Karma | Tayvis

Just you

Warning: Rated M warning for very mature sexual explicit content and dialogue on this chapter.

Disclaimer: Taylor and Travis are two consenting adults in this story.

I just wanted to make that clear to avoid causing any misunderstandings. The story will proceed as normal with no changes to how I write but I don't want them to be perceived really badly.

That's all :)
Comments are encouraged <3

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Time gets lost with Taylor and Travis when they spend it together.

A day, maybe two already goes by and he doesn't think he has ever been so attuned to anyone before. But something about Taylor felt so familiar yet unknown to him.

As a naturally curious person, Travis seeks to discover these personal details that makes Taylor... Well, Taylor.

It starts with their bed arrangement when she tells him she likes sleeping on the left side of the bed. When he notices some historical fiction book sitting on the nightstand. Her habit of fiddling with her own clothes when her hands aren't occupied. Her comfortable clothes that one of her security guys delivered, some of it now in a laundry basket. Her love for Grey's Anatomy and trashy reality shows, it's a miracle that she hasn't seen Catching Kelce (Or maybe she has. He's honestly too afraid to find out the answer). It's their shared preference for black coffee and slightly burnt bacon.

Travis could make a compilation of everything he learned so far in his head.

They're his best well-kept secrets.

And it's also fucking risky how much he cares for it. It isn't good for the kind of arrangement that they have.

Arrangement.
Such a juvenile way to put it.

They're not fuck buddies in college. They're grown adults in their thirties with independent lives. But fuck, sometimes... Travis still forgets. He gets lost and caught up in the sweet domesticity of it all that he forgets how temporary this is.

It hits him in quiet moments that perhaps they might have doomed each other as they're racing against time to make the most out of it.

So, the next time Travis brings Taylor to orgasm, he makes her sit on his face. A little reluctant on her part but she quickly gains the confidence once he moans against her wet folds, riding his insistent tongue, arms bracketed on the headboard as she screams his name to the ceiling while he involved every part of him from his nose to her clit, his beard scratching her inner thighs and hands on her tits. An overwhelming sensory overload.

And more, he binds her wrists together and pounds inside her from behind over his office desk like promised. He sends her off the edge by slapping her ass repeatedly until she's marked with red handprints and she rewards him by squeezing around his dick every time.

At some point, Travis loses count, and so does Taylor. It really doesn't matter, they just can't get enough of each other.

Even on the third day, when they're just comfortably chilling on the couch. He's half hard around her whether they were fucking or not. And right now, she's just on her phone while he's flipping through the TV for something to watch, her feet on his lap.

"Okay. You know what? I actually don't mind just watching British Bake Off." He didn't want to admit that he was just lazy to find something. Taylor makes watching tv fun anyway, especially since she likes telling him about her own baking recipes.

Just when he was expecting her to get all excited, she instead stays quiet. No reaction.

Turning to face her, he finds her still intensely glued to her phone, teeth chewing on the side of her lip worriedly, he catches her off guard when he momentarily tips her mouth with his thumb so she could let go of her bottom lip. It's one of her nervous ticks, sign of overthinking.