Page 87 of Silent Is The Heart

I awake to moonlight spilling through the bedroom windows. Blinking, I squint at the stars over the woods outside, remembering the last time I was here. We had the curtains drawn tight for fear that Jason could be out there watching. Aaron must have opened them at some point. It’s an inspiring nod to his unflinching attitude in the face of everything. Defeat or be defeated.

Glancing down, I zone in on the soft stroking sensation over my ribs. Aaron’s gaze is fixed nowhere, a peaceful look on his face as his thumb traces little paths along my skin. Running my fingers through his hair, I cover his hand with my other one. We must have slept for hours on end.

“How long have you been awake?”

His shoulder rises, and he hums a sleepy sound. “A little while.”

“You could have gotten up.”

“I was happy where I was.” Leaning up, he dusts his lips over mine. “Did you sleep okay?” he asks, drawing back like he’s going to sit up.

I go with him, but turn and plant a hand on either side of his hips. Leaning in, I give him another kiss, deepening it on purpose until his head rests on his pillow.

“Yes,” I whisper in front of his mouth.

Looping his arms around my neck, he treats me to that beautiful smile of his. I’ll never get over his All-American, poster-child-for-handsomeness thing. Bending down, I trail kisses along the underside of his jaw. We’ve been in this bed dozens of times, but for some reason, everything feels new. Each touch. Each kiss.

It reminds me of the first night we were together and the way he garnished my body with a series of delicate caresses and touches of his lips. It seems fitting to return the gesture now. Moving lower, I work my mouth across his collarbone and around one dark nipple.

There’s this sense of freedom in the air and maybe even around my soul, like the burdens of the past are far behind me. I don’t exactly want the past to be gone—there were so many moments of it I’ll cherish. However, it feels as though it’s finally been sorted, a two-thousand-piece puzzle that’s last piece has finally been placed.

Trailing my cheekbone along his side, I breathe him in and trace the cords in his arm with my fingertips. His hands strokemy hair lazily, and his stomach rises and falls on a contented sigh.

“I guess you had a good dream,” he teases.

Smiling against his happy trail, I press a kiss below his belly button and slide my hand up the leg of his shorts. “No, but I woke up next to one.”

He barks out a laugh, shaking against my jaw. “Good one.”

Reaching into the other leg of his boxer briefs, I slide my hands underneath him, grip the elastic, and slide them down. When I glance up, he lifts his hips and has that dreamy look on his face that I love. It always makes me feel like I can do no wrong, which is far from the truth. But, in Aaron’s eyes, I don’t think I can. It’s an unexplained mystery for the ages.

Making up for a lifetime of neglecting foreplay, I paint his body with my palms and brush my lips across the delicate skin at his hips. I work my way down to his knees, which has him producing a giggle when I skirt to the back of his knee. Ticklish spot—noted.

His hands grip my shoulders and he tugs at me to move back up, but I resist. I’m far from finished. Kneading the muscles in his legs, I do my best to give him some kind of massage as I place little kisses and brushes of my tongue on the insides of his thighs.

“Am I going to get to participate in this?” he asks, his voice sounding strained.

I have to look around the obstruction standing in my view when I peer up at him. “It looks like you already are.”

Snorting, he reaches down and gives himself a stroke. The sight of him touching himself has my balls drawing up tighter.

“It didn’t require much effort on my part,” he snarks and then bites his lower lip when he sees the tent in my boxers.

“Good,” I concur, crawling higher and sliding my underwear down. “There’s something sexy about a lazy, horny man.”

His laughter dies out when I slide my lips over the head of his cock until they kiss his hand. Grunting, he releases his grip to cup the underside of my jaw. His fingers slide down my neck, stroking it as I take him deeper.

I swear I appreciate everything from before this mess happened, but everything feels different now. I thought I was more in tune with him than anyone I’d ever been with before, but now…now it’s like discovering a new drug. I’m not rushing for a finale, hopped up on pheromones or lust. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to see that look on his face when he cums, but just the act of having him in my mouth is a moment not to go unappreciated.

Rolling my palm gently over his sac, I glide my tongue up the thick vein on the underside of his cock. Sighing, he scoots his feet closer to his ass, inviting. I slip my fingers down his crease and then back up. It’s nothing to write home about, just a light pet, but it feels more intimate than the times I’ve slipped my fingers inside him.

“Okay, okay,” he lets out in a rush. “I give up now. Come here.”

I go where I’m yanked, his fingers digging into the meat underneath my armpits. Landing on his chest with anoof, my amusement is stifled by the urgency of his mouth. His legs do some kind of contortionist thing, flicking my boxers off from around my ankles with his feet. Gripping my back with one hand, he stretches his other arm toward his nightstand and fumbles for the bottle of lube. Does he think I’m going to go somewhere if he lets go?

Bending his knees, he widens his legs around me and flicks the bottle open, leaning up to attack my mouth the entire time. I hear asquelchsound and then feel him flinch. His hand brushes against my balls, telling me he’s smearing his cold deposit over his hole.

Someone’s eager. Three cheers for foreplay.

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