Page 24 of Salvaged Heart

24

BECKHAM

T he bed rose and then dipped beside me as Anders rolled out of it and leaned down to nuzzle next to my ear. “Stay in bed.” He muttered. “I’ll be right back.”

“You stay,” I grumbled, blindly grabbing behind me and trying to pull him back under the sheet with me. The space where he had previously been pressed up against me was cold. But my body was too tired to chase him and wrestle him back in beside me.

He chuckled softly. “I want to make you breakfast.”

“You don’t cook.”

“Neither do you.”

Well, he had me there. Since Laurel had left at the beginning of the summer, Anders and I had been making do with cereal, yogurt, and fruit for breakfast. If we were feeling particularly daring, one of us would throw a few breakfast sausages in a pan over the skillet. But that almost always ended in one of the smoke detectors being triggered. At least we knew they worked.

“I can manage toast,” he added, “and coffee, so stay put.”

“Fine.” I relented and let him slip away. I listened to the pad of his feet disappear down the stairs and breathed in the scent of him that lingered on his sheets.

The dim light through the curtains told me we hadn’t been asleep for long. Anders had kept me up half the night, touching, kissing, teasing, whispering thoughts and promises to me in the dark. It was like something had unlocked in him, and the reserved, unsure-about-us Anders was gone.

“I’ll be good to you.” He’d said. “I’ll take care of your heart for as long as you let me have it.”

Promises and commitments that, during the light of day, would have felt scary, too heavy for the newness of us. But in the dark, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms, they had felt like solemn vows. They felt like our combined destiny had finally come to fruition.

“I won’t hurt you,” he’d said, “not on purpose. For you, I’ll keep trying every day to be a better man. A better man.” And, “for you, Beck, for you, for you, for you.”

I’d made my own, too, his face cupped in my palm, my lips tracing soft kisses over the planes of his face. “I’ll take care of you, Anders,” and “I’ll always be here for you.”

Such a small yet profound word. But as I pressed my eyes closed and let sleep pull me under again, my body hummed with the possibility of it.

Always.

I woke again, this time to the smell of dark coffee and the press of soft lips on my neck. Sure hands ran up my sides, across my shoulders, and up my arms, which cushioned my head, only stopping once his fingers slid between my own. My sleep- fogged brain slowly coming to, suddenly aware of every inch of his naked body pressing down on the back of mine, holding me caged in against the mattress. The weight of him, the feel of his hard cock trapped dangerously close to the crease of my ass, the slow way he was rolling his hips against me, causing my own to thicken and ache. I pressed back into him, chasing something I knew I wasn’t ready for, that he wasn’t ready for, but chasing it all the same.

“Easy.” The word coming out like a purr. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Want you,” was all I could manage.

“You have me.” He whispered, releasing my hands and shifting his weight slightly so he could trail kisses down my spine.

He kissed each vertebrae on the way down. He was slow, taking his time like he was worshipping me. Each kiss was reverent. Each kiss was complete and utter torture.

“Anders,” I moaned. “Need you.”

“I’m right here.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Patience.”

Finally, after what felt like hours, he reached the base of my spine, placing the last kiss on my tailbone right above my crease, moving next to bite playfully at one of my cheeks. The sharp, sudden pain sent a shudder through my entire body, his tongue running over the mark, soothing the already fading hurt.

“This ass.” He muttered against me. The low timber of his voice rolled through me. “The things I want to do to it.”

The thought made me feral. A few months ago, I would have never considered being with a man like this, strong hands gripping me with rough fingers, a low voice whispering filthy things into my ear, the feel of another cock thrusting against me, fingers trailing down between my ass cheeks, parting me… The thought of it had never repulsed me, but it had never been something I’d have considered a possibility for myself. It had always been soft hands, breathy high-pitched moans, plush curves, velvety heat…But now there was him.

Anders.

Now, my body craved everything about him. It reached out, desperate for anything he would give me—a smile, a kiss, a fraction of the pleasure his eyes were promising as I twisted to look at him over my shoulder.

“Have you…” He trailed off, something flickering in his gaze. The sureness, the confidence he’d just radiated, slipped slightly. If I hadn’t seen the expression on his face a hundred times already, then I might have missed it. Anders was trying desperately to hide the fact he was suddenly nervous.

“Hey.” I reached behind me as best I could, with him straddling my back, aiming for his cheek, but the furthest I could manage was somewhere by his elbow. I stroked the skin softly, up and down a few times, until the glassy look in his eyes seemed to pass. “You’re safe with me.” I reminded him, to which he nodded, the Anders who had disappeared for a moment clicked back into place.

He swallowed hard. “Have you ever been touched here?” His hand ran down the inner curve of my left ass cheek. The pad of one finger brushed tauntingly close to my hole.

I shook my head. Laurel would have balked if I’d tried to touch her there and probably died if I’d asked her to touch me that way.

“Have you ever touched yourself there?”

My cheeks heated, but I didn’t feel embarrassed. I felt lit on fire by a raw, all-consuming need. “Once.” His eyes darkened at my confession. “Just for a moment.”

His lips parted, but I knew what he was about to ask. He didn’t need to.

“Yes.” The word sounded more timid than I intended, so I locked eyes with his questioning gaze and said more sure the time. “I want you to, so fucking badly.” Then, one more time, because he still hadn’t moved, “Anders, please.”

That got him in motion. He practically jumped off me in the direction of his side table. “Roll over.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I had been digging a hole into the mattress this entire time. I flipped over, probably looking entirely too eager, my dick popping up from where it had been crushed beneath me, landing with a soft thump on my stomach. It caught Anders’ attention as he turned back to the bed, his tongue darting out between his lips as if it couldn’t help imagine running up the length of me. In his hands was a bottle of lube, which he tossed on the bed next to me.

“It’s just boring and flavorless, I‘m afraid.”

I was transfixed by him. His body left me completely breathless, and the tattoos marking his gorgeous, tanned skin were driving me wild. I'd seen them up close and personal last night, running my tongue over the lines of each one, whispering my approval into his flesh. One day, I’d ask him to tell me the meaning behind each one.

But not now, because now he was moving towards me again. Now he was sliding back onto the bed, parting my thighs gently so he could kneel between them… now he was leaning forwards and placing a single chaste kiss on the tip of my dick though there was nothing chaste about the primal look in his eyes. He popped the cap on the bottle I hadn’t seen him pick back up. I couldn’t see anything beyond those hazel orbs. They blazed with molten fire. My world suddenly consisted of only him.

“You ready?” I nodded enthusiastically. “It will be uncomfortable at first.” He added as if trying to talk me out of it.

Like either of us had any ability to stop . “I know. I trust you.”

He squirted the lube onto his fingers, the sound of it obscene, before bringing them down to behind my balls, leaving a thick, wet trail along my taint before circling a digit around my hole. My hips lifted from the bed on their own accord, my knees dropping wide in offering. He traced gentle circles around my rim, applying slight pressure on each slow drag over my hole, never penetrating. My heart stuttered in anticipation each time he did it. He had his lip caught between his teeth, eyes fixated on where he teased me slowly. I tried to move my hips onto him so he would breach me, but his other hand came down on my pelvis, holding me still.

“You are so needy.”

“I want…”

“I know what you want.” He cut me off, but then his hand disappeared. I whimpered at its absence, but he was just applying more lube. “Tell me to stop if…”

“Anders,” I practically barked at him. The desperation inside of me was bubbling over. I wasn’t opposed to begging.

But then his hand was there again, his finger pressed against me, pushing in…in…in. This time, he didn’t stop until he was knuckle-deep inside me. I gasped at the sensation of it. It burned, but not badly. There was so much pleasure there, too.

“You have to relax.” He groaned, and I hadn’t even noticed I had gone tense. “Take a deep breath and then bear down.”

I did as he said, allowing him to coach me through it. The sensation increased. First pain, a deep and aching thing that morphed into even more intense pleasure, until his finger was buried inside me. I nodded, confirming I was good, and he began to move slowly. Fuck it felt so good.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He shifted his position slightly to watch his finger move in and out of me. My eyes fell closed, but his expression was seared into my eyelids.

Before long, I was gasping, desperate for more. “Baby, I need …” He slipped a second finger in beside the first, and the noise that left my chest sounded animalistic. “Yes, fuck! Just like that.”

His mouth came down around my cock, warm and wet and fucking exquisite. I lost all ability to think coherent thoughts, a jumble of curses and praise falling from my lips as he sucked me in long lazy strokes. I rocked against him, alternating between pushing back onto his hand and up into that perfect mouth, chasing an orgasm he was keeping just out of my reach. My hands fisted in his hair, desperate to take control, but he wouldn't let me.

“Slow, easy.” He cooed around my cock before pulling back to ask, “You think you can take one more?”

I couldn’t get the words out between my moans and breathy pleas. I probably sounded ridiculous, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. My entire body was shaking with need. Luckily, he seemed to hear what he needed to and pushed a third finger into me, his wrist shifting as he did, causing his fingers to brush against a place inside me that had me lighting up like the Fourth of July.

I screamed at the sensation, and Anders responded with a chuckle. “That would be your prostate.”

“Fuck, do that again,” I begged.

He wrapped his mouth back around my dick and then complied. This time, him hitting that little button combined with the sensation of his warm wet mouth had me shooting instantly down his throat. He took it like a pro, swallowing my release like he was hungry for it. Humming in a way that had my balls unloading more, he was practically milking it out of me, my mind slipping to the edge of unconsciousness.

He pulled off me, slipping his fingers out of me at the same time, and I instantly mourned the loss. But I couldn’t move. I was floating out in the ether somewhere. I heard the cap on the lube flip open again, this time his hand coming to his cock. It was so hard and angry-looking, going almost purple at the tip as he jacked himself in rough, fast strokes. At some point, he moved so he was straddling my waist. The blunt nails of the hand not gripped around his dick, were biting into my chest.

“Open.” He commanded, and my lips parted through no control of my own.

A moment later, he came, hot jets of cum landing in my mouth, over my chin, and across my cheeks. I did my best to lap it up and swallow it down, but I was covered in it. A sight he seemed to enjoy significantly if the grin that now spread across his face was any indicator.

“Fucking perfect.” He growled with a smile.

It was as breathtaking as it always was before he leaned down, locked eyes with me, and ran his tongue up the middle of my chest through our combined releases.

“Holy shit,” I muttered, eyebrows shooting up.

It was one of the hottest sights I’d ever seen. He pulled back with a slurp and brought his mouth to mine, kissing me softly, tenderly even. The taste of us both on his lips was heady. My poor, orgasm-muddled mind was whirling. I clung to him, dragging his chest to mine, our cum sticky between us, but neither of us cared. We just had to be as close to one another as two souls could get, practically fusing every place we touched.

Eventually, he pulled away, leaving a last kiss on my nose. “I brought you breakfast.” He whispered, and it took a moment for it to register. “It’s probably cold now.” He added with a chuckle.

“It’s the thought that counts.”

A moment passed where he just looked at me, gorgeous hazel eyes sparkling in the morning sun. He looked so goddamn happy, and it warmed my soul that I was the one who made him feel that way. That it was me who was so lucky.

But then he said, “All my thoughts are of you, Beck,” and I knew. I knew that he felt lucky, too.