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His cock was stretching the fabric all the way to his left hip and I choked. “Shit,” I whispered. “You’re, uh…” I vaguely remembered Beckett asking me to watch him while he showered a week ago. And I remembered, just as vaguely, saying something about not being impressed. He was proving me wrong.
Beckett laughed out loud. “A grower? Yeah.” He shook his head. “And I’m guessing you’re a size queen.”
Heat washed over my face and I opened my mouth to apologize or deny or say anything at all, but Beckett laughed louder and stepped forward.
“I’m just fucking with you, Caden,” he said, resting his hands on my bare hips. The heat of his body reached me. “But hey, if you are, then we’re both in luck.”
His hands moved over my hips slowly, trailed my waist, and rested on my ass. And when he squeezed my cheeks and pulled me closer to him, my crotch pressed against his. He throbbed just like me.
I moaned shortly, silenced by Beckett’s lips on mine. Feeling those hard muscles pressing against my bare torso was something I’d never let myself imagine. Almost never. There had been times, admittedly, when Beckett conveniently entered my thoughts, though not all too often.
Beckett’s kisses became hungry and greedy quickly. He pushed forward, sliding his hands from my ass, up my back, and forcing me against the edge of the desk.
He was so fucking right. We should have been doing this for the past two and a half years. It felt so much better than watching him fume; though being the cause of his fuming had its certain charms, as well.
Beckett reached down and grabbed me under my ass, pressed me against his body, and lifted me. I was a good thirty pounds lighter than him, so I wasn’t surprised. My legs spread abruptly and wrapped around his waist. One of his hands held onto me as the other hand swept the surface of my desk, sliding books, notebooks, and a mug full of pens onto my bed before he lowered me onto it.
“Fuck,” I gasped, my attraction to Beckett shooting so high in that one moment that I could hardly follow. My legs tightened around his waist and I wanted to cry out when he grinned. He was so fucking handsome that it left me panting.
Beckett leaned in, kissing me so intensely that my torso lowered under the pressure and I lay flat on the desk. He swung his hips back and forth, teasing me gently at first, then harder. His kisses were in the rhythm of the dry humping that intensified and continuously pushed air out of my lungs.
His lips trailed off mine, ghosting kisses down my neck and over my chest. Beckett followed the middle of my torso, hands sliding down the sides of my ribcage, as I closed my eyes and surrendered myself to Beckett’s worship of my body.
My eyes didn’t stay shut for long. When I began imagining Beckett’s golden hair and deep blue eyes, I knew it was better to just gaze at him. I’d been avoiding it for way too long and, now, I was finally allowed to feast my eyes.
Beckett was kissing my belly button, but his gaze was on me, scanning me from under his black eyebrows.
“Are you gonna fuck me?” I panted.
Beckett’s hand brushed quickly over my hard cock. “I better,” he said, giving me a sinister smile. “If I don’t, you’ll never forgive me.”
I would have laughed, but that wicked smile lifted my soul to another plane of existence, from where I couldn’t control my muscles. I was limp and fully at Beckett’s mercy. And, oddly enough, I was fully on board with that arrangement.
“Have me,” I whispered as Beckett hooked his fingers inside the waistband of my sweatpants and underwear and yanked them both down my legs. My cock stiffened and halted upright, its tip slick with precum and swollen to bursting.
Beckett lifted one corner of his lips lazily, looking up and down my entire, naked body. “I’m starting to think you might be into me,” he said.
“Shut up,” I huffed, my face heated and my breaths shallow. I managed a meek smile as Beckett laughed at that, then lost my mind when he bent down and closed his lips around me. “Fuck,” I rumbled deeply and slowly as Beckett swallowed me.
He sucked me hard and fast, feeling each throb of my dick and slowing down to prevent any happy accidents that would cut our time together short. And, in those moments, I could feel the fucker smile around my cock.
I moaned loudly and for a long while when Beckett loosened his throat with the sheer force of his stubborn will and swallowed me whole, lips touching the neatly trimmed hair around the base of my cock. Whether he wanted to shut me up or slick his fingers, it wasn’t immediately clear, but Beckett used the moment of my ecstatic moaning to shove three fingers into my mouth.
His thumb and pinkie held my head in place as he probed my mouth with the remaining three fingers. He pushed and pulled like my head was just another toy at his disposal and like my mouth was just another hole to fill. Then again, he didn’t treat his own mouth any differently, so I didn’t protest.
Seconds felt like minutes; minutes like hours. Beckett used his free hand to lift my leg over his shoulder and I lifted the other on my own as soon as he pulled his fingers out of my mouth. Hell, I knew exactly where he was heading, and it made me dangerously close to the edge of my impending orgasm.
Beckett’s slick fingers touched my hole and I whimpered with pleasure, warmth spreading through my chest, excitement tingling all the way from my toes to the tip of my nose. He massaged my rim slowly and gently, sucking me at the same, an infuriating pace that kept me at the edge, but never let me cross the line.
When his index finger slipped inside my body, my toes curled and the back of my head hit the desk. He probed me slowly, getting me used to the sensation, until he felt like I was ready for another.
And when he was fucking me with three fingers, my eyes rolled back in my skull and I panted short breaths just to stay alive. Light-headed and horny beyond anything I knew, I thrust my hips off the desk, hitting the back of Beckett’s throat and making him produce a choking sound.
I couldn’t take his edging any longer, but he still wasn’t letting me finish. The sweetest, sexiest frustration uncoiled in my chest and it spread throughout every last shred of my body. My ankles crossed on Beckett’s back as he lowered his head down my cock. He fingered me ruthlessly without slowing down and I locked his head between my thighs, forcing him to hold my cock pressed against the back of his throat for so long that another choking sound erupted from his stuffed mouth. His fist worked me harder as panic flashed in his eyes for an instant before I released him.
Beckett pulled his head back, letting my cock drop out of his mouth, and gave me the sexiest smile. His free hand pressed the middle of my chest, pinning me against the desk. “You’re so screwed, Jones,” he said.
“Was that too much?” I asked airily.
