Unsurprisingly, his thoughts drift again to Mal. He wonders if he’s at home, lying in his bed, thinking about last night. Wonders if his hair’s mussed up or if he’s one of those people who look neatly coiffed even in sleep. Wonders if his muscles are aching and if he regrets letting Rowan shred his jockstrap. But he especially wonders if Mal had woken up with morning wood, and if it was a slow, lazy spreading of heat like Rowan’s or a raging inferno that had him shoving his hand down his underwear as soon as he was fully conscious.

Wonders if his hole is still loose from last night. God, Rowan can picture it perfectly. One hand on that plump cock of his, pumping away but needing something in him. Needing to feel full. Other hand snaking down between those fucking thick thighs and two fingers sinking into himself. A hitch in his breath.

Rowan makes a tight ring with his thumb and index finger, slipping it down over his cock from tip to base and imagining he’s sinking into Mal. It doesn’t compare, of course, but the mind’s a powerful thing, and if he squeezes his eyes shut harder, he can almost, almost make himself believe that it’s Mal riding him, sinking down onto his cock like he had at the gangbang.

God, he has to get him in that position again. As hot as it is seeing every inch of his cock enter Mal’s perfect ass, he wants to see Mal’s face and all of those subtle expressions he makes that continue to sear themselves into Rowan’s memory.

Eyes scrunched tight, brows knitted together, bitten lower lip releasing into a perfect O as he clenches around Rowan’s cock—fuck.

Rowan grips tighter, precome finally flowing freely enough to further slick his motions, but he’s so turned on that he barely notices, toes curling and legs shaking as he comes, pleasure spreading through him in waves. He lies in the aftermath, come cooling on his belly as his breaths even out, as his body goes limp from the exertion.

Unexpectedly, his phone chimes multiple times in quick succession. He snatches it from his nightstand, worried that someone’s dead or hurt or in jail, but relaxes when he sees they’re all texts from Mal. Lets the slow trickle of warmth in his belly sit there before he tells himself to stop being a fucking idiot and open the texts like a normal person.

He’s clumsy typing in his passcode with his left hand and fails it twice before finally managing to unlock it and swipe to his texts.

[MS] the ultimate guide to kink edited by tristan taormino

[MS] the new topping/bottoming books by janet hardy + dossie easton (good to read both even if you’re not a switch)

[MS] the loving dominant by john warren

[MS] those are good to start

[MS] lotta crap out there too so if you read anything else read some reviews first