47. Chapter 47 #2
He snatched the loofah and the soap as Beau reached down and grabbed a handful of his ass, pulling until Colt was on his tiptoes. Beau's finger slipped between his cheeks, and Colt ground himself once against Beau’s thigh, soap and loofah trapped between them, before slapping Beau’s hand away.
“No.” He shook his head, his curls gone flat with the water, and squirted soap onto the loofah. “I am clean, but you told me I can touch you and I'm gonna fucking touch you. You don't get to distract me with your huge fucking hands.”
“What do you mean you're—” Beau shuddered as Colt pressed the loofah into his chest. He reached for Colt’s ass again. “You mean you—”
Colt slapped his hand away again and glared. “Stop. My turn.”
“Mhmm.” Beau crowded Colt against the wall, soap suds dripping down his thighs. Their noses touched as he leaned down and pinched Colt’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You get on with it, or I'm gonna hold you down and fuck your face like you been beggin’ me to all week.”
Biting his lip like he was tempted, Colt ran the loofah down to Beau’s stomach.
“Please? Let me do this.” He brushed his fingers along Beau’s length, which jumped at his touch.
“I'll be so good for you after, I promise.
I'll do anything you want, but—” Colt's voice cracked, and Beau pushed his hair back from his face.
“I've been dying for this for months. Please?”
“Yeah, boy.” Beau kissed his lips. “But you're mine after.”
“Deal.”
Colt spread soap over Beau's arms, his thighs, knelt to get his feet and work up between his legs. When Colt dropped the loofah onto the floor so he could use his hands, Beau nearly groaned. Moving up again, Colt gently rolled Beau’s balls in his palm, pushed back to rub against the tender spot behind them, and slid further into Beau's crease.
“Yeah?” Colt whispered against Beau’s skin when Beau’s hips jerked.
No one had touched Beau there since his twenties. He hadn't trusted anyone to, and he didn’t know yet whether he was ready for Colt to do it, either.
Reading Beau’s hesitation, Colt licked his hip and moved his hands back down. “S'ok. I like being fucked enough for the both of us.”
Colt stood, water streaming down his back, and wrapped his soapy hand around Beau's cock. He stroked once, slow and deliberate, thumb swiping over the head. Beau's hips rolled forward, and Colt grinned, all dimples and heat.
"There it is." Colt mouthed up Beau's chest to his throat, his hand still working Beau’s length. "Been thinking about this for so long. How you'd feel in my hand. In my mouth."
"Colt—" Beau's voice was already wrecked, and they'd barely started.
"Shh." Colt squeezed and twisted his wrist on the upstroke. "My turn, remember?"
He dropped to his knees again, Beau's hand shooting to the wall for balance. Colt looked up at him through wet lashes, water running down his face. Breathtaking.
"Gonna make you feel so good, baby." Colt kissed Beau's hip, his stomach, the crease of his thigh. "Promise."
"Boy, if you don't get your mouth on me in the next thirty seconds—"
Colt's tongue traced along Beau's length, base to tip, and Beau's threat died in his throat. It became a groan instead.
"Like that?" Colt did it again, slower this time, humming. "You taste so good."
"Colt." Beau's hand found Colt's wet hair and gripped it. Not pulling, just holding. Grounding himself. "Stop teasing."
"Make me." Colt grinned, all challenge and want, looking like the filthiest picture with Beau’s shaft against his jaw.
Wrong thing to say to Beau. His hand tightened in Colt's hair, and he angled Colt’s head back. "Open."
Colt's mouth parted without hesitation, tongue out, and fuck if that wasn't the best thing Beau had ever seen.
"Good boy." Beau guided himself to Colt's lips so he could rub the head against his tongue. "Now show me what you can do with that smart mouth.”
“Yes, sir,” Colt purred. He sucked Beau’s cockhead between his kiss-swollen lips and swirled his tongue around it before digging gently into his slit.
“Look at you,” Beau murmured as Colt flicked his tongue against the sensitive seam where the head met the shaft. “You look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock.”
Colt whined, sucking Beau down as far as he could and hollowing his cheeks until Beau's hips snapped forward. And Colt moaned, the sound buzzing through Beau's body where they were connected.
Beau tangled his hand in Colt’s hair and tugged him back, a string of spit and precum connecting Colt’s lips to Beau's tip. “You gorgeous little slut,” Beau panted, dragging his dick along Colt’s cheek and watching him chase it with his mouth. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to fuck my face.” Colt slid his hand up Beau’s calf. “Choke on your thick cock until I cry.”
“That fuckin’ mouth,” Beau growled. “Christ. I love your goddamn mouth.”
Colt parted his lips to reply, and Beau pushed himself into all that wet heat, guiding Colt forward with his grip on his hair.
He started shallow, wanting to work Colt up to the full length, but Colt proved what a needy brat he was when he grabbed Beau's ass and pulled until Beau was buried to the hilt.
“F—fuck!” Beau slapped his free hand against the shower wall and pulled out long enough for Colt to gasp, wet and ragged. He snapped his hips forward again and slid down Colt’s throat, and Colt moaned deep in his chest. “Fuck. Good boy.”
The sound of Beau's skin smacking against Colt’s chin over the running water was obscene and filthy. It was going to live in Beau's brain for the rest of his life. So was the way Colt gagged and moaned and drooled while he dug his nails into Beau's ass like he was begging for more.
“Shit. Look at me while I fuck you.” Beau grabbed Colt's jaw and pressed his fingers into the hinge, and Colt whined, dropping his hand between his legs and stripping himself desperately. Beau pulled out, and Colt choked, cried.
“Don't you touch yourself. You remember what I said?” Colt's cock leaked onto the shower floor. “You get what you want, and then you're mine.”
Nodding, Colt moved his hand to his own thigh and dug in his fingers. “Yeah. Yeah. I'm sorry. Please.” His voice was all gravel.
Beau pressed his thumb into Colt's mouth. “You ready? I'm close. Where do you want it?”
“Down my throat, please, shit, fuck—” Colt’s hips rocked, and he licked his lips. “Wanna taste you.”
“Shut up and open.” Steam stole what little breath he had left as he pried Colt’s mouth open without waiting for compliance.
When he slipped into Colt’s mouth again, Colt’s eyes fluttered closed, tears dripping down his cheeks.
Beau pushed forward in short, grinding thrusts, waiting until the last second before pulling out so Colt could get a gasp of air and then shoving back in.
Slick and wet, Colt’s throat convulsing around his tip, the filthy click-click sound of him going as far down as he could made his legs weak.
“Yeah,” Beau panted as he pulled harder on Colt’s hair just to feel him whine around his cock. “Perfect. You perfect fucking—just a little more. You—you can do that for me, right? My good boy.”
Colt tried to nod, a short jerk of his head, and he fixed those wet eyes on Beau and that look. God, that look. Like Beau was everything, like being on his knees was where Colt belonged and he knew it.
The orgasm wracked his body, hitting him from one breath to the next with all the force of a lightning strike.
Colt’s name spilled from his lips as he shoved himself as far as he could go down that tight throat and gave his boy everything he had.
Colt moaned, swallowing around him, hands tightening on Beau’s ass like he was trying to pull him impossibly deeper.
When he pulled out, the slick sound was followed immediately by Colt coughing and gasping.
“C’mere.” Beau reached down and hauled Colt up by his underarms so he could lean against the wall and rub Colt’s back. “You ok? I was—was that too much?”
“H-hell no,” Colt wheezed. He rolled his hips forward and dragged his dripping cock against Beau’s thigh. “I’m so fucking hard, oh my God. You’re perfect, this was perfect, please do that to me again, I—”
Beau cut him off by bending down for a kiss, the salty taste of himself flooding his mouth as he ran his tongue along the back of Colt’s teeth. Satisfaction curled in his chest, his limbs loose, sated. But Colt was rutting against his thigh, panting against his lips. His turn. Beau’s mouth watered.
“Bedroom.” He reached over and shut off the shower, kissing Colt’s jaw, his throat. “Move.”
Colt whined but obeyed, hurrying out while Beau grabbed a towel. He dried Colt off roughly—shoulders, chest, thighs—ignoring the way Colt grinding against him.
“Patience.” Beau swatted Colt’s ass and wrapped the towel around his hips. “Go on. Get.”
Barely holding the towel up, Colt stumbled to the bedroom. Beau could already see him spread out on his sheets, all that pale skin against the dark green, needy and dripping. He was gonna make this boy scream.
But when Beau started crowding Colt toward where he wanted him, Colt shook his head and turned. Pressed both hands against Beau’s chest and shoved him the other direction.
“Nope.” Colt licked his swollen lips, eyes wide and wild, pupils blown to hell. “Sit that perfect ass in the armchair.”
Beau blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.” Colt pushed again, walking Beau backward. “Sit, baby. You think I’m done with you?”
“Colt, you’re dripping. Let me—”
“Sit.”
He huffed as Colt shoved him into the leather chair, and his towel fell open. Before Beau could argue, Colt was dropping his own towel and climbing into his lap.
“You took my turn,” Colt murmured against Beau’s ear. “Sit here and let me collect what you owe, or you won’t get your hands on me at all today.”
“Boy, I am forty-two years old.” Craning his neck back to give Colt’s mouth better access, Beau dug his hands into the arms of the chair. “I ain’t twenty-seven. You’ve gotten all you’ll get today.”