PAUL NIPS AT ALEX’S lower lip. “You good?” he whispers. Alex is so damn lost to it. A frantic nod and a whimper before Alex wraps his hand tightly around Paul’s d**k is all he gets in response.
Paul lets his head fall back against the chair, drops the now-empty glass out of his hand onto the carpet, and lets Alex drive until Paul comes all over the both of them.
“Hold on to me,” he says once he’s caught his breath. Alex is still shifting, restless and desperate over him.
With an arm under Alex’s a*s and another across his back, Paul gets them to the bed, barely. It’s only a few steps, and he is happy to leave Alex’s a*s hanging off the edge, his legs in the air. Paul kneels again — there’s something about Alex that just does that to him — and this time licks over his hole.
Alex whines
