Darling You've Got Your Demons | Kaylor

twenty eight

Trigger Warning: sexual scenes (consensual)

Song of the chapter: "Lightweight" Demi Lovato

Karlie

"Taylor can I talk to you about something?" I questioned nervously. We were sprawled across my couch watching Grey's Anatomy and wearing sweatpants. It was about two weeks after the whole fiasco with JJ, and Taylor and I had basically been inseparable. We'd both been making an effort to see each other as much as possible, because she was going to begin promoting her new album soon, which meant lots of time apart. I'd gone to therapy six times in the past couple weeks, and Dr. Reynolds and I were searching for an anger management group, as well as trying out a new medication.

Taylor looked up at me. She'd been doodling on her arm with a pen. "What's up?"

I exhaled loudly. "So, um, I was talking about sex yesterday in therapy..."

She raised her eyebrows. "And?"

I shrugged, blushing under her gaze. "I...I don't know. We we're just discussing how-how I've never really had an exactly positive experience with it. Like, it's been more of a self harming technique in the past." Taylor nodded, dropping eye contact. My hands found hers and intertwined our fingers. "I just don't really know what it's like."

Taylor reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Her voice was a comforting whisper that sent shivers down my spine. "Would you let me show you?"

I nodded. "Please," I whispered back.

A smile spread across Taylor's face and her newly found confidence began to seep through. She took my hand and pulled me off the couch. We made our way into my bedroom.

My heart was pounding from both anxiety and excitement. "Tay?" I took a deep breath, "I'm nervous." she sat down on my bed and pulled me into her lap.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to. We can just cuddle, if that's what you want."

I shook my head. "That's not it...I'm nervous, but I still want to...do other stuff, I guess."

"That's alright," Taylor pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. "Just tell me if anything makes you feel uncomfortable, okay?"

Instead of replying, I took a risk. I pressed my lips to hers, allowing her to guide me so I was lying down on the bed. We made out for a few minutes, but when her mouth began to move further down, I began feeling panicky.

"T-tay?" I stuttered, trying to catch my breath. "Can you, can you slow down for a sec?" She immediately stopped, and moved so that we were lying adjacent to each other.

"You okay?" she said, worry lacing her voice.

"Yeah, I...I was just feeling kind of trapped for a second."

She brought up a hand to cup my cheek. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," I told her.

We lay like that for several minutes, and I allowed the silence and safety to wash over me. Soon, Taylor's lips found mine again. But this time, our kisses were softer and slower.

Taylor's hands traveled to my stomach and slid underneath my t-shirt. I tensed slightly, and Taylor pulled back. "Relax, it's just me," she whispered. I nodded, and her hands resumed their place, cautiously exploring uncharted territory.

My hands were soon doing the same, backing off when my fingertips brushed against the fabric of her sports bra. Taylor sat up, gripping the bottom of her shirt. "Do you want me to take this off?" she questioned. I nodded, my mouth going dry as she tossed the piece of fabric onto the floor.

"Fuck, you're hot." I muttered the words under my breath by mistake, making Taylor giggle and blush. Her navy blue sports bra contrasted her pale skin, and a few freckles dotted the slight folds of her stomach.

I reached for the bottom of my shirt, and grasped it. I played with it with my fingers. Taylor placed her hand over mine. "Do you trust me?" she asked in a low voice.

"Yeah."

"You're safe. I'm not going to judge you. You don't have to feel obligated to do anything."

I took a deep breath, and Taylor helped me slowly pull the shirt off of my body. I let out a long exhale as I dropped my arms, resisting the urge to cover myself. Taylor gently traced her hands over the raised scars that were abundant on my skin, taking extra care around the still red wound from two weeks ago.

"You're so beautiful," she said softly.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

Taylor's eyes met mine in disbelief. "You can't be serious. You're the most beautiful person I've ever met. You don't even try, you just look amazing all the time. You could probably be a model."

I shrugged. "I guess..."

"I'm going to make you feel beautiful," she promised. There was a determination in Taylor's eyes that hadn't been there before.

And she did.

She worshiped every inch of my skin like I was a religion. Her touch convinced me that I was a goddess. When the barrier of fabric was finally eliminated, skin was flush against skin, creating friction.

Her head traveled in between my thighs, and an expert tongue transformed me into a quivering mess in her arms. The orgasm filled my body, peaking at a magnificent release.

We fell back onto the pillows, allowing ourselves to sink into the bed and catch our breath. I turned to Taylor, bringing our bodies close again. She wiped a line of sweat from my brow.

"I love you," she said, burrowing her face into my neck, and inhaling my scent.

"I love you too," replied, a lump suddenly appearing in my throat. Instead of forcing the tears away, I let them fall. What was the point in hiding anymore?

Silence enveloped us, and the only sound was our soft breaths. I soon became tired, and tried to keep my eyes open.

"Thank you for that, Taylor," I whispered. "I've never...I've never come before."

Taylor's head snapped up. "Wait, are you serious?" I nodded, a blush spreading across my cheeks. She smirked, "Don't worry. I'll more than make up for it."

We fell asleep soon, with smiles etched across our faces. I was the happiest I had been in a long time. Everything was going to be alright.