Steven snorts lightly through his nose and eyes Rowan up and down. Scrutinizing. Rowan feels his blood heat up in his veins, but returns the favor, keeping his face completely impassive.

“All right, put the rulers away,” Mal quips with a roll of his eyes.

And yeah, Rowan knows what Mal’s saying, but all he can think is that this guy better not have a bigger dick than he does.

“So how’s this going to work?” Rowan asks. “Do you have a plan for the scene?”

“Pretty standard stuff—gagging, wrist restraints, and spanking.”

“I assume we’re going to do it raw like usual?” Steven asks, a glint in his eye.

“Condoms,” Mal replies curtly.

Rowan’s heart swells.

“Shame, but all right.”

There’s a thick leather armchair in the corner, several feet from the same platform bed that’s been in all the other rooms so far. Rowan takes his cue from Mal’s nod to retreat to the chair, where he’ll have a front-row seat to watch Mal get fucked by someone else.

As Rowan drops down into the chair, the air in the room suddenly shifts.

“Clothes off,” Steven instructs.

There’s a bite to it that tells Rowan the guy knows how to order others around, but the cadence of it makes it seem more like he’s used to ordering around the hired help. But Mal complies, and with a swift nod, he deftly strips out of his black button-up shirt, letting it fall to the floor, followed by his shoes and the rest of his clothes.

Seeing Mal naked predictably spikes Rowan’s pulse, but he’s a far cry from being as hard as he would normally be if he were in Steven’s position. The same goes for Mal, Rowan notices. There’s a pulse of interest between his legs, but he isn’t fully hard yet. Rowan chalks it up to nerves, maybe. But then, Mal hadn’t even batted an eye when he’d gotten on his knees for ten men a few months ago, so this might as well be a regular old Saturday night for him. Or maybe he’s bored already with Steven.

In a practiced set of motions, Steven binds Mal’s wrists behind his back with leather cuffs. Something Rowan’s done more than a dozen times himself by now. His fingers twitch with the phantom sensation of cool metal and soft leather as Steven pushes Mal onto the bed.

Mal is facing Rowan, eyes heavily lidded. Intense. The look alone makes him throb in his jeans. Steven climbs on the bed behind Mal, barely looming over him. He shoves his hips against Mal’s bound hands.

“Get me out,” Steven tells him.

“How d’you expect me to do that?” Mal quips.

Rowan tries to force down his laugh, but it comes out a garbled sound that he tries to cover with a cough.

“Same way you’ve done a hundred times, you little slut.”