Page 34 of Finding Delaware

I start to spasm, desperate for oxygen, spots filling my vision.

And then Taylor is there again, emptying his lungs into mine as if our very existence depends on each other. He tastes like chlorine and bad decisions, but damn if I don’t find myself sucking on his bottom lip like it’s a lifeline.

When he pushes me under again, I don’t fight it. I let the waves pull me down, closing my eyes and relinquishing tothe darkness that has clawed at me for years. It’s euphoric. Weightless. A high I’ll never find again but continue to chase for as long as I live.

It’s easy to give in like this. Easy in a way that’s addicting.

Our bodies slide together when Taylor lifts me, holding my shaking frame as he dominates my mouth. Any strength I had disintegrates, the struggle for air taking everything out of my aching limbs. If not for his strong arms keeping me afloat, I’d sink to the bottom and cease to exist.

His lips leave mine to trail kisses along my jaw, down my neck, until his teeth bite into my throat, and I hiss at the pleasure that shoots down to my aching cock.

Taylor chuckles into my skin, pressing his hard length against my thigh as his tongue traces a line up to my ear.

“I’ve dreamt about this,” he murmurs, nibbling on my earlobe as his hand palms my dick outside of my swim shorts.

My attempt at a scoff comes out like a gasp. “About drowning me?”

I’ve never been so exhausted and turned on in my life.

“Yeah,” he laughs, smiling against my face. He starts to jerk me slowly through my pants, and I groan, dropping my forehead to his shoulder. My own hand slides to his crotch, rubbing him like he’s doing to me, equally delighted and annoyed to find how much bigger he is than me. It’s not fair.

Taylor’s hips thrust against my palm, seeking friction while his teeth work my lobe. I’m also moving, albeit less animatedly, thanks to the oxygen deprivation, but it’s not enough. I need more. And I must say it out loud because Taylor hums before his hand slowly starts to ease its way under the waistband of my shorts.

“As you wish,” he breathes, and my body jolts the minute he wraps around my cock. It hits me like lightning, filling me with heat, and I raise my head to capture his lips as he works me in long, languid strokes. Before long, we’re both panting while I writhe against him, fucking his fist as the water sloshes around us.

God, he feels good. Not just his hand on my cock, but his tongue as it lazily plays with mine, the curve of his ribs where I grip him, using his body as leverage to thrust myself into a frenzy. In the way his free arm braces me behind my back, keeping me upright.

“So fucking good,” I groan into his mouth, and his smile is almost enough to send me spilling over the edge.

“Let go, Huck,” he says, kissing down the line of my jaw. “Give in for me.”

So I do.

Three thrusts later, I come apart in his hand, moaning as I bury my face into his neck. He jerks me completely dry, stroking my cock until every last drop of cum is spent. We cling to each other for a long moment after he tucks me back into my shorts, his cheek resting against my hair while mine continues to take up space on his shoulder.

I feel like I’ve just run a marathon.

As the orgasm high starts to fade, I begin to notice the burning in my throat and the heaviness in my limbs. My eyes are exhausted, struggling to keep open. Taylor’s body is warm against mine, steady, an anchor holding me in place as I feel like I’m lifting into space.

“We can’t stay here, Huck,” he murmurs, but his voice seems far away as if he’s on the other side of the pool instead of in my arms.

Tightening my hold on him, I keep him pressed against me, knowing I’ve responded, but I don’t hear it. I don’t feel it. A numbness works up my body, seeping into my skin and bones. His lips are in my hair, whispering words that no longer register because sleep has pulled me into its dark, sticky web for the first time in months.

And I don’t ever want to leave.

Taylor

Huckslee snores.Loudly.

Like a bear starting a chainsaw, or whatever that saying is.

Cracking open an eye, I nudge him irritably with my elbow until he finally quiets down, and then I try to go back to sleep.

Five minutes later, he’s snoring again.

With a sigh, I roll onto my back and resign myself to staring at his ceiling. There’s a snowstorm outside, so the room is dark even though it’s late morning. Whatever shitty playlist he’d been listening to last night still plays quietly from the speaker I’d barely remembered to take with us from the pool.

Fuck. The pool.

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