He’s talking out of his ass, to be honest. Doesn’t know shit about Mal’s background other than that he’d been somewhat embarrassed about Rowan knowing his last time, that his dad was probably a piece of shit, and that he’s got a pissy attitude and halfway violent tattoos. But it does something to the other man, judging by the instant spike in Mal’s breathing. He’d be willing to bet there isn’t a drop of gold left in his eyes, completely blacked out by blown pupils.

“I know you want it rough, Mal. And I’ll give it to you….” Rowan cuts off with a sharp, quick series of thrusts before returning to his slow, slow, pace. “But you gotta ask for it.”

And then there’s the tiniest whispered, “Rowan….” Softer than it had been earlier, and fuck if that doesn’t kick Rowan’s own heart rate up a notch or twelve.

“Mmm. You told me what you wanted earlier, before I started fucking you. Now should be no different.”

He had asked him to fuck him a few minutes ago. Told him via text that he wanted it rough. But now Rowan wants to hear him beg. Like he’d done at the gangbang. Like he said he never did for anyone.

And Rowan can probably get him there, if he just—

“Mmmm!”

Perfect. Changing the angle of his hips enough to hit that sweet spot, drag over it in slow, teasing pulls. Rowan keeps Mal’s wrists pinned but drags his other hand over the curve of his spine, sweat beading over his smooth skin.

“Come on, Mal. Only good boys get the cock they want.”

Press. Drag. Whimper.

Then, finally, “Please….” A sweet, low whisper that’s music to Rowan’s ears.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

“I am fucking you.” A roll of the hips, as if to prove his point.

“Fu-fuck—”

“Gonna have to be more specific, Mal.”

Rowan can’t help it—saying Mal’s name. Loves the way it rolls off his tongue, hangs in the air, makes the other man blush. He can see the color spread over the back of his neck and to his shoulders as he fucks into his tight heat.

A low groan, then, “Please fuck me harder.”

Perfect.

Rowan complies, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in, the slap of his hips against Mal’s ass like a gunshot.

“Mmm!”

He knows what Mal wants. He wants it hard and fast, but he only asked for hard, so that’s all he’s gonna get. He keeps his thrusts slow, a long few seconds between each sharp, hard thrust. And it’s good, it’s so good, but Rowan’s hoping he’ll realize that he needs to ask for exactly what he wants soon, because this is driving him crazy.

“Fu-fuck, please….”

Thrust.

“What is it, Mal? This not doin’ it for you?”

Thrust.

“Faster… please.”

Thrust.

“Faster, huh? Shoulda said so.”