Jay fucking loved that too.
He kept a slow pace, denying the need to thrust, the need to ride him like a fucking horse. Rhett’s hold on him was tight, clawing, getting so fucking desperate, and Jay smiled into their kiss.
“You wanna come, baby?”
“So bad.”
“Can feel how swollen your cock is,” Jay murmured with a groan. “You fill me up so good.”
Rhett cried out, gripping Jay’s hips hard and thrusting up into him, swelling impossibly before pulsing, throbbing as he came.
Jay could feel it. Every surge.
“Oh, fuck yes, give it all to me,” he cried.
And Rhett did.
They collapsed in a sweaty, sticky mess, too exhausted, too sated to care. Jay was only going to close his eyes for a second...
But he woke up to daylight cracking in through the blinds and to hunger pangs.
Oh. Food.
They’d kind of forgotten about that.
After a quick detour to the bathroom, leaving a gorgeous Rhett sound asleep, Jay decided to make a banquet for his king.
Thankful for the suite with a small kitchen, he made toast, eggs, sausages, and a metric fuckton of coffee. Jay knew the smell would rouse Rhett soon enough, and he wasn’t disappointed.
A sleep-rumpled, boxer-wearing Rhett came out to the kitchen, one eye still squinting and his hand scratching his head. “Food. I smell food.”
Jay laughed and held a slice of toast to Rhett’s mouth. “Eat up, baby. Carbohydrates are very important for sustained energy and endurance.”
Rhett chuckled as he chewed and swallowed. “Is there any such thing as death by too many orgasms? Because I’m pretty sure I know what you have planned for me today.”
“I dunno,” Jay replied happily, this time offering him a bite of sausage. “But you might wanna give the Guinness Book people a heads up, because we’re gonna break some records today.”
Rhett laughed as his phone rang, and Yunho’s number came up.
Jay groaned as Rhett snatched the phone up and hit Answer. “Do you ever sleep?”
“Sometimes,” Yunho replied. “Remember last night when I said something could be developing?”
Rhett stood up taller. “Yeah.”
“Well, something’s developing. Get your team together and get to Northolt Airport. I’ve arranged transportand I’ve notified Director King. He’ll be joining you.”
“Sounds big,” Rhett replied, dread pooling in his belly.
“Yixing is missing, and facial recognition just pinged Frankston entering Shanghai under a false passport.”
Holy fuck.
“And I believe there are direct ties to the disappearance of Yin’s contact. I have footage of a man seen putting a woman into an ambulance at a military hospital, who wethinkcould be Jun-mei. And that same man just picked Frankston up from the airport.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
At a military hospital?