“I know,” Jory said, and Mal had to stop what he was doing and kiss him for that.
His hands were too slippery to get the condom out of the packet, so Jory got it for him and rolled it on, his touch so gentle it was bloody frustrating.
At last, at last, they were both ready. With Jory’s leg over Mal’s shoulder, Mal lined up his rock-hard dick and pushed in slow.
Sliding inside Jory was like nothing Mal had ever felt before. The electricity was back, crackling and fizzing in his veins and all over his skin. “Oh fuck, that’s good,” he gasped.
“Yes, God, yes.” Jory’s face was screwed up and so beautiful Mal could cry.
“Not hurting you, babe?”
“No, no, don’t stop . . . Ah!” His eyes flew open as Mal slid deeper.
“Was that a bad ‘Ah’ or did I find the Holy Grail?” Mal asked, worried.
“Grail. Definitely Grail.” Their eyes met, and suddenly they were laughing.
“Oi, Galahad, is that King David’s sword in your scabbard or are you just pleased to see me?” Mal grinned.
“Galahad was chaste,” Jory said with a glint in his eye. “I’m not.”
He grabbed hold of Mal’s hips and pulled, and fuck, that was it, Mal was off again, sheathing himself in Jory over and over. Jory’s dick was leaking on his stomach. Mal dragged his fingers through the little puddle of clear liquid and put them to his lips, wanting more of that deep-sea flavour. Then he bent awkwardly to kiss Jory, passing it over with his tongue.
Jory moaned and licked Mal’s lips, and that, that was not fair because then Mal had to break the kiss and just pound into him as hard and fast as he could, Jory giving him wordless cries of encouragement all the time.
He was so bloody gorgeous. Mal couldn’t believe he’d nearly let this pass him by.
“You’re mine, you got that?” he gasped, teetering on the edge.
“Yours,” Jory panted, and came.
White light exploded behind Mal’s eyes as his own orgasm slammed through him. He felt it in his balls, in his spine, in his fucking throat. Jory was still painting his stomach white with his spunk, and Mal could feel every pulse resonate with the clenching of his body.
It seemed to go on forever, and even when he stopped moving, little aftershocks thrilled through him, his nerves jingling. Mal was blinking back his vision when Jory grabbed him and pulled him down for a lingering kiss.
Mal drew away long enough to ask, “You’re gonna stay, right?”
“Always,” Jory whispered, and kissed him again.
Waking up with Jory in his bed was, like . . . Shit, Mal was useless at words this early in the morning, but it was good. Really, really good. He lay there, just watching Jory breathe. Was that romantic or creepy? Romantic, definitely. It was only creepy if you weren’t already shagging.
He couldn’t resist leaning in to plant a kiss on Jory’s shoulder. Jory snuffled into the pillow but didn’t wake up. It was cute as fuck, so Mal did it again, and then again for good measure, by which time Jory was starting to stir. And, well, his mum was always telling him, Waste not, want not, so Mal rubbed his morning stiffy against Jory’s hip. Although that probably wasn’t the sort of thing she’d had in mind.
“Morning,” Jory said, blinking and smiling.
“Morning.” Mal ground against Jory’s hip, and Jory took the hint and rolled with it. Or, more precisely, he rolled with Mal, a nifty move that ended up with Jory on top and their dicks giving each other their own morning greetings.
Mal’s dick thought it was fucking tremendous waking up with Jory’s dick. It didn’t take long before they’d made a right mess of each other.
Cos he was a gentleman, Mal felt around under the bed for the tissues and wiped them both off so they could snuggle back down together. Once he had his head on Jory’s shoulder, he could feel Jory breathing, which was even better than watching him.
“I suppose we’d better get up,” Jory said after a while, with a kiss to Mal’s head.
“Don’t wanna.”
“Realistically, how long do you think we’ve got before Tasha bangs on the door and yells something embarrassing at us?”
“Fair point. But don’t move yet.” Mal reached over to the bedside table and grabbed his phone. Lucky for him, Jory was still all shagged out and dopey, so he didn’t realise what was happening until Mal had snapped a picture.
Jory’s eyes widened, and he did flaily hands. “Okay, no. Seriously. I’m not feeling at all photogenic right now.”
“Nah, you look fucking gorgeous. Bed hair and all.” Mal showed Jory the photo.
Jory made a face like he’d just seen a pic of the prime minister, naked. “Well, if you can say that with a straight face, then at least I know you’re genuinely fond of me.”
Mal flicked to the next, which had Jory with OMG-face.
“Oh God. Please delete them.”
“Nah, I was thinking Instagram. Or Facebook. Which one are most of the people you used to work with on?”
“Give me that. Now.” Jory made a grab for the phone, but Mal was quicker, holding it out of reach until Jory, the bastard, started tickling him.
“You fucker,” Mal gasped through his laughter, as Jory wrenched the phone out of his grip. “Nah, don’t delete them. I’ll keep ’em to myself, I swear.”
Jory sent him a deeply suspicious look, but handed the phone back. “But just for that, I’m taking one of you.” He grabbed his own phone, which had been snuggled up to Mal’s all night.
“Sure thing, babe.” Mal lay back with his hands behind his head and pouted for the camera.
Jory laughed. “Do you have any shame?”
“Nope. None at all. Well, maybe a bit. I draw the line at dick pics. At least, not until Mr. Frisky’s feeling a bit more, well, frisky again.”
“‘Mr. Frisky’?”
“Shut it. I could have called it Excalibur, you know.”
“Not if you ever wanted anyone to take you seriously
