Page 16

There’s a brief hesitation before Mal crawls the two feet toward him, circling around to Rowan’s side and pausing next to his thighs.

“Straddle me.”

Again, that moment of hesitation, Mal eyeing Rowan’s pristine jeans.

But Rowan doesn’t want hesitation. He wants to be obeyed . He rakes his hand through Mal’s hair, tugging once his fingers meet the roots.

“Didn’t shove the beads up your ears, Mal. Let’s go.”

He doesn’t wait for Mal to respond before tugging harder toward his lap. Mal fumbles with a mumbled, “Fuckin’….” as he swings a leg over Rowan’s thigh and settles below his lap with a wince.

“Fuckin’ what ?” Rowan challenges, yanking him up by the ass until he’s firmly seated above his cock.

“Gonna ruin your— nnng !”

Mal groans deep as Rowan grinds his hips up, driving his hard cock between his cheeks.

“You’re gonna do what I tell you,” Rowan replies, gripping Mal’s hips almost hard enough to bruise and dragging him forward in a filthy grind. “ Move .”

He drinks in the sight of Mal’s eyes rolling back as he starts a smooth rocking of his hips, abs flexing and cock bobbing. Each roll a perfect, smooth drag across Rowan’s hard cock, punctuated by a stutter and a gasp as the beads are pressed deeper inside Mal.

“Tell me how it feels,” Rowan commands.

“Fu- full, fuck….”

“Wanted all of ’em in you so fuckin’ bad.”

He grabs Mal by the back of his neck, yanking him down so Mal has to slap the bed next to Rowan’s shoulder to keep from completely collapsing on top of him. Mal’s eyes widen, nostrils flaring, but he keeps up that delicious grind all the while without even being told.

“This what you wanted, Mal?” he demands, watching the other man’s eyelids flutter and a bead of sweat trickle down his temple.

“Want… want y-your…,” Mal starts, hips stuttering as much as his words.

Rowan slaps the side of Mal’s thighs, fingertips digging into the taut muscle and cutting off Mal’s words. He forces him to resume his grinding, feeling more than seeing the hitch in his breath at the way the beads must shift inside him. At the way the scratch of his jeans, soft as they may be, must bite into his heated skin.

Rowan reaches around Mal’s side, thankful for his long arms when he finds the loop on the end of the beads. He tugs Mal completely on top of him, feeling the heat and heft of his body like a weighted blanket, comforting despite the heady atmosphere around them. Mal hitches his hips, grinding his hard cock into Rowan’s as Rowan tugs the first bead out.

“Mmm…,” Mal whimpers, burying his face in Rowan’s shoulder and muffling the sound.

With his free hand, he drags Mal’s head up by his hair. “Wanna hear you, Mal.”

A smooth tug and the second bead is out, Mal’s groan this time loud and clear.

“That’s it. In this room, your noises are mine .”

Pop. Moan. Pop. Moan.

The next two beads in quick succession.

“Ooooh, fuck….”

Mal’s thighs quiver around Rowan’s waist as he twirls the string of beads around his rim, teasingly pulling at the last bead.

“Last one. Think you deserve my cock yet?”

Mal scrunches his eyes tight, nodding vigorously against Rowan’s chest, rustling the fabric of his shirt.

“Oh yeah? Whatcha done to deserve it, huh?”

Rowan shifts his grip on the beads and presses another one back inside.

“Fuck….” Mal pants above him, fingertips clawing into Rowan’s biceps as he continues to rut his cock into Rowan’s lap. “I….”

“You what?”

Rowan pops another bead back in, circling his fingertip around the pulsing rim as soon as the bead is nestled inside. Wishing it was his cock probably as much as Mal does.

“I… fuckin’….”

“Haven’t done shit ,” Rowan finishes for him. He slips a finger in Mal’s hole, rubbing along the bead inside him and pressing it toward his prostate. “Been a brat all night, as usual.”

A whoosh of breath escapes Mal’s mouth, and Rowan can feel the moisture from his breath dampening his shirt. But there’s no reply. No rebuttal defending his actions. Only a subtle shaking from his prostate being stimulated and his hard nipples brushing against Rowan’s shirt like Rowan wanted.

“Lucky for you I’m feelin’ generous today.”

He tugs the string of beads fully out, one by one, quickly replacing them with two of his fingers to feel the flutter of Mal’s hole clenching.

“Fuck!”

“Off,” Rowan orders, withdrawing his fingers and shoving at Mal’s shoulder.

With shaky legs, Mal climbs off Rowan and slips from the bed to stand on the floor, hard cock peeking out over the edge of the mattress, a thin trail of precome dripping tantalizingly.

Rowan swiftly sits up and rolls off the bed himself, then sinks to his knees in front of Mal, tongue darting out to taste the salty drop.

“ Nnggg ….”

Rowan sucks hard at the tip, not taking the rest of him in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around and delves into the slit when he feels Mal’s hands card through his hair. He drags himself off Mal’s cock and catches his wrist in a firm grip before he has a chance to pull away.

“Uh-uh,” he chastises.

He shoves his hand away and rises to his full height, Mal straining up at him even before Rowan wrenches his head back to force him to look farther up.

Rowan tuts at him. “And right after you said you deserved my cock, too.”

The glint in Mal’s eyes crackles with charged electricity, sending a tingling trail straight to Rowan’s dick.

“Don’t matter if I deserve it.”

There it is. That cockiness that piqued Rowan’s interest from the start.

But now it pisses him off.

“Wanna bet on that?”

Rowan reaches around, sliding his palm over that perfect ass and shoving two fingers back inside Mal’s hole, tugging upward so Mal has to raise up onto his tiptoes. Nearly eye to eye with him, now.

“Could get you off any number’a ways beside my dick,” Rowan says.

To prove his point, he pumps his fingers in and out, crooking up and brushing against Mal’s prostate on each drag. It’s obvious that Mal’s trying not to let the mask slip. Trying not to show how affected he is by Rowan’s touch when he’s trying to be smug and make a point. It’s even more obvious that he’s failing.

Rowan releases the hand in Mal’s hair, trailing down the side of his face and ghosting over his neck long enough to feel the throb of his pulse point. He doesn’t miss the way Mal’s eyes flutter at the contact.

“Ain’t gonna get what— fuck … what ya want if ya don’t,” Mal tells him, despite the way he arches into Rowan’s touch.

He’s right, of course. The bastard.

“Seem awfully worried ’bout my dick for someone who said he didn’t need it earlier.”

Mal’s hands wander down to Rowan’s crotch, palming him through his damp jeans. “Don’t need it,” he argues, pressing with the heel of his hand. “Want it, though.”

Rowan huffs out a sarcastic laugh and shoves Mal’s hands back down by his sides. “Course you do. Fuckin’ slut.”

He swears he sees Mal preen at the name. Totally unashamed.

He tugs at Mal’s slick rim, adding another finger, which he takes in easily. Perfectly stretched and ready for Rowan’s cock, thanks to the hefty beads.

“Got somethin’ to do first, though,” Rowan says, withdrawing his fingers and wiping them on Mal’s ass before grabbing the cuffs from the edge of the bed. “How tight do you want ’em?”

“Third hole,” Mal says, offering Rowan his left wrist.

Rowan inspects the cuffs, runs a thumb over the third hole where the leather is softer and more worn than the rest, evidence that the cuffs have seen some use. Evidence that Mal’s been with other people he’s trusted to bind his hands.

Trust.

That’s what this is all about.

What all the reading and the research he’s done on the subject has told him is vital to any kind of Dom/sub relationship.

And already Mal trusts him enough to put himself in a nearly helpless situation. He doesn’t doubt that the man could still hold his own in a fight even with his arms tied behind his back, but the sentiment stands. There’s a swell of something in Rowan’s belly that he’ll examine later, when he doesn’t have a naked and hard Mal waiting in front of him.

Probably more carefully than he needs to, Rowan unfurls the first cuff and wraps it around Mal’s slender wrist, looping the strap through the eyelet and fastening it at the third hole. He folds both hands over the cuff, checking the fit, and feels Mal’s fingertips graze slowly, deliberately, across his wrist.

Looking down through his lashes, Rowan sees Mal watching him with half-lidded eyes, the gold of them so fucking bright even in the relative dimness of the windowless room.

Another light stroke of his fingertips, this time directly over Rowan’s pulse point. Where Mal would surely feel the rapid rush of blood in his veins if he pressed a little harder.

“Good?” Rowan asks.

“Yeah.”

As Rowan’s clasping the second cuff on Mal, the room seems to grow twenty degrees warmer, and Rowan’s sure it has everything to do with the heated look Mal’s giving him. His gaze keeps him rooted in place, nearly causing him to fumble in tightening the cuff fully. He recovers quickly, hoping that Mal didn’t notice his near slip-up.

The smirk forming on his lips tells Rowan he isn’t so lucky.

Rowan grips his shoulders hard and spins Mal in place, tugging him back against his chest.

“Somethin’ funny?”

“No, sir ,” Mal mocks.

Yeah, that shit’s not gonna fly.

Rowan tweaks both of Mal’s nipples between his fingers, tugging on the hard buds until the other man is writhing in his arms, spine creased and head dipped back against his shoulder. It’s then that Rowan grabs both of Mal’s wrists and deftly clasps the connector on to each side, locking his arms behind his back.

“This is a good look for you, Mal,” Rowan tells him, testing the connector with one hand and resuming his assault on Mal’s nipples with the other.

Mal groans, chest puffing out as he presses into Rowan’s touch.

Even in their close proximity, Rowan marvels at the way Mal’s back muscles flex and his shoulder blades shift as he squirms. He lets himself explore Mal’s body, running over defined pecs and taut shoulders and down the deep curve of his spine, his skin warm and slick with the cooled sweat from the first half of their session.

He ends his journey again at the cuffs, tugging once more on the connector between Mal’s wrists, the light jingle of metal sending a jolt straight to his painfully hard cock.

Rowan feels a surge of desire race through him and abruptly spins the pair of them in place, shoving Mal face down onto the bed.

“ Fuck !” he gasps.

Rowan ruts against his ass, utterly shameless in his need to watch his clothed cock slide between slick cheeks, further dampening his already ruined jeans. But God, the sounds Mal makes when Rowan grinds against him and tugs his arms taut are completely worth it.

“Gonna fuck you just like this.”

In a flurry, Rowan unbuttons his shirt and flings the tails out of his way as he pulls out his cock through his jeans and coats himself in lube. He doesn’t bother asking Mal if he’s ready. Hell, Rowan’s been ready since last week.

But the urge to tease Mal some more is stronger than the urge to be inside him again. He presses his cock to his own belly, letting the weight of it fall down and slap at Mal’s hole, the slick sound like a gunshot in the quiet room.

“ Unnhhh ….”

Rowan grips himself around the base, slapping at Mal’s hole over and over until it’s pulsating wildly and the lube is nearly tacky.

“Fu-fuck…. C’mon, fuck me!” Mal whines, raising his upper body up off the bed as best he can.

Smack! Rowan slaps the side of his thigh once before shoving him back down, hand pressed tight to his mid back.

He knows better than to shove his cock straight in when Mal hasn’t been properly fucked yet tonight, even if some dark part of his mind is growling at him to take and that Mal would probably fucking love it .

Instead, he inhales, exhales, matching his own breath to the steady rise and fall of Mal’s back as he presses the tip inside, Mal’s hole swallowing it greedily like the beads earlier.

“Ohhhh, fuck ….”

Inch by inch the tightness and the heat grows increasingly overwhelming, a droplet of sweat finally making an appearance, dripping down Rowan’s temple but doing jack shit to cool him. It’s hard to think that anything could quench the inferno threatening to engulf him—every tiny clench of Mal’s walls around him kindling in the fire.

Fully seated, he gives both himself and Mal a moment before starting a languid pace. A few thrusts to acclimate. When he feels Mal starting to get twitchy—hears his groans shift from breathy to impatient—he knows he needs to get a move on. And for once he fully agrees with him.

But he can’t resist the urge to watch his cock splitting him in half. He pries apart Mal’s cheeks, slick with lube. Hones in on the way his hole stretch-stretch- stretches to accommodate him as he fucks into him.

“Fuckin’ made to take my cock.”

“Don’t… unhh … fla-flatter yourself,” Mal breathes, fumbled words surely belying his true thoughts on the matter.

Rowan snaps his hips, driving into him hard.

“Not flattery if it’s true.”

He picks up his pace, settling into that hard-fast-good rhythm that they both crave. The sight of Mal face down on the bed, wrists cuffed behind him and unable to do anything but take whatever Rowan’s giving him spurs him on, and before he knows it, that heat is building inside him far too soon.

He slows again, forcing himself to focus on the tiny unh , unh , unh from Mal each time Rowan’s hips connect with his ass. But he wants to hear. Wants that push and pull that makes their fucking feel more like fighting in the best way.

Rowan tugs at the connector between the cuffs, the metal cool in his hand, and pulls , Mal’s arms straightening out and the dip in his spine forming a beautiful valley down his back.

One day Rowan’s gonna lick and suck every inch of that spine.

“Finally…,” Mal breathes, though it’s barely more than a whisper.

Rowan’s distracted with the tight heat around his cock and the vine tattoos curling around Mal’s hips and ending before the dimples of his lower back, but he registers it a beat later.

“Fuck you say?”

He tightens his grip on Mal’s hip, whiting out the black ink with the force of his fingertips.

“Told ya I wanted it rough.”

“Yeah,” Rowan agrees, gripping Mal’s elbows and pulling his arms back until his shoulder blades nearly touch, driving into him hard.

“Mmm!”

“You did say that.” He tugs him up, chest completely lifted off the bed, held up only by Rowan’s grip on him.

For a blissful minute, he fucks into him, an obscene, slick slap filling the room with each thrust, punctuated by Mal’s satisfied groans.

As fantastic as it feels, he doesn’t want to give in to Mal’s demands so easily.

“Know what I want though, Mal?”

He releases Mal’s arms, shoving him off his dick and back down onto the bed, his surprised yelp intoxicating as he twists and lands on his side.

Rowan flips him fully onto his back, and with a sharp pull, yanks at Mal’s thighs until his ass is on the edge of the bed, sweat-slick back sliding across the leather pad and making a grating squeak noise.

“Not to fuck me, apparently,” Mal quips, though it’s obvious he’s winded from the maneuvers.

Rowan slaps the outside of Mal’s thigh.

“Fuck!”

“Gonna slap that fuckin’ attitude right outta your mouth one’a these days.”

And oh, there’s a thought. Seeing Mal’s face with cheeks as red as his asscheeks have gotten the few times he’s spanked him.

But would Mal—

“ Do it .”

Fuck. He wants to.

But…

“Nah. You don’t get to ask for shit.”

He heaves Mal’s legs onto his shoulders and pulls Mal’s body up to near sitting, one hand secure around the back of his neck. And Mal folds into it, sending heat straight to Rowan’s cock and flooding his mind with images of other positions he could manhandle him into.

“You get to watch me fuck you how I wanna fuck you,” he tells him, guiding his cock back inside Mal’s slick hole but only putting in the tip.

“ Uhn …,” Mal moans softly, eyes fluttering closed.

Rowan curls his nails into the back of his neck.

“Open. Or you’re not gettin’ any more.”

Mal groans but opens his eyes, the shimmer always catching Rowan off guard when their eyes connect after a long while apart.

“Good,” Rowan tells him. “Watch.”

Gold eyes drop to where their bodies are connected, and Rowan thrusts his full length inside in one long, slow motion that has Mal groaning and his eyes fighting to stay open, brows knit tightly together.

“Now squeeze.”

At once, Mal’s walls clench around him like a vise, releasing after a second before tightening right back up. Fucking milking Rowan’s cock, for fuck’s sake, and it’s driving Rowan insane.

“Oh fuck…,” he gasps, forgetting himself and getting lost momentarily in this wild new pleasure he’s sure no one else has made him experience.

Mal’s calf flexes against his shoulder, and Rowan snaps out of the mini trance Mal’s ass had lulled him into.

He wraps his free hand around Mal’s cock, gathering the precome leaking onto his abs and slicking his hand, stroking him in time with his thrusts.

“Ohhh shit …,” Mal moans again, throwing his head back and pinching Rowan’s fingers against his upper back.

Rowan tears away the hand on Mal’s cock and smacks the inside of his thigh, leaving a slick red handprint in its wake.

“What’d I just fuckin’ tell you?” he snaps, slapping Mal’s other thigh to match.

Mal exhales heavily but looks down again, biting his bottom lip, probably to keep himself from saying something Rowan’s gonna make him regret. Only then does Rowan grasp his cock again and resume his thrusts, slow but deep and hard and so fucking good .

“Yeah…,” Mal breathes. “Fuck, faster ….”

Rowan huffs a laugh. “Thought I told ya you didn’t get to ask for anything.”