Page 12 of The Bounty
“I do.” Wags surrendered on a moan, and Blaine struck, more gently than Wags had anticipated, his tongue gliding between his lips, his fingers into his hair, his body closer, a slow slide into the pleasure they’d both been chasing since their Friday night encounter.
They kissed for what felt like days, taking turns exploring, Blaine seemingly after every corner of his mouth, learning how much Wags loved the brush of tongues, and Wags learning that Blaine squirmed in his lap when he sucked and nipped on his bottom lip. Eager to feel more of his hard body, Wags coasted his hands down Blaine’s sides and over his arse, hauling him closer.
“Fuck,” Blaine cursed. “I want to rub my dick all over you, but I can feel yours beneath me, and all I want to do is ride it.” He whined into the crook of Wags’s neck as he struggled to do both. “We are wearing entirely too much clothing.”
Wags laughed, the struggle real for him too. “I haven’t had sex in over a year. I may come before we even get out of said clothing.”
Blaine jerked back, holding his gaze, assessing the truth of his statement. He must have liked what he saw because he threw back his head and laughed. Wags’s cheeks heated, but the truth was the truth. And he was less bothered by the laughter when it sounded equal parts charmed and amused. It eased the last of the tension and sadness from before. Brought them back to the alley, to the car, to the church office. Each time they’d been interrupted, but no more. Resolve shone in Blaine’s dark eyes, all of it directed at Wags.
“I’m going to make a mess of you,” Blaine declared.
Reluctantly letting go of Blaine but more than eager for what those words promised, Wags flicked open several more shirt buttons, then reclined onto his elbows, offering himself to the man still spread across his lap. “Do your worst.”
Blaine’s eyes blazed. “Jesus, fuck, you’re hot.” He planted one hand on Wags’s chest, fingers tangling in his chest hair, and reached down to his own fly with the other, unzipping his jeans and pulling out his thick cock. Wags thrust up, unable to stop the inevitable, and Blaine countered, dragging along the ridge of Wags’s cock as he stroked himself. “That’s it, baby. Give me something to ride.”
Wags kept rolling his hips, watching raptly as Blaine stroked himself, cock rock-hard and glistening with precome. Wags licked his lips. “I want that inside me.”
“Mouth or ass?”
“Arse,” Wags didn’t hesitate to answer, desire zipping down his spine, his hole clenching harder than it had in the car earlier.
Blaine’s fist moved faster. “What if I come all over these fancy clothes first?”
“Yes,” he groaned. He wanted that too, wanted that messy, complete and utter abandon. The clothes weren’t his anyway.
“You gonna show up at the airport in come-crusted clothes?”
Shifting onto one elbow, Wags stretched his other arm down and covered Blaine’s fist, stroking him together. “Yes.” He thrust up, hard. “Come for me.”
Blaine groaned and quaked atop him, warm come spurting between their fingers and over Wags’s borrowed pants and shirt.
Inside his boxers too.
Blaine stared down at him with lust-drunk eyes. “Did you make a mess?”
In answer, Wags lifted his come-sticky hand to his mouth, sucking one finger at a time, then licking between the digits.
“Hotter still,” Blaine hummed, then offered his own hand, which Wags cleaned greedily, watching Blaine’s cock harden again with each lick.
His own too, remarkably.
“Let’s make more of one,” Blaine said with a grin before rising to his knees and shifting backward, taking Wags’s pants and sticky boxers with him as he scooted off the end of the bed. “Ditch the shirt,” he said. “And get a pillow under those hips.”
His come-and-spit-slick fingers slipped a couple of times on the rest of the buttons, but by the time Blaine finished undressing himself and retrieving condoms and lube from his bag, Wags was naked, his hips elevated, all his junk on display.
To Blaine’s delight, judging by the feral grin that lit his face. He climbed onto the bed between Wags’s legs and, hands on the insides of his thighs, spread them wider, his mouth hovering above his groin, his warm breath utter torture. “Fuck, you’re a mess already.” He licked the leftover come from the crease of his thigh, and Wags moaned. Collapsed the rest of the way onto his back and arched his neck, digging his head into the pillows as he begged for more. Blaine licked up the other crease. “You taste fucking amazing too.”
“Fuck, Blaine, please.”
Still maddeningly avoiding his cock, Blaine trailed his tongue down the seam of his balls, along his taint, then around his rim, teasing his hole. “I’ve gotta get this good and ready first, and then I’m gonna take you rough.” He shoved a finger inside him, the intrusion sudden and painful and perfect. “Like you want it.”
“Yes.” Wags bore down on the finger and repeated his plea. “More, please.”
“Okay, Teddy, I’ve got you.”
Wags trusted that he did, same as Blaine had trusted him earlier, and just as Wags had taken care of him then, gotten him out of that church alive and to safety, Blaine did the same for him now.
By finally taking his cock into his mouth, all the way to the back of his throat, and swallowing around the tip. Making Wags shout. Licking and sucking his length with zero restraint. Giving his balls attention too, rolling them in his mouth, then palming them. Teasing and stretching his hole, three slick fingers pounding inside him while he sucked his cock, setting a relentless pace until Wags came down his throat with another shout.
