his mouth.
He made a soft noise, and the next thing I knew, he was pounding into me, each slam of his cock making my mind go blank.
The room was loud with the noise of panting and skin slapping against skin and his eyes didn’t move from mine, and it all felt so good that I felt half-unconscious.
I was digging my nails into Taylor’s biceps and it must’ve hurt, would definitely leave marks, but he didn’t stop.
I reached between our bodies to wrap my hand over Taylor’s, where he was still stroking, fast and rough now, and he stuttered out something like, “fuck, Archie,” and I watched in slow motion as he fell apart.
Heat pulsed inside me, and the next second, I was clamping down around him as I spilled into his fist, everything hot and tight and almost unbearable.
Taylor kissed my face, lips on my cheek and temple as he moaned, and later, I felt his slick, softening cock slide out, leaving me feeling terribly empty.
I rolled onto my side, eyes falling shut, halfway asleep, which was sort of ironic since Taylor had done most of the physical work. The bed shifted as he got up. No. Don’t go. His footsteps faded away.
Then something warm wiped against my inner thighs, and I opened my eyes to see Taylor cleaning me up, just like he’d promised all those weeks ago. I rolled onto my back and lifted my hips to make his job easier, and when he was done, I wordlessly took the towel from him and cleaned him up too.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked later, when we were lying in bed.
“Nothing.” I shrugged. “I’m just happy.” I rolled over and poked his chest. “Delete that room transfer application, okay?”
He caught my finger and curled his whole hand around it. “I will.” He grinned. Honestly, it was kind of scary.
“What?” I demanded.
“You’re stuck with me for the rest of the year.”
I rolled my eyes, then moved closer. “We’ve spent so long playing games. We need to promise to be kind to each other.”
“We’ve done it before,” Taylor said, and I thought of every meal, every hot drink, every shared shower.
I thought of him smiling in the audience moments before I gave my speech.
I thought of how his serious expression melted as Hazel and I waved from the stands.
I thought of giggling over froyo and walking across campus in the dark and waking up on Sunday mornings with his arms around me.
“We can do it again,” Taylor finished, and kissed my forehead to seal the promise.
THE END