He obeyed instantly, and I took a moment to admire the long line of his back, the curve of his ass, the way his muscles shifted as he breathed.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I ran my hands over his skin.
“Sebastian, please.”
I slicked up my fingers and pressed the first one inside. Taylor pushed back against it with a groan. I worked him open slowly and carefully, adding a second finger, then a third.
When I tapped against his prostate, his arms gave out, and he dropped onto his front, his back arching beautifully.
“There,” he gasped. “Right there, please don’t stop.”
I reached for the condom and rolled it on. I slicked myself up, then lined up behind him.
With a greedy little grunt, Taylor pushed back.
“Easy,” I said, gripping his hip with my free hand.
I pushed forward slowly, watching his body open for me. When I was buried to the hilt, he let out a satisfied-sounding groan, and we both went momentarily still.
“Okay?”
“So fucking okay.”
I pulled back and pressed in again and again, setting a steady rhythm, Taylor pushing back every time I drove forward. On my next thrust, I folded over, covering his back with my chest, and pressed my mouth to his shoulder blade. “I love you,” I said against his skin. “So much.”
“Love you, too,” he gasped. “But I need you to stop being gentle. Fuck me harder, Seb. I can take it.”
I straightened back up and gripped his hips in both hands, pulling him back to meet the slap of my hips against his body, his face pressed into the mattress as I pounded into him. With each thrust, the pressure at the base of my spine coiled tighter. I wasn’t going to last much longer. I needed him to come before I did.
“Get yourself there,” I gritted out.
Taylor’s right hand disappeared beneath his body. After a few pumps, his whole body tensed in that unmistakable way that told me he was about to come.
I felt him shudder, and then he let out a muffled groan against the pillow, his ass squeezing my cock.
The pressure in my balls erupted, the first jet of cum shooting out of me. I gripped Taylor’s hips harder, holding him in place, and thrust deep, my thighs pressed against the back of his legs, as my orgasm barreled through me.
I collapsed forward, covering Taylor’s sweat-slick back with my chest, my pulse loud in my ears. Taylor hooked his pinkie around mine as the room came slowly back into focus.
I pulled out, tied off the condom, and disposed of it, then climbed back into the bed.
Taylor rolled against me, draping an arm and a leg over my body. “Fuck, I needed that.”
“Me too,” I said, recalling how I’d woken up at four o’clock in the morning the day before, hard and aching from a dream I’d had where Taylor had me bent over his dining room table. “I don’t want to go back to my apartment tonight,” I admitted, running my fingers through his hair.
“Then don’t.” He propped himself up on one elbow to look at me. “I’ll drive you back in the morning.”
A voice at the back of my head told me it was a bad idea to stay. That if I did, I’d never want to leave again. That I was neglecting a job I was getting paid handsomely to do. There were so many reasons for me to head back, but none of them mattered when this man was lying next to me, telling me that he wanted more time together.
That he loved me and he wanted me by his side.
It was everything twenty-one-year-old me had wished for.
“Okay.”
His smile was radiant as he leaned down and kissed me before settling back down on my chest.
We fell asleep tangled together, and for the first time in days, I didn’t dream about campaign strategies or polling numbers or crisis management. I just slept.
