Heal the Heart

24.

I woke up to lips caressing my shoulder. Warm fingertips on my spine. Sunlight flooded the room through those open curtains. Beck was behind me, cradling me, one hand stroking over my exposed hip. I dropped my head against his shoulder. He kissed my temple, whispering, "Morning, lover." And there it was. Sparks ran down my spine, all the way to my toes. His morning, honeyed whisky-tinged, gravelly voice sent heat pooling everywhere.

His hand floated up my obliques and situated itself at the centre of my chest, where he massaged the narrow valley of my pecs. "I tried to wake you up last night," he said, spreading butterfly kisses over my cheek. "To tell you to take your meds, but you were passed out like a rock."

"Mm. Whose fault is that?"

"I gladly take the blame." He chuckled and guided his lips to mine. He kissed me slowly, a lazy glide of our tongues. "But you need to take a page out of your book and start taking care of yourself."

Sick of a barely there, over-the-shoulder-kiss, I spun around and dragged him on top of me. My ankles locked behind the small of his back, and my arms wound around his neck. "Too much work."

"I'll do it if you'll allow me."

I smiled and kissed him gently, my hands in his hair. I couldn't get over how soft it was, gliding through my fingers like it was just waiting for someone to feel it. Our cocks slid against each other, hard and heavy.

I tightened my hold on him. He thrusted forward and circled his hips, grinding into me. I met him thrust for thrust, gasping into his mouth, calling out his name in broken moans. I gripped his hair, dragged my nails down his back, held two handfuls of his ass, and pushed him further into me. He bit down on my collarbone, muffling those sweet sounds. My arms shot up, fingers curling around the headboard.

Sparks had turned to fire and heated my entire body. White hot and pleasure-filled euphoric sensations overwhelmed me to my tipping point.

His forehead touched mine. I let go of the headboard and clung to his shoulders. Our lips brushed, tongues tangling together. The raw feel of Beck on top of me made my muscles clench, quiver and shake. I was pulling him impossibly close, covering whatever space we had between us. I wanted him near, so near that no one could tell where he started and where I ended.

His hands flew to my thighs, holding them to his sides as he buried his face in my neck. He chanted my name like a prayer—

"Neil." I felt his lips move against my throat as his cum scorched my skin.

He held me as I exploded. As I bucked against him and lost myself to the calming storm behind my eyes. He kept rocking us through both our orgasms. Kisses dropped on my shoulders, face, neck, and chest like raindrops on a bleary day.

I came down from my high only to face shrill, tear-your-eardrums beeps from my watch.

"Jesus fucking Christ, can't give me a break for one second." I reached for my watch with the aim of ripping it off and throwing it out the window, when I realised the beeping was not for my heart rate but for an alarm. "Ah fuck. I have class."

"Skip it," Beck said, nuzzling my cheek.

"I wish. My grades are already low. Maybe if I show my tired, depressed face to the prof every day, he'll take pity on me and give me a decent score."

"I like your face." He kissed my nose. "Especially these cheekbones." A kiss on each cheek. He scrunched his eyebrows and made a faux-expression of pain. "Ow, I think I cut my lip over it."

I smiled and untangled us. Beck sighed, rolling to his back with his arms behind his head. The sun's rays fell on him at all the correct angles, sharpening his hip bones and obliques, tracing the curve of his quads, reflecting the cum on the outline of his abs when he pulled his stomach in, darkening the freckles on his nose and shoulders, lightening his beautiful blues to such an extent they were invisible. Even the Frankensteinian crisscross scars on his thigh and knee added to his long list of perfections. Then there was his delectable cock, lying limp and oh-so-perfect on his thigh.