“Not yet.” Rhys moved his hand higher, grazing between Beckett’s spread legs.
“Oh, God,” Beckett groaned and spread his legs wider.
“When we get home.” He cleared his throat. “Back to your place, I want to be inside of you.”
Rhys traced his finger down beneath Beckett’s balls and pressed against his hole. “Do you think we can do that?”
Beckett’s eyes widened, and whatever haziness he’d been feeling before appeared to leave him in a flash. He sucked in a sharp breath and gave Rhys an appraising look, like he was unsure if Rhys was being serious or not.
“You want to…” Beckett trailed off.
“I want to do extremely graphic things to your body, darling.” Rhys leaned over the seat and pressed his lips against Beckett’s ear. “Will you have me?”
“God, yes.” Beckett arched off the seat, and Rhys grinned against the shell of his ear. He continued to tease the sensitive parts of Beckett’s body, knowing how abrasive the wool had to feel against Beckett’s skin. It was a sensation Rhys was well familiar with, and by the time they got to Beckett’s apartment, Rhys worried that he was going to get stripped naked in the elevator.
Thankfully, they made it inside, but just barely. Beckett toed off his shoes, and Rhys stumbled backward over them, taking Beckett with him as they collided into the wall with a loud thud. Beckett reached between their bodies and made quick work of their belts, dropping one on the floor inside the door and the other when they reached the hallway. Rhys set to unbuttoning his shirt while Beckett worked on his own, all the while walking backward, chasing kisses, and tumbling into walls.
They stopped in the hallway, Beckett shoving Rhys against the bathroom door and using his tongue to reduce Rhys to nothing more than a bag of muscles, skin, and one achingly hard bone. Rhys took Beckett’s hand and guided it into his pants, but Beckett’s wrist twisted and tangled, and instead he shoved Rhys’s pants and underwear down to the floor. Rhys stepped out of his slacks while Beckett painted his neck with wet and sloppy kisses, and they both fell to the floor when Rhys unsuccessfully tried to get out of his socks.
“I’m too old for this,” Rhys groaned when Beckett mounted him in the middle of the hallway, his cock pointing hard and proud toward Rhys’s face.
“For what?”
“For sex on the floor of a low income apartment, Beckett.” Rhys shoved Beckett onto his back and used his feet to kick down Beckett’s pants until they were both naked, and then he hauled Beckett to his feet and pushed him into the bedroom. He wasn’t a fan of Beckett’s apartment on the whole, but he loved howBeckettit was, the bed being no exception.
Beckett fell onto his back, nearly disappearing in a cloud of pillows and blankets, his hand vanishing between one to reappear with a tube of lube clutched between his fingers.
“What are the things?” Beckett asked, handing the lube to Rhys’s waiting hand.
“Hmmn?” Rhys was hardly paying attention. He situated himself on his knees between Beckett’s spread legs, his stare intent and focused on the soft pink hole between Beckett’s ass cheeks.
“You said there were graphic things you wanted to do to my body,” Beckett rasped, his cock jumping at the words. “Let’s hear it.”
Rhys tugged on his own balls, needing to hold off his quickly approaching end.
“Did you want a little dirty talk, darling?” He knew Beckett loved when he called him that, and so he used it sparingly. Beckett’s reactions to the endearment were worth more to Rhys than gold and he never wanted them to lose their luster or their intensity.
In confirmation, Beckett moaned and spread his legs wider.
“I’m going to make dessert out of this gorgeous hole of yours,” he said, tracing a circle around Beckett’s tight pucker. “Then I’m going find out what your body feels like on the inside.”
“Rhys.”
“I’m going to make your hole slick with lube and bury myself so deep inside of you I’ll lose track of where I end and you begin, and then…” He stopped himself.
And then.
“Please,” Beckett whined, and Rhys began to make good on his word.
He buried his face between Beckett’s ass cheeks, licking and sucking at his entrance, until the skin was damp and tender to the touch. Then he speared his tongue into Beckett’s ass, drawing a rough shout out of him. He tongue fucked Beckett like he truly was the dessert Rhys had been waiting all night for. Then with a calculated slowness, he added one of his fingers to the mix.
Rhys eased his way in and out of Beckett’s ass, over and over again until Beckett was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. And then he added a second finger. Beckett’s body was so slick with saliva, he stretched easily to accommodate the additional intrusion, and Rhys humped against the bed, twisting the sheets around his cock while he drove Beckett mad with lust.
“Rhys, please.”
“Please what, darling?” He paused, two fingers buried knuckle deep into Beckett’s body, Rhys’s lips swollen from all of the kissing.
“I want you.” Beckett reached for him, his hand falling short and landing against this stomach.
