Chapter Thirty-One #2
When David winced at the water hitting his skinned elbow, Meredith leaned down to kiss it better.
“I appreciate the sentiment, love, but I think that ointment from Mrs. J will be a bit more effective.”
David let him do it anyway. Meredith pressed the gentlest kisses to each of his wounds, no matter how minor, and David found himself doing the same in return.
Perhaps there was a kind of magic in the innocent optimism of the gesture, or perhaps it was only the psychological reset that resulted from immersing themselves in hot water, but over the next several minutes, the awfulness of the past hour gradually faded away.
Inevitably, both their hands began to wander, and soon enough their first few chaste kisses turned heated and stinging.
Backing Meredith into a corner, David seized a handful of his steam-frizzed hair and tipped his head back to kiss along his throat, but paused to ask, “Sure you’re feeling up to it?”
“I am,” said Meredith, and then, with a predatory grin, “Besides, as I recall, I made a promise to you regarding the kitchen table.”
“I have been meaning to collect on that, you know.” David flicked one of his nipple rings, drawing a hiss from him—at which point he found himself spun around and pressed against the shower tiles.
“Then again,” said Meredith, his voice dropping low and sending shivers down David’s spine, “I’m not so sure the poor table could stand up to it. Might have to relocate, what do you think?”
David didn’t know if he was capable of thinking, not with Meredith dragging his nails down his sides and trailing little bites down his back and the very definite hardness pressing against his ass. “Bed,” he managed.
Somehow, after a cursory effort at drying off, they made it across the hall.
In no time, David found himself pushed onto the bed so Meredith could resume kissing his way down his back, lower and lower, until he nudged David’s legs apart, and then lower still until everything faded into static aside from a single white-hot point of contact.
Over the next eternity, or possibly the next few minutes, David became distantly aware of several things: Meredith lifting David’s hips from the bed so he couldn’t make contact with the mattress, the sting of nails pressing into his skin, a stream of undignified sounds and broken encouragements in a voice that sounded suspiciously like his own.
Tingling sparks danced through his extremities, and if he hadn’t been more or less horizontal already, he was sure he would have collapsed.
Meredith stopped.
David came back to himself gradually as Meredith rubbed his back and murmured soothing nonsense. His balls throbbed, everything below his waist ached with need, and his entire body gave the occasional electrified twitch.
“Feeling all right?”
David’s voice came out a wordless growl. Finally, he managed, “That was—you are—you’d better only have stopped because you’re going to fuck me now.”
“I stopped because I thought you might actually pass out,” said Meredith, “but yeah, course I will. So long as you want me to.”
David could only gesture in the direction of the dresser, but Meredith understood, found the necessary supplies, made short work of putting them to use, and then—
David groaned with relief at the sensation of being filled. Having Meredith inside him was exactly what he needed.
“Oh, God, that’s it,” breathed Meredith. His movements were slow and shallow, and David needed more. Needed him closer, no matter the sheer impossibility of it. Though Meredith’s hands were gentle on his back, his touch seemed to singe David’s skin with every caress, and he couldn’t get enough.
“Go on,” he urged breathlessly. No—in all honesty, David was begging. “Go on and fuck me like you promised, so I still feel it all day tomorrow.”
“You sure?” Meredith leaned down, and—God, he was licking the sweat from between his shoulder blades, which David should have found revolting, but instead, it made him shudder.
“More than sure. Please.”
“All right, but tell me if it gets to be too much.” His movements picked up, hips slamming against David’s ass, cock buried inside him as deep as he could go. That was better—and better still when Meredith adjusted his position a short time later.
“There, that’s it, isn’t it, precious?”
In spite of Meredith’s insufferable smugness, David could only cry out his approval over and over, and when at last Meredith reached around to stroke him, David simply shattered.
“Oh, fuck,” said Meredith. It took only a moment more before he tensed and trembled against David, and then neither could hold themselves up any longer, and they collapsed together onto the mattress.
After a time, David found the energy to turn over and draw Meredith into his arms.
“I’ve got to get up,” he protested, though he made no effort to resist David’s embrace.
“Mm, I don’t think so.” David pulled him closer and buried his face in damp hair that still held the faint scent of sweet woodruff. “What for?”
“Practicalities,” said Meredith with surprising delicacy—which he promptly undermined by gesturing downward.
David grimaced. “I understood, thanks.”
“And I’m dying for some coffee. Haven’t had a cup all morning.”
“Oh, I see how it is,” grumbled David, and held him all the tighter.
Meredith laughed and nuzzled at his throat. “What, just can’t get enough of me?”
“No,” said David, and pressed a kiss to his temple. “You know I can’t.”