“All right. I’ll go over what’s acceptable and not before I pick, so anyone not cool with anything can also fuck off. On the ‘yes’ list for tonight: oral and anal, fingering, rimming, spanking. I like it rough, so don’t hold back. All positions are on the table. So is double penetration, provided both’a you don’t have Mandingo dicks.”

There’s a murmur in the crowd and quite possibly in Rowan’s chest as well. He vaguely recognizes the name as an old porn star with a massive dick, but his brain is currently stuck on the possibility of fucking Malcolm at the same time as another man.

He’s been in a threesome before, once, but the bottom wasn’t interested in DPing. Even though Rowan’s never seen it outside of porn and he knows how much prep it takes, he can’t deny how hot it is.

“Calm down, fuckin’ animals,” Malcolm mumbles. “Club rules obviously apply for the ‘no’ list. No breath play or choking, though making me gag on your fingers or cock is fine. No cutting, bloodplay, deep biting, or anything else that will leave a lasting mark, including hickeys. No fisting. No toys. And no kissin’ on the mouth. You wanna lip-lock with someone else in here, be my guest, but I’ll knock you out if you try to kiss me. Spit’s fine, though.”

Rowan feels a shiver race down his spine. Well, there goes one thing he’d wanted to do with Malcolm’s mouth. But it’s understandable. He may be about to get fucked by an as-yet-unknown number of people, but kissing is a fairly intimate act, and Rowan doesn’t blame him for not wanting to do it with strangers.

“Also,” Malcolm continues, “I can’t believe I have to say this, but the only bodily fluids allowed on or in me are spit and come, got that?”

The grimace comes to Rowan’s face unintentionally, and he feels himself nodding along with the others.

“We’re all here for a good time. But break any of the rules or cross my boundaries—or anyone else’s here—and I’ll make damn sure you get blacklisted. Enrico’ll be happy to throw you out, but I have no problem kickin’ your ass myself.”

It shouldn’t, but the threat goes straight to Rowan’s dick. He wasn’t lying when he said he liked his partners to be scrappy. He assumes Enrico is some kind of bouncer or security guard, but something tells him that Malcolm could take half the guys in this room if he really wanted to.

“Questions?”

The person next to Rowan raises their hand. Rowan can’t help but roll his eyes.

Malcolm huffs out an incredulous laugh, raising his eyebrows at the guy. “This ain’t middle school, man. What?”

“Sorry, uh, how many are you picking?”

“Ten.”

Rowan can feel his lips parting on their own accord.

Ten people.

Christ.