You work up a new rhythm together. He's still using his tongue to feel you inside and out, massaging your thigh with one hand and the fingers of the other still interlaced with yours. This time, though, he's broken up occasionally by the little gasps and moans he's making when you lick and suck at his heart, rubbing and squeezing it, trying to do whatever you can for him. Soon enough, you can feel the familiar heat building at the base of your spine, and you pull him in closer to you with your heels. He seems to get the message, and keeps a steady pace on your clit, waiting for you to tip over the edge. It's not long before you do, and you swear if his head wasn't made of metal you'd have crushed it with how hard your legs clench together. As you reach your peak, you can hear him beneath you letting out a loud moan of his own, and when you come down you realize that at some point you started squeezing his heart like a stress ball and oops. You guess that was enough to make him finish, too.
You slump back into the couch, exhausted and completely satisfied. He takes up a spot next to you, gingerly taking his heart back and putting it back in its chamber. You lean against him, feeling the warmth coming from his metal chest, and honestly he's not the softest pillow you've ever had but damn if you weren't comfortable. You close your eyes and sigh, perfectly content. He strokes the top of your head gently as you relax into him.
"Am I forgiven, darling?"
You manage to get out a mm-hmm before you drift off to sleep.