Page 11

Rowan pulls his fingertips away and tightens his hand around Mal’s cock, not wanting him to come so soon. Though he can’t deny how hot it is that Mal has nearly come from a brief prostate massage and hand job. Can’t deny how hard it makes him thinking of edging Mal one day, milking his prostate until he’s leaking all over himself and ready to blow, only to be denied that pleasure over and over.

Fuck.

But for now, he asks, “You wanna come now?” and resumes his fingering, steering clear of Mal’s prostate.

Mal’s back heaves once, twice. “N-not yet.”

As much as he’d like to, Rowan’s not gonna tease him anymore. He slips in a third finger, stretching him thoroughly and letting himself enjoy the feeling of the tight heat around his fingers. The heat of him in his hand, precome leaking from his tip nearly down to the fucking floor, a shiny gossamer trail proving how turned on Mal is right now.

Rowan could stand to fit in another finger, knowing how big he is compared to most guys, but he’s greedy.

Selfish.

A pretty shit quality for a Dom, and Rowan will work on that later, but he’s been dying to get inside Mal again, like an addict awaiting his next fix, and it should bother him, it should worry the fuck outta him , but he’s hard as a rock and he doesn’t care.

Rowan rises up, gripping and spreading Mal’s asscheeks as he does and rutting his still-clothed, hard bulge against him, not caring that lube and his own spit smear on the front of his jeans.

With both hands, he grips Mal’s biceps and hauls him up, back once again pressed to Rowan’s chest, eliciting a sharp inhale from Mal.

And as hot as the faux restraints are, Rowan wants him fully naked. He pushes the scrunched-up fabric of Mal’s shirt down his arms and lets the garment drop to the floor.

With Mal completely naked, Rowan takes the opportunity to run his hands up Mal’s sides, over his abs and pecs and back down across the subtle indents of his rib cage. Exploring him. Normally, he’d spend as much time as he wanted feeling him up, but he’s all too aware that even that can be seen as too intimate, which isn’t what they’re here for.

Maybe one day they can dip into that territory—once they’ve known each other for longer than a week, that is—but for now Rowan makes his appreciation of Mal’s body known with two quick loops, a squeeze here and there, a raking of blunt fingernails against his skin. And then he’s done. But before he stops, he can’t help but notice the way Mal’s head has started to dip back, a breathy rush of air escaping his lips, particularly when Rowan had brushed over his nipples.

The fact that Mal evidently has sensitive nipples sends a surge of heat to Rowan’s dick, and he files that knowledge away for later. He’d already suspected as much from the gangbang, but the confirmation of it now is a welcome fact.

Rowan spins him in place, less rough than he had been initially, but still firm in his movements. Mal shifts easily, and once they are face-to-face, Rowan tells him, “Undress me.”

Mal smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Can’t do that yourself, Fire—”

Rowan threads his fingers in Mal’s hair and tugs his head back, forcing him to look even further up at him.

“You wanna try that again?” Rowan asks rhetorically, eyes narrowed, watching with laser focus as Mal swallows, Adam’s apple more pronounced than ever with his neck craned back.

Then there’s that tiny nod of his head again, and in one quick motion, Mal’s fingers come up to start unbuttoning Rowan’s shirt, working from the top down. He pushes the fabric off Rowan’s shoulders, lets the garment fall to the floor along with Mal’s own clothes, then reaches for the hem of Rowan’s tank top.

“Pick it up,” Rowan orders.

Mal pauses, glancing up at Rowan with a questioning look, eyes widening when he sees that Rowan’s serious. Slowly, he dips in place, keeping eye contact as he retrieves Rowan’s shirt from the floor.

“Fold it and put it on the bed.”

A hitch in his breath, but Mal obeys, quickly shaking out and folding the garment, if a little unevenly with it still being unbuttoned, and places it on the corner of the bed.

“Good. Keep going.”

Rowan hadn’t planned on this, but something about it gets his blood racing. The power imbalance of having Mal pick up and fold Rowan’s clothes while his lie crumpled on the floor. It does something for him, is all. And the way Mal’s breath stutters when he pulls Rowan’s tank top over his head and immediately folds it tells him he’s most likely into it too.

Mal moves to start on his jeans, but Rowan pushes at his shoulders to get him on his knees instead, seeing that he’d intentionally landed on his own pile of clothing as Rowan hoped he would.

And God, seeing him on his knees in front of him, looking up expectantly, has Rowan’s cock growing impossibly harder.

“Shoes first.”

Mal sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as he unlaces Rowan’s shoes one at a time, Rowan stepping out of them himself. He doesn’t love his feet being touched, so when Mal moves to take his socks off, he stills him with a hand to his head and toes them off himself.

Without being told, Mal folds his socks in half and turns at the waist to place them atop Rowan’s shirts.

Fucking perfect.

“Now you can take my pants off.”

Mal deftly, silently unbuttons and unzips Rowan’s jeans, hooks his fingers in the front pockets, and tugs them halfway down Rowan’s thighs. He brings one hand up to half circle Rowan’s hard dick, feeling him through his briefs.

Even that simple touch feels fucking great, but that’s not what he told Mal to do. So with his hand still curled in Mal’s hair, he pulls once again, tearing Mal’s gaze away from his lap.

“Didn’t say to feel me up, Mal.”

And Rowan half expects him to grope him again, but something about the way Mal’s cheeks flame instead gives Rowan pause. Almost like he’s not used to people calling him Mal in bed, and his brattiness was thrown off. That’s something to delve into later, given that Mal told him to call him by that name when they’d talked after the gangbang. Insisted on hating being called Malcolm, even.

For a second, he’s tempted to pause. To check in and make sure he didn’t cross a line. To be soft .

But the way Mal’s fingers dig into Rowan’s hips at the band of his boxer briefs, knuckle tattoos vibrant against his pale skin, makes him reconsider.

Want you to be rough with me , Mal’s text echoes in his head.

“You done bein’ a fuckin’ brat, or do you actually want me to fuck a fake pussy instead of your ass?” Rowan asks.

A beat, then two. Mal doesn’t respond.

A sharp tug at the roots of his hair. “ That would be one of the times I want you to answer.”

A pause then “No.” Grumbled. Annoyed.

Two can play at that game.

“ No you’re not done bein’ a brat, or no you don’t want me to fuck the toy?”

Rowan can practically feel the resentment radiating from Mal as his muscles tense beneath him. So different from the near embarrassment he’d shown a few moments ago at being addressed by name. Yet now Mal answers, “Don’t want you to fuck the toy,” through gritted teeth.

“’S what I thought.” Rowan huffs out a low laugh, cupping Mal’s chin with his thumb and pointer finger and tilting his head up to meet his eyes. “That mean you’ll be good for me?”

And, yeah, okay, a small part of him does wish that Mal would be good and do everything he says. But a much larger, harder part of himself wants him to keep going. Wants him to keep being the petty, whiny, mouthy brat that he is when he’s naked and make Rowan work for it.

But he can’t let him know that. Not right now at least.

In lieu of a verbal response, Mal nods against his fingers, curtly, clipped almost, if that’s possible with a gesture. Rowan takes it as a win.

“Good. ’Cause I missed this greedy fuckin’ mouth of yours,” Rowan tells him, dragging his thumb along Mal’s lower lip. Mal cranes his neck to follow the trail of Rowan’s hand, until he sucks the digit into his mouth, tonguing over Rowan’s first knuckle. “Yeah. Want you to get my dick nice and wet, just like that.” He lets him suck on it for a few seconds more before pulling it out of his mouth and wiping his thumb on the side of Mal’s cheek. “Got a job to finish first, though.”

At once, Mal’s fingers tug Rowan’s jeans the rest of the way down his legs, waiting for Rowan to step out of them before folding and placing them on the bed.

He curls his hands into Rowan’s briefs and tugs them down, Rowan’s cock bobbing out and hanging hard between his legs. In a flash his briefs are with the rest of his clothes, and Mal’s eye level with Rowan’s cock and looking hungry , eyes half lidded. Mal drops his jaw and presses his tongue against his bottom lip, inviting Rowan inside.

Rowan holds his cock at the base, pumps himself once, and rubs the tip along Mal’s outstretched tongue, watching as Mal’s eyes flutter closed at the taste. His lips close around the head, ready to suck, but Rowan drags his cock to the side, watching rapt as Mal’s cheek bulges before it pops out the side of his mouth. He feels the hot puff of air as Mal exhales, but it’s cut short when Rowan sticks his cock back in. A groan vibrates through Mal’s lips as Rowan repeats the action, growing stronger as Mal sucks a little harder each time his mouth is filled.

And God, when Rowan finally relents and stops teasing both Mal and himself and presses his cock deeper inside, it’s as good as he remembered. Better even, now that they’re alone and there’s only the sounds of Rowan’s steady breaths and the wet slurp of Mal working his cock with his lips and tongue. He looks so fucking perfect with his lips stretched wide and eyes scrunched tight and…

… oh.

Oh, that’s not right. Rowan shifts his hand from where it has been resting, easily nestled into Mal’s hair, and cups his cheek, runs his thumb across his temple.

“Look at me,” he says, voice even.

And when Mal’s eyes flutter open and he looks up at Rowan through his dark lashes, lips tight around his cock and still languidly sucking, well, Rowan can’t help but tell him how good he looks.

“Fuckin’ perfect like this.”

Mal hums around him, the vibrations tingling through the head of his dick and making Rowan’s breath hitch. And the little shit must love that, using his tongue to push Rowan’s cock against the side of his mouth so that Rowan can feel it bulging through his cheek, which, okay, fuck .

Rowan dips his head back for a second, long enough to get his bearings as Mal works him over expertly. He’s forced to look down at him again when he feels a hand curl around his shaft and Mal’s mouth pull off a few inches.

Prying Mal’s fingers off and pushing them away with a flick of his wrist, Rowan tells him, “Said I wanted your mouth, not your hand.”

He thrusts back in the few inches that he’d slipped out, feeling the back of Mal’s throat close around the tip of his cock and the sputtering choke that follows. Mal’s hands jerk up involuntarily and clutch at Rowan’s thighs.

“Keep ’em in your lap,” Rowan says, voice stern. And when he pulls them back down, hovering over his dick, Rowan adds, “But don’t fuckin’ touch yourself,” for good measure. Mal’s fingers clench, but he dutifully places a palm on each thigh.

Rowan feels more than hears Mal’s slight whimper at the direction, little more than a tingling sensation around the head of his cock. Then Mal gets to work in earnest, dutifully sucking him down, head bobbing and hands clawing into his thighs, little red crescents forming in his skin from Mal’s blunt nails. Rowan lets him work on his own for a long few minutes, growing harder with each passing second and each dribble of spit that runs down Mal’s chin.

And he’s so fuckin’ pretty like that. Gorgeous. Eyes lidded but still open like Rowan told him, focused on him.

“Fuck,” Rowan breathes as Mal’s tongue delves into his slit. “Wish you could see yourself like this.”

Frankly, Rowan wishes he had better than 20/20 vision. Wishes he could see in HD with the way Mal’s devouring him right now and looking like he’s loving every second of it.

Rowan sinks his fingers into Mal’s hair, the only warning he gives him before thrusting into his mouth, cock hitting the back of his throat and making him splutter before Rowan pulls back. He keeps his cock in his mouth, just the tip, and lets Mal catch his breath.

The feeling of Mal’s hot breath on his cock sends a wave of pleasure through him and a spurt of precome to dribble out from his tip. And Mal outright whines at that before suctioning his lips around him again and locking eyes with Rowan, lidded and hazy as he lets Rowan’s cock sit in his mouth.

Waiting.

Waiting for Rowan to fuck his face like they both want.

And holy fuck , he’s perfect.

A curl of Mal’s tongue on the underside of Rowan’s tip is all the motivation he needs to fist his hands in Mal’s hair and slam forward into the wet heat of his mouth. He gives him no break this time, cock sliding in easily and Mal expertly keeping his teeth out of the way and taking nearly Rowan’s full length down his throat.

The hot suction of Mal’s mouth around him is heavenly, but the blissed-out look on Mal’s face is so much better. Rowan keeps Mal’s head mostly still between his hands as he fucks into his mouth, watching his eyes droop the more of his cock Rowan stuffs inside. By the time Mal’s struggling to keep his eyes open and is breathing hard through his nose, Rowan’s groin is pressed firmly to his face.

“ Unh ,” Rowan moans, drinking in the sight of Mal with his mouth full. “Fuckin’ made to suck cock, huh?”

He keeps thrusting in deep, hands sliding out of Mal’s hair to cup his cheeks on either side, fingertips pressed against the underside of his jaw to feel him swallow around Rowan’s cock. Feel the shifting of his muscles as Rowan holds him still. Mal gags, coughs, throat tightening around Rowan’s dick before he pulls out, and Mal moans openly, a beautiful “ Hnnnn !” sound that lights Rowan’s belly on fire.

“Yeah, God . Tell me, Mal.”

Another thrust, not as deep but fast , driving himself in to the root and back out again. And then another strangled sound from Mal, like he wants to answer Rowan but can’t do that with his mouth full. Rowan grips his cock around the base, pulling out and rubbing the tip across spit-slick lips.

And when Mal works his lips around his head, like he’s sucking on a goddamn lollipop, well. That’s really all the answer he needs, but—

“Tell me how much you love this,” Rowan demands, curling his hand around Mal’s jaw and coaxing his mouth open to circle his cockhead around Mal’s tongue.

Mal closes his lips around his tip in a filthy semblance of a kiss. “Fuckin’ love it .”

His words, sultry and low and gravelly from having his throat fucked, bypass Rowan’s ears and go straight to his dick, making his stomach clench and his balls tighten like he’s about to blow for fuck’s sake.

And he’s gonna risk it, risk coming early, but, well, Mal said he wanted him to be rough. Said he fuckin’ loves having a cock in his mouth. So Rowan’s gonna give him what he wants.

Once again, he grips Mal’s hair, lines his cock up, and slams home, fucking his mouth fast and hard like he’s gonna do to his ass later on. A teaser. A promise.

“Hm-hm-hm-hm !” Mal groans with every thrust as Rowan’s cock hits the back of his throat and his balls slap against his chin.

His hands fly up to clutch at Rowan’s calves, and Rowan lets him, knowing that he probably needs the leverage and also that Rowan doesn’t want to stop to tell him to keep his hands in his lap.

God, he’s so fucking perfect.

And fuck , it’s too much. Someday he’ll have Mal suck him off and swallow his come, but now he needs to stop. Needs to be inside his other hole again.

“Get up,” Rowan tells him, pulling out and dislodging Mal’s hands from his legs.

Mal obeys instantly, almost too eager, and Rowan would comment on it—whether to praise or chastise, he has no idea—but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t equally as excited. Still, Rowan notes the slight wobble in Mal’s knees as he rises up in front of him.

Once Mal is at his full height, Rowan bends and hooks his hands behind Mal’s thighs, feeling the swell of his ass above, and lifts him quickly, then dumps him backward onto the bed—away from Rowan’s clothes—his weight manageable but still making his quads strain with the effort. Mal’s wide-eyed expression is fully worth it when he hits the pad with a thump , his surprised look quickly shifting to lust.

And seeing him like that—splayed on the bed, chest and cheeks flushed, cock hard where it’s once again concealed by the jockstrap—nearly makes Rowan dizzy with want.

“Anyone ever tell you how good you look on your back?”

Instantly, Mal’s face flushes a beautiful crimson to match the color on his chest.

With a low chuckle, Rowan keeps his eyes on him and climbs on the bed between his legs, which part automatically for him. He settles in a wide, kneeling stance pressed against Mal’s ass. He ruts his cock against Mal’s, spreading his precome and Mal’s spit against the already-damp fabric of the jockstrap. The feeling is both electric and primal , settling somewhere deep in Rowan’s gut.

“Yeah,” Mal replies, hitching his hips up in a slow grind, abs flexing tantalizingly. “They all did somethin’ about it, though.”

Yeah. He needs to get on him right the fuck now.

“Changed my mind,” Rowan tells him. In one swift motion, he pushes Mal’s knees to his chest then off to the side, using the momentum of the motion and one hand under his lower back to flip him onto his front. “Think I like you on your knees better.”

“Fuck—”

“That’s the plan, but do you think you deserve it?”

Mal huffs out a breath that sounds entirely too self-satisfied for their current positions. “Think you’re gonna fuck me whether I deserve it or not.”

Smack!

Rowan slaps his right asscheek hard, hand stinging with the effort.

“Ah!”

Rutting his cock against the back of Mal’s thigh, Rowan spanks him again. “I got a whole wall full’a toys that can get me off, Mal. Don’t need your slutty ass.”

And boy if that isn’t the biggest lie Rowan’s ever told in his life. Because he does, in fact, very much need Mal’s ass. Is very much going to fuck him whether he deserves it or not. Even if Mal had done nothing but disobey him this whole time, he’d still fuck him at the end ’cause he fuckin’ loves it too. They both fuckin’ love it.

But he has a role to play, and that role right now demands making Mal beg for it.

Mal props himself up on his forearms and arches his back, sticking his ass out like he had at the gangbang. Right before the first guy fucked him. Rowan has to grip the base of his dick to stave off the desire to come from the sight and memory alone.

Instead, he casually snaps the straps of the jockstrap, enjoying the way Mal’s ass all but jiggles with the force of the elastic snapping back into place.

“ Pft . Look at you. So fuckin’ desperate, huh?” Rowan shoves two fingers deep inside him, pressing against his prostate once before pulling away and focusing on simply dragging his fingers in and out.

“ Hn !” Mal’s head dips to the bed, legs widening on their own.

Like he’s fucking presenting himself to Rowan, and fuck if that doesn’t make his dick throb.

“Yeah, you are. Fuckin’ obvious, really.” Rowan reaches over to grab the lube he’d thrown on the corner of the bed and slicks himself up while he fingers Mal. “But I wanna hear it. Just like last time.”

There’s only a brief hesitation before Mal replies in a quiet voice, “Fuck me.”

His tone is nowhere near as desperate as Rowan knows he’s feeling right now, if the breathless whimpers he’s letting out and endless straining of his muscles are anything to go by.

So Rowan withdraws his fingers and grinds his slick cock between his cheeks, the tip catching on the rim of Mal’s hole, making the other man whine.

“Not good enough.”

“Fuck.” Mal grits out, and Rowan sees him ball his hands into fists on the bed. “Come on.”

One final slick thrust and Rowan pulls away, sitting back on his heels until he’s completely separated from Mal’s body.

“Nah, you know what I wanna hear, Mal.”

Instead of the verbal begging Rowan wants, Mal widens his knees again so Rowan has a perfect view of his pink hole closing around nothing. Where it should currently be closing around Rowan’s cock.

“Cute how you think that’s gonna work,” Rowan tells him.

He slides off the bed, turning and making for the toy wall. In reality, he’s not going to get any of the toys. Their talk beforehand made it clear that Mal wants this session to be mostly vanilla, so he’s obviously going to respect that. But Rowan can fake it. Can bluff for the sake of riling Mal up and getting him to beg for his cock.

“Rowan….”

There it is.

That quiet muttered word that’s still somehow loaded with annoyance and resignation, but most importantly, with desire underneath it all.

“Hm?” he hums, turning to look at Mal, who’s not looking at him, head still dipped low to the mattress.

“Fuck me, Rowan.” Louder, but still too quiet.

Rowan returns to the bed, climbs back on, and kneels at Mal’s side. He cups his chin in his hand, turning Mal’s face to look up at him. “Didn’t quite hear you.” With his free hand, Rowan strokes himself in long, slow pulls.

Mal’s entire focus is on Rowan’s cock, lips parting again as if remembering how it felt in his mouth. As he watches Rowan jerk himself, his features relax, brows no longer scrunched together, eyelids no longer narrowed. It takes nearly a full minute, but he’s done fighting.

“I want you to fuck me, Rowan.” This time it’s perfect. Breathy and with an edge to it, but sincere enough that Rowan will give it to him.

He walks on his knees back around behind Mal, then clutches above Mal’s elbows to haul him onto his knees and pull him back against his chest. He crosses Mal’s hands behind his back and switches his grip to fit both of his wrists in one hand—and fuck, he can fit both of them in one hand—freeing his other to line up his cock.

“Good. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

As soon as the first inch is inside Mal, Rowan reaches around to tweak his nipples, the hard buds hot under his fingertips.

“ Unnnnnhhhh —!”

And God , as he presses in deeper, it feels like Mal is sucking him in, and he can’t help releasing a low groan, matching Mal’s.

“Yeah, that’s it, Mal,” Rowan tells him. When he’s halfway in, he pulls back out and then works himself deeper, pinching Mal’s nipple between his fingers.

“Fuck,” Mal curses, breathy and low, when Rowan’s fully seated.

“Yeah,” Rowan agrees.

He slides his free hand up Mal’s chest, fingers skirting over his pecs and clavicle and up to his neck, like he had at the gangbang. He feels more than hears Mal’s sharp inhale at the contact, all the much hotter now that he knows that Mal is into choking. But he continues his trail up, cupping Mal’s jaw and turning his head to the side as he thrusts leisurely into him, feeling Mal open up around him.

“So fuckin’ tight for me,” he says in his ear as Mal shudders and clenches around him.

“Shit….”

And it’s nice, this slowness. Appreciating each other and getting accustomed to being connected again. But Mal said he wanted rough, so that’s what Rowan’s gonna give him. And if Rowan’s being honest, he wants to fuck Mal into next Tuesday.

Wants to ruin him like he promised.

In one swift move, he slides both his hands to Mal’s arms, wrenches them behind his back as he had before, and crosses them over one another.

Rowan holds him in place there, fucking into him hard three, four times, the slap of his skin against Mal’s deafening in the mostly quiet room.

“ Guh !” Mal exclaims, breathless.

Yeah, that’s more like it.

Rowan switches his grip to once again hold both of Mal’s wrists in one hand and uses his other to shove at Mal’s midback to force him down onto the bed.