40. Chapter 40 #2
Beau grabbed both of Colt’s thighs and yanked, and Colt dropped onto the hood with a gasp, warm metal against his back, cool night air against his front.
Sure, steady fingers hooked in his waistband and ripped his shorts and boxers off at the same time.
Fuck, they were outside. Anyone could walk by and see him being destroyed on the hood of Beau’s goddamn Silverado.
“So pretty,” Beau murmured as he pulled Colt back down so he could get to his chest again. “Look at you. Desperate, pretty boy.”
Colt pushed up, rutting against Beau’s chest, absolutely fine if he rubbed himself raw against Beau’s chest hair, rough and warm and perfect.
And he was making a mess of it as Beau sucked and bit next to Colt’s nipple, marking him again, making Colt leak just like the desperate boy he was calling him.
Wet hair caught against his cock as he sought friction.
Beau pushed his hips down into the hood of the truck, thumbs digging into Colt's Adonis belt as Beau bit and licked his way down, down—
“Holy fuck!” Colt gasped as Beau swallowed him down without a second's hesitation. A ragged moan ripped out of Colt as Beau bobbed, wet, drool already pooling around Colt's base, and Jesus Christ, Beau was shameless.
Colt jerked against Beau’s grip, and heat coiled in his spine, his balls pulling up, thighs quivering, and it was so fucking fast but how was he supposed to last with Beau swallowing around the head of his dick and humming like that? Fucking goddamn shit—
Beau popped off with an obscene, wet sound and snagged Colt at the base in a tight grip, and Colt could have cried as his orgasm was cut off.
“No, no, no.” He bit his lip and pushed his foot against the hood, trying to thrust up into Beau's grip, but Beau’s other hand still had Colt pinned. “You sadistic—fuck!”
Beau licked his lips, eyeing Colt like the last steak at a cookout. The bastard laughed, a low, rumbling chuckle as he stripped Colt’s shaft one, two, three times before letting him go entirely. “After that shit you pulled today, you think you're gonna get off that easily, boy?”
“I mean, fucking kinda!” There was a reediness to Colt’s voice, a desperation bubbling up from his chest.
A sharp crack split the night a second before Colt felt the sting of a hand against his ass cheek. Beau rubbed the mark with his palm, and pre gushed out of Colt, dribbled onto his stomach, and slid onto the hood. Beau’s eyes tracked the path, his chest heaving prettily in the moonlight.
“The mouth on you,” Beau said as he hooked an arm under each of Colt’s legs. He lifted and leaned down at the same time, rubbing his face along Colt’s inner thigh. Stubble caught and dragged against the light hairs on Colt’s legs. “You told me you'd be good for me.”
Colt whined, watching Beau between his legs, aching and twitching as Beau pressed his mustache against Colt’s skin and dragged down. “I knew it. I knew you'd be like—Beau. Shit. Yes. Yeah. I'll be good for you, baby, so good, just let me come. Let me—please? Please.”
“No,” Beau said just before he leaned down and licked up all the moisture against Colt’s stomach. His tongue was hot, flat, and possessive. "You wanna come?"
"Yes, fuck, yes—"
"Then be still for me." Beau's voice dropped, rough and commanding. "Can you do that? Can you be a good boy and stay still while I take care of you?”
Good boy, good boy, good boy.
“Yeah,” Colt breathed. “Yeah, I'll be good. I'll be so good, just—please. For the love of—please.”
Beau took him back in his mouth, and this time when Colt got close—thighs shaking, fingers scrabbling against the hood—Beau hummed around him and the vibration nearly ended it. Colt bit his own hand to keep from screaming, and Beau pulled off again.
"Not yet."
Colt whimpered. Actual tears burned behind his eyes. "Beau, I can't—please, I can't take—"
"You can." Beau's thumb pressed against his taint, a steady, circular pressure. "And you will.”
A tear slipped down Colt’s cheek. His dick was going to literally burst, purple at the tip and making a huge fucking mess. And he couldn't say no. Physically could not.
Swallowing, he nodded. “Okay.”
“Good boy,” Beau said, his voice gravel-rough from having Colt’s cock in his throat.
Colt's whine twisted into another moan as Beau took him down again, straight to the root, one hand holding Colt down, the other pressing insistently against that spot behind Colt’s balls that was apparently his ‘fuck yes’ button.
He was going to be good. So, so, so good. The fucking best. He didn’t move a muscle except for his clenching fingers as he looked up at the branches.
“Eyes on me, boy,” Beau growled at him, and Colt’s hips jerked—he couldn't help it, shit.
Without one single thought, Colt’s gaze snapped down to Beau just in time to watch him open his mouth and flatten his tongue against the vein at the underside of Colt’s shaft. He slid down without breaking eye contact, cheeks hollowing as he tried to suck Colt’s soul out through his dick.
Beau’s throat clicked as he swallowed, contracting around Colt’s tip, and Colt shouted. Scrambled to get a hand in Beau’s hair, another against his own mouth because the last thing he needed was to get arrested for indecent exposure when a neighbor called the cops. What a fucking way to go, though.
He didn't look away. Kept his gaze locked firmly on Beau's, panting, not moving, not fucking moving, because he was good. So, so good. So good for Beau, who could probably do literally anything to Colt right at this moment and he'd gladly let him.
“Beau,” Colt choked as his whole body tensed, as pleasure soaked every atom of his being, his balls tight, ready, his vision tunneling. “Beau, please. Please, I'm gonna—I'm—”
Beau pulled off just long enough to growl: “Come for me, Colt. Right now. Let me taste you.”
Then he sucked him down again and hummed, the vibration shocking through Colt’s whole lower half in a wave of sensation that was so intense he threw his head back to thunk against the hood of the truck.
The orgasm ripped through him, white-hot and devastating.
He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but shake apart while Beau took everything he had to give.
His vision shorted out. Stars. Actual fucking stars behind his eyelids. When had he closed his eyes?
Beau kept going, milking Colt for all he was worth until Colt sobbed, the stimulation bordering on painful.
Words wouldn't come as Beau pulled off of him and moved to place gentle, wet kisses against Colt’s hips, his stomach. Colt's toes clenched, the ones still in his shoe.
“Good boy,” Beau murmured as he squeezed Colt’s thighs, dug his thumbs into the muscles and moved in soothing circles. “That's right. You did so good for me.”
That praise settled warm in Colt’s chest. He was so fucked. Completely, utterly fucked.
Colt dropped his arm over his eyes. “Holy shit.”
“You said that,” Beau pointed out as he put one hand on Colt’s knee and moved away for a second. When he came back, he had one of their shirts in his hand and busied himself with cleaning the unholy mess Colt had made of himself. “You alright?”
The stars were still spinning overhead when he pulled his arm down from his eyes.
His laugh came out breathy, a little unhinged.
“‘You alright,’ he asks.” He lifted the foot with no shoe and wiggled his socked toes.
“I just had the most spectacular orgasm of my entire life wearing one shoe and tube socks. I think I forgot my own name for a solid minute. Awesome.”
Beau grabbed his ankle and dragged his thumb along it, lips twitching in an almost-smile. “You need water now. C’mon, boy, let’s get you inside.”
“Uh, no.” Colt pushed himself up on wobbly arms and slid off the truck, one shoe and all, making sure every part of his front rubbed against Beau as he got to his feet.
Then he dropped to his knees and pretended it wasn’t entirely unsexy that he had to hold Beau’s hips to steady himself as he did. “Your turn.”
He moved his hands to Beau’s belt buckle and leaned forward, opened his mouth against the head of Beau’s very hard cock trapped against his thigh.
And he understood Beau’s groan earlier as he drank in the smell of him—salt and work and something darker, purely Beau.
This was something he was good at. Very, very good at.
And Beau seemed to agree, because as Colt urged his mouth to fill with spit and soak through Beau’s jeans, Beau slid his fingers into Colt’s hair and ground against the pressure.
Thirty seconds ago, Colt would have said he wouldn’t be able to get it up again on pain of death.
But as he fumbled with Beau’s belt buckle, popped the button on his jeans and sucked on the wet fabric, Beau made this noise.
Tightened his fingers in Colt’s hair and jerked his hips forward and Colt knew he’d be ready for round two in three minutes flat.
Then Beau's hand closed over Colt's before he could pull the zipper down. His cock jerked hard against Colt's palm—wanting—but Beau's grip was firm as he pulled Colt's hand away.
"Stop." The word was rough, almost pained.
Colt looked up, confused, his mouth watering. “Why not?” He reached out and palmed Beau through his pants, felt his—thick, fuck—dick pulse under his hand. “You’re—I can feel you. You want this.”
Beau pulled Colt’s hand away, gentle but resolute. Let go and rebuttoned his jeans with shaking fingers. “That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?” Gravel dug into Colt’s bare knees as he looked up at Beau, whose face was starting to do that shut-down thing it did when he didn’t want anyone to see what he was thinking. “Why can you touch me but I can’t touch you?”
For a long moment, Beau worked his jaw. Then: “This was about taking care of you. That’s what I needed.” He cupped Colt’s jaw. “To know you’re okay. That’s—that’s enough.”