Chapter Twelve
A Treat for Mallon
Mallon opened the door in just a pair of dark trousers and a white shirt, open to the chest. He was barefoot and looked hotter than the Sahara. He grabbed Roman by his jacket and hauled him inside, going straight for a deep, opened-mouthed kiss. Roman wrapped his arms around his strong back and responded, pushing his body against Mallon.
They parted breathlessly.
“Nice welcome,” Roman said.
Mallon closed and locked the door.
Roman put down his overnight bag and had just removed his jacket when Mallon grabbed him from behind and ground his hard cock against his butt. He slid his hands beneath Roman’s sweater, caressing his bare abdomen. He nuzzled his earlobe with his mouth.
“I’m hungry,” Mallon said, “for you.”
Roman raised his arms as Mallon pulled the sweater over his head. He wore a white T-shirt underneath, which came off, too. Mallon hugged him tight, his hands going straight to Roman’s chest. His nipples were already hard from the sub-zero temperature outside. Mallon murmured appreciatively, squeezing and stretching the tips between his thumbs and fingers. He pressed his moist lips against Roman’s neck, and when he shivered, it had nothing to do with the cold.
All Roman’s anxieties about work, about Ashley and Patrick, were forgotten as Mallon became the only important thing in his world.
“I’ve got something to show you,” Roman said, arching backwards as Mallon gently nipped his shoulder with his teeth.
Mallon hands slipped all over his torso, exploring his chest, belly, his flank. Stroking, caressing. “What is it?”
“Something I think you’ll like.”
“Don’t tease. Show me.”
“Take a seat.”
Mallon kissed his neck again, before picking up his drink and carrying it to the longue area. He sat on the sofa. The bulge of his cock was obvious in his dark trousers.
Roman took his time, unfastening his boots and removing his thick socks. He wore another lighter pair underneath. He rose slowly, taking his time, drawing it out. Mallon’s eyes followed every move he made, seemingly entranced. Roman savoured the power. He knew exactly what Mallon wanted, what buttons to press to turn him on. He unbuckled his belt, then the top button of his jeans. The second, then the third. He heard the quickening of Mallon’s breath. He took a slow sip of red wine, keeping his eyes fixed on Roman.
Roman unbuttoned his jeans all the way and turned around. He paused, drawing it out before making the reveal. His own pulse was racing. He knew the impact this would have on his lover and what would follow. He pushed his jeans over his arse, exposing what was underneath.
He had bought the underpants two years before when he’d been in an especially horny mood and had only worn them once since—a pair of tight-fitting black trunks with a huge panel missing from the back that exposed his arse entirely. He’d seen loads of guys wear similar outfits while they cruised the arches at The Viaduct, but Roman had never felt that comfortable wearing them. When he’d tried them on at home, they had seemed kind of silly. But now, with an appreciative audience, he felt hot and empowered. He let his jeans rest at midthigh, and ran both hands over his buttocks, thrilling to the touch of bare, exposed skin.
Mallon released a deep groan. “Take the jeans off.”
Roman shucked them to his ankles and hauled them off, standing before Mallon in just his socks and backless pants, exposing his juicy arse. “Do you like them?”
“Very much. Walk around the table. Let me see how your ass moves in them.”
Roman obeyed, circling the coffee table. The front of the trunks swelled with his erection, but that wasn’t what interested Mallon. He was a pure arse-man, and Roman gave him exactly what he wanted. Despite his lean build, his arse was oversized and out of proportion. The trunks only accentuated that further. Mallon chewed his bottom lips and stroked his cock while his eyes were glued to every move Roman made.
“You have more like this?” Mallon asked.
Roman shook his head. “Just a couple of jockstraps.”
“I will buy you more. You shouldn’t wear anything other than pants like this. Your arse should always be on display…always ready.”
He chuckled. “I think they might have something to say about that at the office.”
“Then they are idiots. Your ass is beautiful. These pants give it the justice it deserves.”
Roman moved closer to him on each circuit of the table. Mallon stiffened and leaned forward, and as Roman came around again, he held out a hand to stop him. Roman didn’t need to be told what to do next. He turned, presenting his butt, pressing it inches from Mallon’s face. He heard Mallon take a deep inhalation and mutter something in French he didn’t understand.
Then Mallon’s hands were on his waist, pulling him closer. His breath was hot against Roman’s buttocks, his nose brushed against the crack. Roman widened his feet, strengthening his posture. He put his hands on his thighs and pressed backwards. Mallon grabbed him, and with an animalistic groan, he buried his face in the crevice, his talented tongue going straight for the prize.
He ate Roman’s hole till it was wet and ready, before standing up and pushing him face down onto the sofa. Mallon pulled a sachet of lube from his pocket and tore into it, before fingering Roman’s hole, preparing the deeper passage. Then he was on top of him. Roman bore the weight on his back as Mallon shoved his trousers down and guided his sticky dick to the opening. He lined it up and shoved in. They groaned together. Roman gritted his teeth in pleasure as Mallon stretched and filled him. He would never get tired of this. There was an urgent need in both of them. They bucked and pushed against each other, both grinding and urging the other to fuck harder and take it deeper. There was a cushion right beneath Roman’s hips, and he rubbed his cock against it as Mallon pounded him from behind.
Mallon’s breath hissed in his ear. “Going to come.”
His fucking became more erratic. Roman thrust faster against the cushion. Their cries reached a crescendo, and they came together. As Mallon came inside Roman, Roman shot into the front of his briefs, filling them with his hot load.
“Wow,” he gasped afterwards. Mallon remained inside him; his breath rasped against the side of Roman’s head.
“Exactly,” Mallon groaned and laughed. “I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day.”
“You have?” Roman was surprised to hear Mallon thought about him at all when they were apart.
“I woke up this morning after having had a dream about you. A hot dream. Your ass has been on my mind ever since. It’s been quite a distraction.” He eased back gently, withdrawing.
Roman rose onto his knees. Mallon sat on the sofa with his trousers around his ankles, his cock glistening and semi-hard. He reached for the glass of wine and took a sip, gasping afterwards.
“The bottle is open on the counter,” Mallon said. “Help yourself.”
“I will. I’ll just clean up first.”
Roman grabbed his clothes and his bag and went to the bathroom. As well as a change of clothes so he could go straight to work in the morning, he’d brought some toiletries and a couple of spare sets of underwear. He took off the backless pants, which were now soiled with cum, and wiped himself down.
Mallon had pulled up his trousers and fastened his shirt when Roman returned to the main room. He poured a glass of wine and joined him on the sofa. He checked the time. Nine-thirty .
“Have you eaten?” he asked.
“Had something at the office this afternoon. You?”
Roman hadn’t touched the pasta he’d reheated for dinner. He’d been too pissed off with Ashley to eat then. “I’m starving.”
Mallon picked up his phone. “I’ll order a takeaway, though it’s probably too late to get something decent.”
“Don’t go to any trouble.”
“What do you like?”
“Nothing you’ll approve of, I’m sure. Pizza. Burgers. Curry. Chinese food. Fish and chips. I’ll eat anything.”
Mallon grimaced, scrolling through his phone. “Pizza is the least horrible of those options.”
Roman laughed and leaned into him. “If I’d known I was coming over, I would have picked up food at the supermarket. I’m not the greatest cook, but I can do something special with a couple of chicken breasts—nothing fancy like you’re used to, but better than a takeaway.”
Mallon kissed the top of his head. “You think I’m a snob.”
“I never said that.”
“You don’t have to say it. I know you do. It’s okay. I am a snob about certain things. I’m not ashamed of it. Who would be proud of having horrendous taste, anyway? Ham and cheese okay for the pizza?”
Roman’s favourite was chicken and mushrooms, but he suspected that might tip Mallon over the edge. “Whatever suits you is good for me.”
Mallon tapped in the order and put down the phone. Unlike most people he knew, Mallon did not seem obsessed with his phone or social media. He only used it for calls or practical tasks like ordering food. It made a refreshing change. Roman had known men who made no secret of looking for their next hook-up while they were still with him.
This was more than a hook-up. Hook-ups were quick and casual. They didn’t give you drinks or take you for breakfast or order pizza. So what is this, exactly? Roman wasn’t sure. Too early to put a label on it . He should enjoy these moments for what they were and not build up his expectations.
“How was work?” he asked.
Mallon tutted. “No work talk. I’ve been at it all day and will be there again tomorrow. This is time to relax.”
“Okay. Fair point. What do you do to relax?”
“I fuck you,” Mallon said, playfully squeezing him.
“Apart from that. You must like doing something.”
“I like all kinds of things. I go to bootcamp at six a.m. twice a week.”
“That sounds like the opposite of relaxing.”
“I like swimming, boxing. I’m interested in history.” He gestured at two books on the coffee table. “After what you said the other day about Blyham, I decided I should know more. One book is the history of the city, and the other is a history of the northeast area. There’s even a small chapter on your hometown. Nyemouth, right? I read about it last night.”
“That can’t have taken long,” Roman said. “There’s nothing there.”
“It looks wonderful to me. I plan to visit while I’m here—maybe in the spring, when it’s warmer.”
“Oh, God yes. That place is bleak in winter. Best avoided.” He snuggled in, catching on something Mallon just said. “Spring. So, you intend to still be here?”
“I should be here for most of the year, at least. This project won’t get done overnight.”
Roman smiled. “I hope you won’t get tired of fucking me if you’re staying that long.”
Mallon hugged him tight. “Are you kidding? With that ass, I won’t ever get tired of fucking you.”
Roman flushed with pleasure. “How about we get together this weekend? I’ve got some more underwear you might like to see.”
Mallon put his arm around him and squeezed his shoulder. “I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m going home on Friday. I won’t be back for at least a week.”
Roman hid his disappointment. It wouldn’t do to look too clingy. “Maybe next week, then?”
Mallon pulled him closer. His mouth was on top of Roman’s and when he whispered, his breath was hot and exciting. “No need to wait so long. What are you doing on Thursday night? I have an idea that just might turn you on.”