Bitter Sweet Heart (Lies, Hearts & Truths #2)(97)

“I need finals to be over. Once finals are over, it’ll be better. Then it’s just contract talks. It’ll be better then.”

He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into his lap. I rearrange myself so I’m straddling his thighs.

He glances at the clock on the nightstand. “I’m so sorry this keeps happening. I should probably sleep at my place until it stops. Or maybe the spare room. I don’t want you to be alone at night.”

I take his face in my hands. “Hey, look at me.”

His gaze moves away from the clock, his exhaustion and guilt obvious. “It’s no good if neither of us are sleeping through the night.”

I caress the edge of his jaw. “I can handle a few broken nights of sleep.”

“This has been nearly constant for the past week. I have an exam in six hours, and you have to proctor one.” His fingers drift up my arms, then down my back.

“We’ll both survive the day with coffee, and then one more exam for you and it’s done.”

All I can do is reassure him for now, but the truth is, this lack of sleep stems from a lot more than his nightmares. It’s everything. Since the incident with Gabriel, Maverick has been hyperattentive, worried about my safety to the point that he’s double-and triple-checking the locks and the alarm before bed.

Even on the nights when he has a late shift at the gym, or practice, he still comes to stay the night. Before this, he stayed often, but there were always a couple of nights of the week where he’d sleep in his own bed. Now it doesn’t matter what time it is; he comes here.

He wraps his arms around me, dropping his head and pressing his face against my neck. He breathes me in. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, whether to me or an invisible force that’s shredding his mind with painful memories he can’t exorcise, I can’t be sure.

“It’s okay. Tell me what you need. How can I help?”

“It’s late. I should let you sleep.” His hand settles on my hip, thumb slipping under my thin shirt, skimming bare skin.

“I can sleep later. Do you need a distraction from whatever is in your head?”

His brows pull together, his expression uncertain even as his eyes darken with lust. “Are you sure you’re down for that? It’s stupid o’clock in the morning, and I know it’s not exactly a sedative for you like it is for me.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t sure.” I lean in and press my lips to his, sucking the bottom one, letting it slide between my teeth.

“I love you so much,” Maverick says on a low groan.

“I love you too.” I pull back, grab the hem of my sleep shirt and lift it over my head, dropping it on the bed beside us, leaving me naked.

He cups my breasts in his palms, thumbs brushing over my nipples before he takes one into his mouth, gentle at first, then applying more suction.

I push the covers down and free his erection from the sheets. His teeth sink into my breast when I wrap my fingers around his cock.

He exhales heavily, thickening and lengthening with each stroke. Over the months we’ve been together, I’ve grown accustomed to his size. I don’t think there will ever be a point that I don’t need at least a little preparation before we have sex, but we can manage a semi-quickie on occasion.

Tonight, though, I feel his need to lose himself in me, and I want the same. I don’t care if I’m exhausted tomorrow. The closer we get to the end of the semester, the closer we get to contract talks and all the uncertainties that brings with it—which is another layer to his nightmares, I’m sure.

“I want you in my mouth.” I shimmy back on his thighs and nudge his legs apart so I can settle between them. I leave wet kisses on the shaft, working my way up to the head and running my tongue over the slit before I take him in my mouth.

“Fuck, Clover. Why are you so good to me?” His fingers drift down my cheek, skimming the place where my lips and his cock meet.

I pop off and kiss the tip. “Because you’re my favorite person in the world, and I love you.” I wrap my lips around the head again.

Maverick gathers my hair in his hand to keep it from getting stuck to my lips. He folds his other arm behind his head, propping himself up so he has a better view.

I take my time, alternating teasing strokes of tongue with gentle suction. And I take as much of him as I can until the head hits the back of my throat and my eyes threaten to water—which, incidentally, is the point at which Maverick always stops me.

“It’s your turn.” He cups my face in his hands and eases me off. “And I need a minute or ten.” He sits up and kisses me. It’s sloppy and wet, full of pent-up desire. He moves me to lie on top of the comforter, head at the foot of the bed, and settles his massive body between my thighs, hiking one over his shoulder and pushing the other out to the side.

He drops his head and licks up my center. I pull in a gasping breath and grip his hair in preparation. But he doesn’t lick me again. Instead, he moves to the inside of my thigh, kissing me softly before he sucks on the skin.

“I can’t ever get enough of you.” He nibbles his way back up the inside of my thigh. “I want you all the time.”

“It’s the same for me,” I assure him. I don’t want to think about what it’s going to be like when he’s in another state. Not now.