Then it suddenly got that much more difficult to speak, because Jack was doing utterly fantastic things with his hips; Ianto's gratitude for the sturdiness of the desk beind him was incalculable, because he was certain that stability in his legs was threatening to waver.
"God," Ianto growled as the rocking motions sent heat straight there, and his fingers feverishly gripped at Jack's shirt. His body was reacting in all the right places, and this was a time when he didn't have to hide it. Which was just as well - with Jack pressing against him like that, it would have been on the wrong side of impossible to manage.
Grappling one hand around his lover's nape to keep him close, Ianto tilted his chin back for the ministrations to slide below it, exposing his throat for Jack in a gesture of deep trust and affection. He let out a low moan as his skin shivered with pinpricks of pleasure wherever he felt Jack sweep his tongue, and he thinly hoped that everyone else was out, or at least not in earshot. Heck of a time to interrupt, and heads would roll for it.
But it wasn't an immediate worry, or even a vague, distant one. He'd grown more confident with Jack, more confident in himself with Jack. As far as he was concerned, it wasn't their problem if the team found out for sure that Owen had been right about them. Well, the team, and John... Really not the time to let that maniac invade his mind.
"Okay," he admitted breathily, closing his eyes at the sensation of Jack's tongue spreading warmth over his pulse point, which even Ianto could feel flickering strongly under his mouth. "Maybe I might have had a momentary relapse as to how remarkably... magnetic you are." Magnetic. Ianto approved of this euphemism. It didn't quite capture what he really meant, which was: no sane man in any timeline could see you and not want to remove all your clothes with his teeth. But it would do. "Is there a way I can convince you to tell me that 'something else' you might have said?"