Page 48 of The Princess

It wasn’t the best angle for a kiss, and it was more of a meeting of mouths and a sharing of space than it was a real kiss. Tongues tangled as their bodies rocked together. There had never been a better moment in Damon’s entire life. Nash pulled away after that, leaning forward, one arm reaching under Taylor, who suddenly let out a series of gasps and swear words and sweet little endearments like fuck me harder, and oh yeah, right there, don’t stop, holy shit.

Taylor came first, swearing and rocking back as Nash jerked him, taking as much of Nash’s dick as he could.

Damon slid his hands up Nash’s back and grabbed the top of his shoulders. He held on tight and drilled into him. The sound of skin slapping together wasn’t loud enough to drown out the chorus of moans and whimpers from him and his men.

Damon’s legs were burning, but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t dare quit before Nash found his release.

Then Taylor was wiggling out from under Nash and pulling the condom off his cock. Damon slowed his pace when Taylor flopped down and offered his mouth to Nash.

Nash let out a groan, long and guttural, and Damon laughed softly as he watched Nash fall apart, thrust by thrust.

Was it normal to be this happy? This over-the-moon kind of elation wasn’t something Damon was used to, but he didn’t care. He wanted it. Craved it like a thirsty man stumbling upon a fresh spring of crisp, cold water.

“Tay—I’m close,” Nash warned, but Taylor didn’t seem concerned about that. Damon fucked Nash through his orgasm that Taylor greedily swallowed every drop of. He fucked him until Nash whimpered and pulled away, hissing slightly as Damon’s cock slid out of his ass.

The condom was off in a split-second and then Damon was jerking himself to completion, painting Nash’s skin. He spread it around on Nash’s ass like the world’s lewdest finger-painting. Damon scrunched his face at the strange visual and sat back on his heels. He was drunk on sex and not upset about it in the least. Especially when Taylor untangled himself from Nash and crawled over to him.

Kneeling in front of him, Taylor wound his arms around Damon and moaned as he slanted their mouths together. Taylor tasted like Nash, all salty and slightly bitter. The bed jiggled when Nash flopped down and Damon broke out of the kiss to see him stretched out on his side, legs bent. Skin glowing pink with his half hard cock resting on his leg.

“Don’t mind me. Continue.”

But they didn’t. Instead, Taylor collapsed down next to Nash and tugged Damon down with him, letting out an oomph when Damon landed on him.

“I can move,” Damon offered, only to be stopped by Taylor’s arms, holding him tighter.

“Don’t you dare. No one is leaving this bed.”

“Ever?”

“Well, at least until we all catch our breath. That was phenomenal.” Taylor let out a happy sigh. Nash flung an arm over Damon and snuggled in closer.

There was a specific kind of peace of mind that spread over Damon as he lay there with both his men in one big pile of skin and spent energy. Taylor lazily dragged his fingers up and down Damon’s bare flesh.

“I didn’t even hear you come in,” Taylor said to Nash. “Did the two of you plan that? Or do you normally sneak around your own apartment like a burglar?”

Nash laughed softly. “Our sweet Damon is a double agent. Yes, he texted me that the two of you were heading to my place. He didn’t, however, say that you were going to be here to sneak foliage into my apartment.”

“I wasn’t sure if you saw them or not.” Damon slid his hand up Nash’s arm. Still sentimental and fuck-drunk, the contact soothed him. Falling asleep here would be as easy as closing his eyes.

“I can take them back if you don’t like them.” Taylor sounded unsure and Damon moved off of him so Taylor was now in the middle. Damon wrapped his arms around Taylor and dropped kisses onto his shoulder.

“You’ll have to help me care for them, that’s all.” Nash propped himself up on his elbow and gazed down at Taylor. Damon liked the way they looked together. From Taylor’s soft eyes to Nash’s sharp jawline, to the difference in their hair color and the way they both had blue eyes, but Nash’s were light, like a cloudless summer sky. And Taylor’s were dark and rich like gemstones.

“I can do that,” Taylor purred and tugged Nash closer, again slanting their mouths together. Damon watched them, glad that he could stare and enjoy the view. He belonged here with them; that much was clear to him.

Damon fell down the rabbit hole of what it would mean to be with Nash all the time. Waking up with him. Going to bed with him. Lying there every night playing on his phone while Nash read. But Taylor was in the image now, too. Curled up between them, switching who he wanted to cuddle with. Talking to Nash about books and to Damon about everything else.

But they’d been with Taylor such a short time compared to their own relationship. It was probably premature to be thinking so seriously about Taylor moving in with them. Them. Holy shit. Damon was going to move in with Nash.

Fingers trailed down Damon’s cheek and he returned to the present with a start to find Nash staring into his soul, reading all his secrets. Not that Damon had any more left. He’d given them all to Nash because he loved him.

“Where’d you go?” Nash asked him, cupping Damon’s cheek in his hand.

“Nowhere,” Damon replied, turning his head to kiss Nash’s palm. “I’m right here.”

Taylor let out a soft groan. “I hate to be a killjoy, but I have to get home. I’ve got work in the morning and I have to be there a little earlier than usual for the delivery.”

“You could still stay, go from here.” Damon told him. Half wanting him to say yes, half relieved when he said no. It wasn’t that he didn’t want him there, but he had important things to discuss with Nash.

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