17BLACK

Chapter 63

"'M sensitive, Lou." I hum against him in response, licking a long stripe up his arse. Harry doesn't even have enough energy to sit up after I fucked him. He just lays there on his belly, forced to take my mouth against his leaking bum.

There's come dribbling down his thighs and it's nearly enough to make me hard again. I carefully clean it up with a slight pucker of my lips, moving softly against Harry's shaking thighs. He mewls at the front of the bed, his face buried in the pillows.

I come up for air long enough to see him desperately grabbing at the mattress. I extend my hand.

"Want to hold my hand?" Harry reaches behind him to take my offer. I feel the slight tremble in his muscles as I trace my thumb over his palm.

"Love you." And then I'm going back to cleaning my come up from Harry's hole.

I'm licking and sucking and tasting a mixture of myself and Harry on my tongue. If I wasn't so tired I'd want to fuck him again. Even now I am resting on my thighs from exhaustion. The only thing keeping me going is Harry's muffled sounds of pleasure.

"Enough," Harry begs, his hand giving mine a death grip. I pull away, licking my lips and pressing one last kiss to his lower hip.

"You okay?" We sound like a pair of old smokers, our voices rough with exertion. I nearly laugh.

Harry lets go of my hand and rolls on his back. His skin is flushed a light shade of pink and his hair is wilder than usual.

"Wanna cuddle." That I can do. I make sure that he's all cleaned up and then I'm laying down beside him. He immediately clings to me, his hand wrapping around my torso and his head resting on my chest.

He's warm and soft against my skin and I'm aware of his heavy, deep breathing. It's comforting, and it's like a switch has been flipped inside me. Sleep hits me like a wave. I'm immediately tired and longing for a slumber.

"Which one do you like better?" I'm able to murmur into his hair. He smells good, like leather and a fruity soap.

"Hmhh?"

"Top or bottom?" Hopefully his corresponds with mine. It would be terribly unlucky if we liked the same thing.

Harry lazily kisses my chest, right next to my nipple. I suck in a sharp breath.

"Bottom." I breathe a sigh of relief. "You?"

"Top."

✖

"You know you didn't have to come today," I say as Harry and I cross the busy street to the hospital. It's 6:45, so visiting hours should be open soon. I'm carefully avoiding any thoughts on Will.

Harry puts on a brave smile, but I can notice the slight wince in his expression with every step he takes. He's incredibly sore, and refused any offers I made about him staying home and resting. He could barely get out of bed on his own, much less take a shower by himself. It was an interesting sight, seeing him lean on me and try to wash his hair at the same time. It was even funnier seeing him fall on his face while putting his pants on. They're the loosest pair of jeans I've ever seen him wear.

I tug on his hand and laugh at his awkward limping.

"I thought you didn't mind the pain." I nudge him with my hip and it nearly knocks him over. He grunts and shoots me a glare that's supposed to be intimidating. It forms into a smile.

"I didn't until I woke up. It feels like a tree is shoved up my arse." Harry chews on his lip and we sit down on a cold bench (Harry doesn't seem too pleased about sitting down).