Page 114 of Jackrabbit

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.”

Colt flattened his tongue and licked him up to the shell of his ear. “Sounds like a challenge.”

Fuck if that didn't send heat straight down Beau's spine. He should shut this down. Should take control back, throw Colt onto the bed, make him—

Colt ground down on his thigh, and Beau's thoughts scattered like buckshot.

His hands flexed against the leather with the urge totouch, but Colt would deny himself just to spite Beau if he didn’t listen. So he’d be patient—let Colt touch his fill, and pay him back tenfold later.

Never had Colt done anything by halves, and he didn’t here either. He kissed and touched and rutted against Beau’s thigh, hands on Beau’s chest, his sides, his soft cock. It didn’t matter to Colt. He kept going, licking and sucking everyinch of skin, rubbing his nose and cheeks against Beau’s chest hair, dropping to his knees and biting down on the squish of Beau’s stomach.

“You’re gorgeous,” Colt moaned against Beau’s happy trail, kneading next to his own face and shoving his tongue into Beau’s bellybutton. “I wanna rub myself all over this until I’m dripping down your skin.”

Beau groaned, his hips shifting as arousal flooded him. “Filthy. You filthy, perfect little thing.”

“Yeah,” Colt agreed, nipping Beau’s stomach one more time before moving down.

He avoided the area between Beau’s legs, moved to his foot and kissed up the arch of it, pressed his face into Beau’s calf and found the constellation of perfectly round scars from the metal cage they’d used to keep his leg stabilized after his accident. Each one got a kiss, a lick, until Colt had moved to the outside of Beau’s knee and found the tail end of the jagged mess of scar tissue.

Partners avoided Beau’s scars. Especially this one. It was ugly, a roadmap of pain and surgery and emergency procedures. It wasn’t nice, and it made the men he’d been with uncomfortable. Even Paul, who he’d dated for eight months.

Colt’s hands joined his mouth and ran up the length of it. He fit his tongue into every dip, every pit, not one second of hesitation, like Beau’s biggest flaw was just as worthy as the rest of him. Beau’s chest was rising with short, shallow inhales, and he couldn’t look away as Colt continued on, kept one hand on Beau’s scar and kissed his way to the inside of his thigh.

“Can I fuck your thighs, Beau?” Colt rasped into thin, sensitive skin. “Not today, but—fuck. I love your thighs. So thick and strong. I wanna make a mess of them.”

“Christ.” Beau ran his hand down his chin.

This wasn’t touching. This was something else. Like reverence. Like Beau’s body was the altar Colt worshiped at.

Completely unbothered by the lack of answer, Colt shifted to the junction between Beau’s thigh and groin and took a deep, heavy breath. He moaned, and Beau’s cock swelled against Colt’s drying curls.

“There you are,” Colt murmured, sucking the skin under his mouth and palming Beau’s balls. Beau’s hips rutted forward, and Colt chuckled. “Knew you had it in you.”

Opening his mouth, Colt licked the seam of Beau’s sac before taking one of his balls into his mouth, getting it wet with drool, and moving to the next. Then he came back to kiss the sensitive skin behind them, pressed his tongue up and swirled until Beau was rocking shallowly against his mouth.

“Shit,” Beau husked as Colt moved on to lick, wet and sloppy, up Beau’s shaft before lapping up the moisture at his tip. “Colt. Colt,please—”

Wide, green eyes met his, and Colt’s mouth stretched into a feral grin. He kissed Beau’s inner thigh one more time before climbing back into his lap, straddling him and stealing what little air Beau had left with a kiss that tasted like Beau’s skin. Colt shifted his hips until his shaft was alongside Beau’s and rolled forward, moaning into Beau’s open mouth.

“Good boy,” Beau groaned, peeling his hands off the armchair and digging his fingers into the tops of Colt’s thighs. “Just like that. Show me. Show me what you need.”

Colt’s hips stuttered once before he sucked Beau’s bottom lip between his teeth and rutted harder. “Touch me. Please. Please touch me—I can’t—”

Beau grabbed Colt’s ass with both hands and pulled. “Harder.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Colt wrapped his hand around them both and rolled his hips, sharp and desperate. “You feel so good. I want you to fuck me. I want—but I’m—”

Too close, probably, and Beau was too, but the thought of fucking Colt to within an inch of his life had Beau shoving Colt back just enough to spit on their joined cocks to ease the slide. He wrapped his hand around Colt’s and rocked his hips up, rutting into their hands, sliding along the wet skin of Colt’s length.

“Mine,” Beau growled into Colt’s throat as he thumbed Colt’s slit. “Say it, Colt. Tell me you’re mine.”

“Yours.” Colt tipped his head back and half-sobbed, half-moaned, flushed and beautiful andBeau’s.“I’m yours, baby. Please. I’m so close. I need—”

“I know what you need.” Beau worked faster, far past desperation himself. “You're such a good boy for me. So pretty and slutty and perfect.”