Warm Heart

by Amy Lane

  Mallory settled the suitcase in the corner of the room and turned to him. “Sore feet?”

  Tevyn kicked off the damned shoes and grunted. “Why are you still dressed?”

  “Because I’m an old-fashioned sort of guy,” Mallory said primly. “I thought, you know, a kiss first?”

  Tevyn wanted him naked—all ninety-eight pounds of him at this point, but he wanted it bare, smooth-skinned, knotty-muscled, yielding flesh under his palms.

  He came to a halt in front of Mal and reached up to cup his neck. “Fine. Kiss first. C’mere.”

  Mallory hesitated, and Tevyn could discern the slightest tremble in him. “Don’t worry, Mal. I’ll treat you real fine.”

  Mallory closed his eyes—those pretty brown eyes, so sharp and assessing, lively and questing—he closed them and let Tevyn take over.

  Tevyn took his mouth first, hard and no bullshit, so Mallory knew he meant business. Then he stroked his neck, his shoulders, ran his hand over his chest through his clothes.

  “How warm do you think it is in here?” he murmured in Mallory’s ear. “Seventy degrees, you reckon?”

  “Practically a sauna,” Mal answered, and Tevyn bit his earlobe as a reward.

  “Mm….” He let go. “You are wearing too many clothes. Take them off.”

  Mallory’s fingers went to the zipper of his hoodie first, and Tevyn helped slide it off his shoulders, where he dropped it on the ground. Mallory Armstrong, who folded all his clothes into little tiny units, let it lie there in a puddle while Tevyn grazed his collarbones with tender lips, laid bare to the edge of his polo shirt.

  “Mal?” Tevyn rucked the shirt up and splayed his hand across Mallory’s lean stomach.

  “Mm? Ah!” The gasp was when Tev went for the nipple, scraping the pad of his thumb across it first.

  “I know we’ve been wearing six layers of clothing, so you might be confused.” He pinched the nipple this time, just to hear Mallory whimper. “But this isn’t naked.”

  Mallory fumbled with the hem of his shirt, and Tevyn helped him haul it overhead. Ah! His chest. He had a layer of dark hair down the middle, leading to his happy trail, made more notable by the pale skin. Tevyn closed his mouth over a pink nipple and suckled, welcoming Mal’s clenched fingers in his hair. He sucked again, and harder, then scraped his teeth delicately across. Mallory put his hands on Tevyn’s shoulders and held on for dear life.

  “Knees going,” he whispered, and Tevyn pulled away with the intention of leading him to the bed, but Mallory fell to his knees instead, hands on Tevyn’s hips, tugging at the Wranglers that were a size too big and needed a belt.

  The Deadpool underwear went off with the Wranglers, and Tevyn was suddenly, aggressively naked. His cock flopped down, halfway hard and filling, and Mallory moaned.

  “Yeah?” Tevyn grabbed his shirts at the shoulder and hauled them over his head, shuddering as Mallory stroked his erection.

  “Tevyn!” The awe in Mallory’s voice was both satisfying and embarrassing.

  “More than a growing boy needs, right?” He knew he was large, particularly for someone not tall or bulky.

  “It’s beautiful.” Mallory’s breath tickled his head. His tongue, on the other hand, licking across the head, didn’t tickle at all.

  It was Tevyn’s turn to close his eyes, to feel the rough silk of Mallory’s hair between his fingers. Mallory stroked him with a firm hand and licked with enthusiasm, making happy humming noises in his throat as he explored. He lowered his head slightly and took one of Tevyn’s balls in his mouth, carefully, tugging gently before letting it go. Tevyn shuddered and urged him to take the other one, the touch of his lips, his tongue, just right.

  His erection ached, and the coil in the pit of his stomach wound painfully tight. He pulled on Mallory’s hair until Mallory backed off.

  “I want to make love to you,” he whispered. “I want to take you in the best way. Come on, Mal. Bed.”

  He gave Mallory a hand up and steadied him when he overbalanced. “I, uh, need my shaving kit,” Mallory mumbled, and even with the lights off, Tevyn could see the blush.

  “Go get the lubricant,” Tevyn told him, coming up behind Mallory as he stood so he could undo Mal’s belt and fly. “But we don’t need the rubbers. I know your status, and I made damned sure you know mine.”

  Mallory paused in the act of fishing something out of his suitcase. “That’s… that’s monogamy, Tevyn. You know that. That’s commitment.”

  Tevyn shoved at Mallory’s pants and boxers, humming as bare skin was exposed. “Yeah, I know.”

  Mallory didn’t move—seemed, in fact, to be catching his breath—until Tevyn wrapped his arms around Mallory’s waist and ground his nakedness up against Mal’s bare backside. “I don’t want anything less. You?”

  Mallory turned and fumbled for his hand, pushing the small bottle into it. At least the thing was full. “No. You know… making sure.”

  Tevyn kissed him again, tasting the salt of his own precum. The stakes were higher now because Mallory’s mouth had been on him, had taken him in. Mallory was already his. He just didn’t feel it yet.

  “C’mon, Mal. I’ll take really good care of you.”

  Mallory allowed himself to be kissed backward to the bed, then pulled away to strip the covers down. “I thought it was my job to take care of you,” he said wistfully.

  “You did,” Tevyn told him, sliding into bed. Ah! God! Those nights in his arms, separated by the clothing, the fear—this was Mallory’s skin all over his, and he gloried in it, wanting to scent mark Mallory’s body like a cat. “You took care of us every day. You kept us talking, kept us happy. You tended the fire, made Damien laugh. You put one foot in front of the other when I know you didn’t have a damned thing left in you, because you knew we wouldn’t leave you behind. You’ve taken care of me and my grandmother for five years, when I was too young and too stupid to know how to make you mine. It’s my turn, Mallory Armstrong. It’s my turn to take care of you. It’s my turn to show you I can make you mine.”

  He rolled then, on top of Mallory’s long, lean body, because he knew Mal could bear his weight. He started out kissing his mouth but didn’t stay there long. Mallory’s jaw, his neck, his collarbone, he nipped and nuzzled each place, knowing his short beard and sharp love bites would leave marks, and not caring. Mallory’s noises got louder, more frequent, more desperate as Tevyn went, and Tevyn let him.

  There was nobody here but the two of them. Mallory could scream obscenities, could sob, could come, and it would be just them, their bare bodies, and this bed.

  Tevyn sucked his nipples again, harder, leaving marks on his chest, downward. He sucked on the soft skin of Mallory’s concave stomach, ignoring Mal’s breathless protests because most of them boiled down to “Oh God, please!”

  Tevyn pleased very much to give Mallory Armstrong pleasure.

  When he got to Mallory’s straining, dripping erection, Tevyn pleased very much indeed.

  “Lookit you,” he whispered, before taking it into his mouth. Mallory was very long, if not as thick as Tevyn. Tevyn would ride it someday, sliding down its length until he straddled Mal completely, and the thought made him tingle everywhere, in particular his entrance. He had no problem being penetrated, but damn.

  With Mallory, he wanted to do the owning.

  People all over the world wanted a piece of Tevyn Moore, wanted to have a claim to a part of him—his logo, his talent, his body. But only Mallory had ever cared for him, taken care of him, and Tevyn wanted Mallory all to himself.

  Mallory’s wordless cries had settled into a long moan of arousal, and as Tevyn took him to the back of his throat, he swallowed the moan and tried words again. “Tev, gonna come—too soon—”

  Tevyn pulled back and stroked him, hard and sure. “You think this thing is over when you come?” he asked, spitting on two fingers of his free hand. “You think I won’t take you, fuck you, pound you into the mattress because you had one orgasm?”


  Mallory made a strangled sound between a laugh and a groan and a gasp. “I am so loud!” he complained.

  “Yeah,” Tevyn said, licking the head of Mallory’s dick just to hear him make more noise. “And every sound you make is ‘Tevyn, do me more. Do me harder. Do me until I scream.’” He deep-throated again to feel the head against his throat, to feel the veins under his lips as he pulled back, to hear the glorious sound—between a grunt and a groan—that Mallory emitted when he did.

  He did it again, but this time he fingered Mallory’s entrance and was delighted when Mallory sucked in a breath and held it.

  “Mal?” he whispered, wiggling his finger, stretching at that tight ring of muscle until Mallory quivered.

  “Wha?”

  “You have to breathe. You have to relax. This won’t hurt if you relax.”

  “But… oh… I’m not sure… oh my God… oh… oh!”

  Tevyn kept stretching—and kept sucking Mallory’s hard cock as well. Every wiggle of his fingers amped Mallory up a notch, every swipe of his tongue pulled his string tighter.

  But he was clenching, and that was no good either.

  “Push,” he whispered. “Push against me. Push—whoa! Yes!” Both fingers slid in to the hilt just as he bottomed out with Mallory’s cock, swallowing against it in the back of his throat. Mallory’s erection wept, bitter and salty, into his mouth, and the taste was the only drug Tevyn had ever craved.

  Mallory gave a short, hot spurt into Tevyn’s mouth, and Tevyn scissored his fingers.

  And that did it. Mallory shouted—actually shouted—pouring his orgasm into Tevyn’s throat as Tevyn swallowed happily.

  His. Mallory was his.

  “Oh…,” Mallory breathed, going limp. His clench around Tevyn’s fingers softened, and Tevyn figured he was about ready. He reached for the lubricant next to Mal’s hip and dumped some on his fingers, then spread it around Mallory’s despoiled entrance and stretched him some more.

  Mallory’s next noise was curious—and aroused.

  “I want to be inside you, Mal. Please tell me you want that too.”

  Mallory looked stoned—stoned and sleepy, his eyes at half-mast, his body sprawled beyond his control. But at Tevyn’s words, his eyes snapped open and his mouth parted ever so slightly.

  “Yeah, Tevyn. Please. I need you inside me so bad.”

  Tevyn squirted some more slick and oiled his cock with it before pushing himself up the bed. “Spread your legs, baby, bent at the knees. That’s right. I want to see your face here. I need to see you love me.”

  He hadn’t meant to say that—oh God. The words. The big scary words that could ruin any sex. But Mallory was a man, and men didn’t run away.

  “Of course I love you,” Mallory said in wonder. “Of course I do… oh… oh yes.”

  Tevyn pushed forward, slowly, waiting for Mallory to expand around him. He did, his body growing more lax, more accommodating with every millimeter. Tevyn’s head popped in and Mallory let out a low “Whooa!” which acted as encouragement. Slowly, waiting to see if it was okay, Tevyn claimed his lover’s body, felt his heat take over their joining, warmed himself in the glory of Mallory Armstrong’s sex.

  Finally he was seated completely, kissing Mallory’s sweaty forehead, breathing softly on his temple. “You good?”

  “I’ve never… oh yes. Yes, it’s good. It’s so good. Move? Move, Tev. I really need you to—yes!”

  Never done this before? Yes, he’d said as much, but he was made for this. Tevyn started to thrust, in and out, the timeless dance of the male body. Mallory’s ass clenched so tightly around him that it felt like a fist, a beautiful milking fist, taking everything Tevyn was made to give.

  He kept thrusting, listening to the music of Mallory’s desire grow steadily louder, more breathless. Mallory clung to his shoulders, to his biceps, his brown eyes big and surprised, his pupils blown with passion, his face open and vulnerable, showing every moment of pleasure, every moment of doubt.

  Tevyn kept fucking until the doubt was scoured from his heart, until the pleasure took control of him, opened him up for Tevyn’s plunder.

  His eyes went to half-mast then, his mouth opened slackly, and the steadily rising pleasure noises became all one sound.

  “Yes,” Mallory begged. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

  Tevyn shuddered and picked up his pace, angling himself so he’d pass… right… there with every thrust, that place right there, that made Mal’s hands tighten on his shoulders, that made his voice deepen.

  “Oh my God, Tevyn—yes!”

  Again and again and again—oh hells, Tevyn wanted to do this forever, wanted this steadily escalating searing pleasure to ride his synapses until there was nothing else but Tevyn buried inside his lover, not cock in ass, but heart in heart.

  But bodies are fallible, need release, and Tevyn’s orgasm was sweeping up his spine, inevitable, glorious.

  “You ready?” he asked Mallory. “You ready? I’m going to come. Inside you, Mal. Forever and ever.”

  Mal let out a low groan, and his arms went limp as every other muscle convulsed. Oh wow—Tevyn could feel him spurting again, hot and slick between them, not even a hand on his erection as Tevyn rose to his own peak.

  “So good,” Mallory whispered, spent. He raised his hands to Tevyn’s chest and pinched his nipples, and that was all Tevyn needed, a little encouragement, a little extra bite.

  He went pitching off the climax cliff with a turbo burst of desire, burying his face against Mal’s throat and roaring in release.

  Mallory cried out again and Tevyn bit his shoulder—hard—as his orgasm rocked his body, his heart, the foundations of his world.

  When he came to, he was still buried in Mallory’s ass, and Mallory’s arms were up around his shoulders, holding him tight.

  Comforting him, maybe, comforting them both, because that thing they had just done was bigger than sex, mightier. If Tevyn hadn’t wanted it so bad, hadn’t committed to making Mallory his from the very beginning, it might even have been terrifying.

  As it was, he licked the bruised spot on Mallory’s shoulder, being tender now that the mark was there.

  “Love you, Mallory. Love you so much.”

  “Love you back,” Mallory whispered. “I’m… I’m lost.”

  Tevyn moved a little, fucking him some more even as his spent member grew smaller.

  “I’m here. Inside you. Every day. Remember that, when we have to be apart, okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Promise me.” Tevyn pulled back and made sure Mallory could see his eyes. “You have to promise me that I’ll be inside you, in your heart, all the time.”

  Mallory searched his face, seeing far too much, probably, about what Tevyn didn’t want to admit. “You’ll always be inside me, Tev. You haven’t left. Not in five years. You think I’ll ever forget you after this?”

  “Good,” Tevyn growled, taking his mouth.

  Mallory gave back, because that’s what he did.

  Tevyn could only hope he’d given enough.

  A Thousand Miles

  MALLORY usually woke up all together, in one whole piece. At home, he rolled out of bed and went straight to the bathroom to brush his teeth, take his shower, and begin his day.

  He woke up in the darkened hotel room slowly, trying to put things together in his head, but not everything fit.

  Except maybe Tevyn’s body, lodged solidly in Mallory’s own.

  They’d fallen asleep that way after their third—fourth?—time making love.

  Mallory was covered in come. Down his backside, his thighs, his stomach, his chest, his mouth.

  Eyes still closed, Tevyn at his back, inside him and filling slowly, Mal remembered that glorious, surprising moment when he’d been sucking Tevyn’s cock and Tev had come—effortlessly, body arching in complete abandon.

  Complete trust.

  Tevyn started to pump, in and out, and Mallory gasped. “Again?”

  “Say what yo
u really want,” Tevyn whispered, reaching around to fondle his stiffening erection.

  Mallory could because Tevyn would give him what he wanted, every time. “Please,” Mallory moaned, needing him again, again, again….

  Tevyn’s slow, sensual pump inside him continued, his body stretched, exhausted, but responding anyway. “Sore?” Tevyn asked, being considerate like he had been all night.

  “No,” Mallory lied. He’d lied the last time too. Tevyn was larger than life in every area—particularly the one moving in one of Mallory’s tenderest places. But Mallory had waited so long, needed so badly. He’d lie as many times as he had to, as long as this dreamy ache continued, this haze of stretching, of pleasure so acute it passed the border to pain.

  Tevyn’s lips at the back of his neck tickled deliciously. “Good.”

  His thrusts continued, his cock growing harder and bigger as he woke up too. With a little shove at Mallory’s shoulder, Tevyn pushed him from lying on his side to sprawling facedown on the mattress, legs splayed as Tevyn took over his body one more time.

  He was so sensitized, so sensitive, by this point, that the pressure of his abdomen against the mattress was enough to pleasure his own erection, and he lay there, drowsy, lost in the dreamy sensation of being taken so often his body was comfortable with being used.

  He heard his own sex noises, vibrating against the mattress, and couldn’t seem to stop. He had no control anymore. Tevyn had taken control the first time he’d taken Mallory and had never given it back. Mallory was at his mercy, and Tevyn was kind, and considerate, and gentle—but when it came to letting Mallory get away with just lying there and taking it, he was anything but merciful.

  Responding to Tevyn’s touch was Mallory’s mission.

  Tevyn pulled out and Mallory actually whimpered at the loss.

  “Hands and knees, Mal,” Tevyn ordered softly, and Mallory went, beyond being vulnerable and on display. Tevyn’s hands, callused, tender, along his back, his flanks, his thighs, his backside, sent a quiver through his core, and he rocked backward, toward Tevyn’s groin, begging without words.