He pulled me down for another kiss, his hips rolling against mine. “Make me yours.”
“You’re already mine,” I said, reaching for his nightstand and fumbling for the bottle of lube and a condom.
Taylor caught my wrist.“Wait. Um … actually … I want to talk to you about something.”
I froze. “What’s wrong?”
He pushed himself up to a sitting position, and I rolled away, moving into a similar position.
“I get tested regularly,” he began. "A full STI panel is part of my regular physical. I got the results back this week, and everything’s negative.” He swallowed hard, and I could see his pulse fluttering in his neck.
My brain had no difficulty catching up with where this conversation was going.
“I want ... I mean,” he continued, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning pink. “If you’re comfortable with it, I don’t want to pressure you or anything ... I’d … I want just you. No condoms.”
Even having guessed that was what he was going to say, I couldn’t lie—the idea frightened me a bit. Condoms had always been a given for me, no exceptions. But it also excited the hell out of me. I wanted that closeness with Taylor. The trust. Nothing between us.
“I’m on PrEP—have been for a while—but I’ll get tested this week and then we can …”
A slow smile spread across his face—the kind that I knew meant trouble. “And then you can make me your cum slut?”
I dropped my head forward with an exaggerated groan. “Oh my god. Please don’t ever say that again.”
He cackled. “What, you don’t like the thought of filling me up?”
I threw my legs over the side of the bed as if I was leaving. “Okay, that’s it. I’m going home.”
Taylor launched himself at me, tackling me back down onto the mattress, then climbed over me, bracketing my hips with his thighs. He weaved our fingers together and pinned my hands down on either side of my head. “I’m just fucking with you.”
“You’re gonna pay for that.” I flipped him over, not an easy feat considering the twenty pounds of muscle he had on me, and covered his body with mine.
Taylor’s laugh turned into a moan as I ground down against him, kissing my way down his body, pausing to bite gently at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He arched into it, his hands fisting in my hair.
“Mine,” I murmured against his skin.
“Yours.”
I continued mapping every inch of his chest and stomach with my mouth. When I reached the sharp V of muscle cutting down his hips, I glanced up. He was propped on his elbows, breathing hard, his cock jutting straight in the air.
He looked at it meaningfully, his eyebrow lifting.
With a smirk, I dipped away, kissing and nipping along the inside of his thighs, my pace unhurried, moving close but never giving him what he so desperately wanted.
“You gonna make me beg?” he asked, his voice breaking.
“Would you?”
He shrugged. “If that’s what you want.”
What I wanted washim. And by dragging this out, I was denying myself, too.
“I wantyou,” I said, wrapping my hand around him and licking him from root to tip before engulfing him fully.
“Oh, fuck.” His body reacted instantly, his hips jerking up off the bed, his cock hitting the back of my throat.
I took my time—long, slow pulls of my hand, my tongue tracing the vein along the underside, my lips wrapped around just the head while he writhed beneath me. Only once I had him panting and cursing, did I pull off.
“Roll over,” I said, flicking the cap on the lube bottle open.
