Chapter 3 #6
All of that makes it so easy to take things to the next level, to follow through on his intended “gift” to Paxton.
He gets his hands on Paxton’s shoulders, pushing him away and breaking their kiss with a smack and great reluctance on both of their parts.
The little of Pax’s face he can see in the dark, he’s terribly beautiful and drunk on the moment, and Blake just wants to give him more.
Especially knowing Pax’s history — maybe that’s a shitty excuse or whatever, but Pax is on a whole different level than the other people here.
Using sex to cope with addiction isn’t a negative in Blake’s mind, so long as it ain’t hurting anybody.
It’s kinda shitty to take that away, to expect Pax to be able to operate like everyone else who’s just horny and stupid bad at acting like an adult.
Fortunately, this? Blake can fix. And it’ll be worth every damn penny.
Determined, he shoves Pax up against the side of the house, making him grunt.
With a meaningful look that he hopes Pax can see through the shadows, Blake drops to his knees.
Right away, Pax groans quietly, widening his stance and making himself comfortable against the wall.
Both of his hands go right to Blake’s hair; he knows what the fuck is up, and he’s down with it.
They were standing in mulch, so now that’s what Blake has the pleasure of kneeling on.
It’s uncomfortable; little pieces of bark poking into his skin, making the ground uneven beneath his bones, but Blake barely cares.
He’ll probably regret it later when the liquor and weed wear off, but for now, Blake just sees Pax. Just wants him, and badly.
Once he has Pax’s green light, Blake works the towel off and his shorts down, letting them drop to his ankles.
If Pax has reservations about doing this out here, where anyone could stumble upon them, he doesn’t say so.
Blake knows it’s a moot point — since they’re almost certainly being filmed — but he cares exactly not at all.
As far as he’s concerned, the only person in the entire world right now is Pax.
In front of him, Pax’s cock is steadily filling out, heavy and thick.
It’s slightly wider than Blake’s, maybe an inch shorter — perfect-sized, exactly what Blake likes.
“Pax,” Blake murmurs, running a hand up Pax’s thick, muscular thigh.
The only thing wrong with this scenario is that they’re not on a bed where Pax can squeeze his head in between those gorgeous things.
That thought has Blake stiffening up in his own shorts, pressing the heel of his hand to his crotch in response.
“Want you,” he says into Paxton’s skin, pressing a soft kiss to the crease of his groin.
Above him, Paxton exhales in a measured way, barely suppressing a twitch of his pelvis that suggests he wishes Blake would get a move on.
Smiling to himself, Blake wraps his hand around Paxton’s cock and strokes loosely until he’s nearly fully erect.
Starting at the base, Blake teases with his tongue, licking a stripe up the length of him, and Pax’s reaction is beyond satisfying.
Pax moans, his head thudding against the stucco, his hips doing their best not to rock.
Blake removes his hand, uses it to press Paxton back against the wall by his chiseled hip bones before tonguing around the head of his cock and then swallowing him all the way down.
As Blake swirls his tongue and sucks, humming and taking Pax as deeply down his throat as he’s able, Pax seems to waver between trying to muffle his sounds and wanting to be as loud as he can be.
Blake would laugh if it were possible — if they happened to be getting away with this before, he’s sure they aren’t now.
“Blake, Blake,” Paxton murmurs, and that encouragement is all Blake needs to go harder.
Once he’s adjusted to the sensation of having his throat fucked, he sets Pax’s hips free, lets him thrust all he wants.
He forces his jaw to go slack, swallows around the intrusion, doesn’t forget to use his tongue in the meantime.
This ain’t Blake’s first rodeo — this is something he knows that he’s good at, knows he can make good for Pax. It matters to him in a way it never has before that it is good for Pax.
In fact — Blake doesn’t worry about himself at all. He’s hard in his pants, sure, but he’s not touching himself or making any attempt to get off.
When Pax tenses and shudders and comes hot and with a thrilling moan down Blake’s throat, he feels like he could probably come too, just from the experience.
The way Pax curls around his upper body, then yanks him to his feet and tries to kiss the taste of himself right out of Blake’s mouth — it’s the sexiest kind of move, it’s everything Blake could ask for in a partner.
But Blake resists his urges, because this is about Pax, and Blake wants him to know that.
So when Pax moves to reciprocate, Blake fights his hands down, says, “No, sweetheart, I’m all kinds of good.
” As much as Blake can’t see, he knows Pax is looking at him quizzically, but Blake just nuzzles his nose under Pax’s jaw and squeezes his hip. “Wanna go to bed?” he asks, hopeful.
“With you?”
“I mean, only if—”
“Yes.”
Blake doesn’t need to see Pax’s face to know that he’s smiling.