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It wasn’t as if Beckett was being quiet either. When Miles had received blowjobs in the past, those giving them had been dead silent, as if they were scared to make a noise, as if it would be embarrassing. But Beckett freely moaned and groaned around Miles’s cock. He let his tongue make wet, sloppy noises. Sometimes, he made half-swallowed gagging noises. Not because he was actually choking, but because he wanted Miles to hear just how much his dick was filling up his throat.
The sound of Beckett sucking him like that turned Miles on like nothing else. He felt his balls get tight.
“Wait.” The first time he said it, his voice was weak, so the word was barely audible. He clutched the sleeping mat tighter. “Beckett,” he tried again. “Wait.”
Beckett pulled his mouth off immediately, and his body heaved under the sleeping bag as he sucked in a ragged breath.
Miles yanked the sleeping bag off.
6
BECKETT FROZE.
“I want to see you,” Miles said. “Is that okay?”
Though Beckett’s expression was obscured with darkness, his nod was clear.
Miles turned the phone torch on and saw the way his pants had been dragged down to his knees, the way his cock stood erect. Then there was Beckett who looked like an absolute wreck. His cheeks were flushed, his lips pink and swollen and glistening with something, saliva, or pre-come, or both.
“Can I continue?” Beckett’s voice was husky, which made Miles wonder how hard sucking him off had been on his mouth.
“Please,” Miles said, and Beckett lowered his head. He wrapped one hand around the base of Miles’s dick, and as his eyes flicked up to meet Miles’s, he tapped the head against his open lips.
“Haa…” Miles breathed.
He couldn’t say anything as he watched Beckett spread his lips and once again take all of him inside his mouth. As he bobbed his head, he grabbed Miles’s hips and held on tight. His eyes were closed, brow slightly creased in concentration.
“Look at me,” Miles pleaded.
Beckett looked up at him, eyes molten with lust, and Miles’s dick twitched. He’d always known Beckett was good looking, but right then he looked gorgeous.
“Beckett,” he whimpered. “I’m—oh, fuck. I’m—I’m going to come.”
He was panting now, like he was running a marathon instead of lying down, receiving the best blow job of his life. Beckett showed no signs of slowing down.
“Beckett,” he warned. “I’m—”
With a gasp, he felt his dick pulsate and shoot into Beckett’s throat. If Beckett reacted, it was only to tighten his lips around Miles’s length while he continued to slurp on him frantically. All Miles could do was tremble as he came into Beckett’s mouth. After he was done, Beckett lapped at the slit as if making sure he got every last drop.
Miles watched through half-closed eyes as Beckett sat up on his knees, his tall, strong body looming over Miles, and licked his lips. Even though Miles had just finished, his dick still twitched at the bulge in Beckett’s pants.
Beckett was hard. From sucking Miles’s dick.
Beckett pushed one hand down the front of his pants and gripped himself, letting out a long, low moan. His fist started stroking, but Miles couldn’t see anything with the pajamas in the way.
“Let me see,” Miles said, not for the first time that camping trip. Hadn’t Beckett learned by now? Miles wanted to see everything.
Beckett paused.
“Please,” Miles said.
And so Beckett shoved his pants and boxers down to his knees, giving Miles a perfect view of his muscled thighs and erect manhood.
It didn’t take long for Beckett’s hand to falter and his breaths faster and heavy. Miles knew Beckett could last a long time—last night, he lasted longer than Miles—but something about tonight had already pushed him to the edge.
Miles grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, past his abs and chest, all the way to his collarbone.
“Come on me,” he said.
