“Tell me how much you love this,” Rowan demands, curling his hand around Mal’s jaw and coaxing his mouth open to circle his cockhead around Mal’s tongue.

Mal closes his lips around his tip in a filthy semblance of a kiss. “Fuckin’ love it.”

His words, sultry and low and gravelly from having his throat fucked, bypass Rowan’s ears and go straight to his dick, making his stomach clench and his balls tighten like he’s about to blow for fuck’s sake.

And he’s gonna risk it, risk coming early, but, well, Mal said he wanted him to be rough. Said he fuckin’ loves having a cock in his mouth. So Rowan’s gonna give him what he wants.

Once again, he grips Mal’s hair, lines his cock up, and slams home, fucking his mouth fast and hard like he’s gonna do to his ass later on. A teaser. A promise.

“Hm-hm-hm-hm!” Mal groans with every thrust as Rowan’s cock hits the back of his throat and his balls slap against his chin.

His hands fly up to clutch at Rowan’s calves, and Rowan lets him, knowing that he probably needs the leverage and also that Rowan doesn’t want to stop to tell him to keep his hands in his lap.

God, he’s so fucking perfect.

And fuck, it’s too much. Someday he’ll have Mal suck him off and swallow his come, but now he needs to stop. Needs to be inside his other hole again.

“Get up,” Rowan tells him, pulling out and dislodging Mal’s hands from his legs.

Mal obeys instantly, almost too eager, and Rowan would comment on it—whether to praise or chastise, he has no idea—but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t equally as excited. Still, Rowan notes the slight wobble in Mal’s knees as he rises up in front of him.

Once Mal is at his full height, Rowan bends and hooks his hands behind Mal’s thighs, feeling the swell of his ass above, and lifts him quickly, then dumps him backward onto the bed—away from Rowan’s clothes—his weight manageable but still making his quads strain with the effort. Mal’s wide-eyed expression is fully worth it when he hits the pad with a thump, his surprised look quickly shifting to lust.

And seeing him like that—splayed on the bed, chest and cheeks flushed, cock hard where it’s once again concealed by the jockstrap—nearly makes Rowan dizzy with want.

“Anyone ever tell you how good you look on your back?”

Instantly, Mal’s face flushes a beautiful crimson to match the color on his chest.

With a low chuckle, Rowan keeps his eyes on him and climbs on the bed between his legs, which part automatically for him. He settles in a wide, kneeling stance pressed against Mal’s ass. He ruts his cock against Mal’s, spreading his precome and Mal’s spit against the already-damp fabric of the jockstrap. The feeling is both electric and primal, settling somewhere deep in Rowan’s gut.