Now Comes the Dark (Basic Instincts #1)

Chapter Five

The Morning After

In the morning, Roman was gently wakened by a firm hand caressing his abdomen from behind. He lay on his side in the luxurious bed with his back pressed against Mallon’s chest. Mallon’s warm lips brushed his neck. Roman moaned to let his lover know he was awake. Without further promoting, Mallon’s hand moved lower to grasp Roman’s cock. He squeezed the hard shaft before moving to the tip and rubbing his thumb over the folds of foreskin, which were already wet with pre-cum.

Roman sighed and rolled onto his back. It was all the encouragement the older man needed. He moved between Roman’s legs and lifted his hips until they were in his lap. When Mallon’s cock bounced against his arse, Roman adjusted position, finding the head with his hole and pushing downwards. Mallon slipped in effortlessly, and they were joined again. It was a steady morning fuck. Roman ground his hips upon Mallon, watching his face for signs of orgasm. When Mallon’s brow furrowed and his lips tightened, Roman gripped his own cock. All it took was a gentle touch, and he timed it perfectly, splattering his belly with cum while Mallon filled his insides.

They collapsed side by side afterwards, smiling as they caught their breaths. Roman squeezed his arse, loving the used, wet feel of his usually tight hole. He reached between his thighs to touch it, loving how warm it was and slightly sore. Some of Mallon’s cum leaked onto his fingers as he touched it.

“I’m glad I found you,” Mallon said, gazing at the ceiling, one arm flung behind his head. “You must be the best bottom in Blyham.”

Roman laughed. “I think a lot of men would lay claim to that crown and be highly offended to know you said otherwise.” He rolled onto his side and propped himself on an elbow, to better look at him. “We’re a good fit. I think that’s what made it work so well.”

He ran his hand across Mallon’s chest and stomach. Like Roman, he had manscaped his body hair to a light coating. He even had a neat pubic bush—a rare find in an era of fully shaven groins. Roman let his hand drift lower, grazing his fingertips across Mallon’s softening cock. The fine skin was still sticky from his arse. Mallon was circumcised. Roman hadn’t encountered many men who were cut, but Mallon’s was neater and better done than the others he had seen. He traced his finger around the head. Mallon jerked involuntarily.

“Sorry,” Roman said, drawing away.

“It’s sensitive, that’s all.” Mallon’s eyes were closed, his face still turned to the ceiling.

Roman squinted at his watch in the dull light. It was nearly eleven. Later than he’d thought, but then again, when had they fallen asleep? It must have been close to five, if not later. After fucking him on the sofa, they had finished their drinks before coming into the bedroom, where Mallon’s had eaten his arse all over again before fucking him face down.

No wonder my hole is leaking. He’s left three loads in there.

“Will you be here for long?” he asked. “In Blyham, I mean.”

“Not this time. I’m leaving tomorrow.” He rolled over to look at his watch on the bedside. “We need to move. I have work to do.” He leapt out of bed and bounded to the window, pulling open the curtains, giving Roman a nice view of his chunky arse.

Roman hid his disappointment at the news. He’d have liked the chance to test his theory about Mallon’s rimming skills by burying his face in there and seeing how much he liked it. “Do you mind if I use your shower before I leave?”

“Go ahead. You know where it is. I’ll order breakfast. Coffee? Croissants?”

“Tea, please…if that’s okay.”

Mallon didn’t even look at him as he strode naked into the living room and picked up the phone.

Oh, well. At least I got to spend the night . Mallon wasn’t one of those guys who couldn’t wait to run once they’d shot their load.

The shower was filled with expensive bottles of shampoo and body wash. Roman took his time beneath the powerful jets, washing his hair and cleaning the cum from his stomach and butt crack. It was only then that he noticed the pain in his abdomen and lower back and as he looked closer, he saw the flesh was already blooming into dark blue and purple bruises. He had been so turned by sex with Mallon that he’d completely forgotten about the attack. Jesus . Those bastards had hit him hard to cause such damage. Adrenaline must have dulled the worst of the pain.

He dried off carefully and helped himself to Mallon’s deodorant—another expensive-smelling brand he did not recognise.

Mallon was sitting on the sofa in a white robe when Roman came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. He searched the room for his clothes, which had been discarded in a passionate rush. He found his shoes first then his T-shirt.

“Are you going to the police?” Mallon asked, staring at the bruises on Roman’s torso.

“There’s no point. You dealt with the problem.”

“Until they do it again. You heard what they said. They’ll be back, and the next man might not be so lucky. You should report it, at least.”

“It won’t make any difference. People have been attacked and beaten up much worse than this in the last year. Five men are dead. How many police did you see on the streets last night? None, right? Because there aren’t any. They have done sweet-fuck-all to protect the community, despite everything that’s happened. We don’t matter. We’re just a bunch of queers. They won’t do a thing to look for the men who attacked me. Nothing.”

Mallon’s brow furrowed. “Then you need to learn to fight. Boxing. Judo. Take up some kind of self-defence so you can retaliate next time.”

“I don’t think there will be a next time. From now on, I won’t be so stupid as to walk around alone at night.”

Mallon’s mouth turned down. “You will. You’ll forget your fear in a week, maybe two, and you’ll find yourself in the same situation, wandering around, putting your life at risk to find another dick.”

* * * *

After their quick breakfast, Mallon made it clear that it was time for Roman to go.

He had managed to discover that Mallon lived in Lyon, France, but not the nature of his business in Blyham.

“Will you be back here soon?” he asked, unable to keep the note of hopeful desperation from his voice as Mallon edged him towards the door.

Mallon shrugged. “It’s likely.”

“How soon?”

“I have no idea. I travel a lot, rarely with much notice.”

“Would you like to exchange numbers? So we can keep in touch?”

Mallon shook his head. “Not a good idea.”

His words stung, but Roman hid the hurt behind a plastered smile. “That’s cool.”

“Maybe we’ll run into each other another time, but I don’t like to make promises or commit myself.” He opened the door.

Time’s up .

“I hope we do,” Roman stalled. “It was great meeting you. Well, more than great. I owe you a lot.”

Mallon’s face clouded with impatience. “Yes. Now, I really do have work.”

Roman realised the French man had no intention of kissing him, so leaned in fast and pressed his lips to Mallon’s closed mouth.

At last Mallon smiled. “You’re a handful, you know? You’re a lovely boy. I hope you find who you are looking for. In the meantime, be careful. Now that you know how dangerous it is out there, don’t get caught again.”

The door closed behind him. Regret consumed Roman all the way to the elevator. He might never see this man again. What a shame . Mallon was perfect for him in every way. Aloof, sure, and closed off, but damn, he was a sexy fucker . Roman might spend the rest of the year comparing every man he met to Mallon. He doubted anyone would fuck him that good again. After so many hollow sexual encounters, he’d finally experienced a deeper, more primal connection…with a man who lived in another country and was going home tomorrow.

By the time he reached the lobby, his regret had turned to gratitude. He might not see Mallon again, but they had shared a special night. Roman wouldn’t forget it in a hurry. He couldn’t say that about many of his hook-ups. The French man had left an indelible mark on his psyche.

It was a decent morning when he came out of the hotel. The sky was filled with low, grey clouds, but it was mild for the time of year. He decided to save some cash and walk home, setting out along the waterfront. It was approaching midday, and the bars and restaurants were open, geared up for their busy Saturday trade. In another hour they would be filled with the stag and hen parties that flocked to Blyham each weekend, tottering from venue to venue in their bridal veils, drinking cocktails through penis-shaped straws. Many of the loftier establishments refused entry to the party crowds, but there were enough places willing to accept them and the chaos they brought to keep them coming to the city. Roman avoided the area at the weekend, but it was early enough for him to feel safe.

He was at less risk here than the supposed secure haven of the village these days.

Since his rescue by Mallon, he’d given little thought to what had happened. Mallon had made him feel safe, protected then desired. There was nothing to fear when they were together. He wondered if the anger would hit him later. Maybe Mallon was right, and he should report the incident to the cops.

He doubted they would do much, other than add it to their statistic sheet, but maybe that was better than nothing. The more attacks that were reported, the more obvious the problem would become, so obvious they might get their fingers out of their arses and do something to protect the community.

Fat fucking chance .

If nothing else, his report might inconvenience some police officer for half an hour. That alone must make it worth doing.

Gazing at the terraces of the café bars, he imagined what it would be like to sit there and enjoy a waterfront brunch or a drink with Mallon—like a scene from a glamourous movie, not a romcom. Mallon was far too serious for that. A sexy drama, or an intense thriller… They could be undercover agents…or men from different sides meeting to exchange information.

He smiled as he walked. Mallon was having an odd effect on him. Roman didn’t romanticise the man he slept with. In most cases he didn’t give them another thought. Why should Mallon be different? He’d struck at something deep within him.

Even deeper than his cock had gone .

Roman’s grin widened farther. He’d been reluctant to take that shower earlier. He’d have liked to walk home with the scent of Mallon still on him, but he’d sweated so much with every fuck, he would stink too bad. If he squeezed his hole, it was easy to remember the feel of him in there. His arse was still tender and a little loose after all that action, and he had three loads of cum up there. Mallon’s cum.

When he got home, he could lie back and finger himself, unleashing some of that sperm. He could have a wank while the memory of the man was fresh, like he hadn’t had enough sex already.

I doubt I’d ever have enough of him .

Roman realised he was completely smitten. It was a good thing that Mallon was going away, because if he stayed, the temptation to pursue him and do it all again would be too great. He would no longer be a rational man, just someone ruled by his cock and his hole.

On the dangerous streets of Blyham, that was not a good prospect.