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.