“Not good enough.”

“Fuck.” Mal grits out, and Rowan sees him ball his hands into fists on the bed. “Come on.”

One final slick thrust and Rowan pulls away, sitting back on his heels until he’s completely separated from Mal’s body.

“Nah, you know what I wanna hear, Mal.”

Instead of the verbal begging Rowan wants, Mal widens his knees again so Rowan has a perfect view of his pink hole closing around nothing. Where it should currently be closing around Rowan’s cock.

“Cute how you think that’s gonna work,” Rowan tells him.

He slides off the bed, turning and making for the toy wall. In reality, he’s not going to get any of the toys. Their talk beforehand made it clear that Mal wants this session to be mostly vanilla, so he’s obviously going to respect that. But Rowan can fake it. Can bluff for the sake of riling Mal up and getting him to beg for his cock.

“Rowan….”

There it is.

That quiet muttered word that’s still somehow loaded with annoyance and resignation, but most importantly, with desire underneath it all.

“Hm?” he hums, turning to look at Mal, who’s not looking at him, head still dipped low to the mattress.

“Fuck me, Rowan.” Louder, but still too quiet.

Rowan returns to the bed, climbs back on, and kneels at Mal’s side. He cups his chin in his hand, turning Mal’s face to look up at him. “Didn’t quite hear you.” With his free hand, Rowan strokes himself in long, slow pulls.

Mal’s entire focus is on Rowan’s cock, lips parting again as if remembering how it felt in his mouth. As he watches Rowan jerk himself, his features relax, brows no longer scrunched together, eyelids no longer narrowed. It takes nearly a full minute, but he’s done fighting.

“I want you to fuck me, Rowan.” This time it’s perfect. Breathy and with an edge to it, but sincere enough that Rowan will give it to him.

He walks on his knees back around behind Mal, then clutches above Mal’s elbows to haul him onto his knees and pull him back against his chest. He crosses Mal’s hands behind his back and switches his grip to fit both of his wrists in one hand—and fuck, he can fit both of them in one hand—freeing his other to line up his cock.

“Good. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

As soon as the first inch is inside Mal, Rowan reaches around to tweak his nipples, the hard buds hot under his fingertips.

“Unnnnnhhhh—!”

And God, as he presses in deeper, it feels like Mal is sucking him in, and he can’t help releasing a low groan, matching Mal’s.

“Yeah, that’s it, Mal,” Rowan tells him. When he’s halfway in, he pulls back out and then works himself deeper, pinching Mal’s nipple between his fingers.

“Fuck,” Mal curses, breathy and low, when Rowan’s fully seated.

“Yeah,” Rowan agrees.