Page 178 of The Menagerie

“Fuck, Mal… you’re hitting so deep. Can you feel it?”

“Yeah, holy fuck….”

It’s unlike anything Rowan’s felt before. Satisfying and filling andfulfilling in a way that he feels down to his goddamn bone marrow.

He picks up the pace, legs rising and falling and generating a slow but steady rhythm, occasionally rocking back and forth and grinding when the pressure of Mal’s cock inside him is too much to take. Finally, after what feels like ages, Rowan lets out an audible gasp, fingers clenching furiously around Mal’s waist as he grinds Mal’s cock against his prostate.

“Ohhh…,” Rowan moans. “Right there.”

“There?” Mal echoes desperately.

“Yeah, fuck…. Feels good.”

Mal groans, straining against his cuffs. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“You always do, Mal.”

Their eyes lock, and Rowan can’t help but run a hand across Mal’s cheek, melting at the way Mal nuzzles into it, eyes fluttering shut. It’s too intimate, and Rowan doesn’t want the contact to end. But he forces himself to, knowing that he can’t handle any more heartache from how badly he wants them to be more than what they are.

He shifts his efforts, focusing now on the feeling of Mal inside him. Rowan’s thighs are straining as he rides Mal to his heart’s content, filling him in all the right ways. It feels so fucking good, hitting Rowan deep and stretching him wide over and over as fast as his legs will let him. Nailing his prostate on every thrust and sending pulse after pulse of pleasure coursing through him.

Mal fucks up into Rowan as best as he can, short, stuttering hitches of his hips that meet Rowan’s ass each time he rises. It reminds him of the day Mal kissed him—how he’d been fucking up into the masturbator with wanton abandonment before collapsing down onto him. And God, Rowan wishes it would happen again. Wishes he could feel Mal’s lips for real and hold him close and kiss him breathless.

Breathless, like he’s getting now just thinking about it. His limbs are aching with exertion, but he feels the pleasure in the base of his spine, and he doesn’t want it to end anytime soon, but he’s getting close. He can tell by the quiver of Mal’s thighs beneath him that he’s nearing his end too.

“Rowan, please… wanna… need to touch you.”

Rowan dips forward, breath ghosting against Mal’s cheek as he reaches to unclasp Mal’s wrists from behind his head.

Immediately, Mal’s hands latch on to Rowan’s hips, nails digging into the skin in a way that makes Rowan’s belly curl with the possessiveness of it. They breathe into each other’s space, a bubble all their own that Rowan’s sure will pop if he exhales a little too hard, eyes locked and sparks crackling between them at the intensity of their gazes.

“Fu-fuck… gonna… Rowan, I need—”

“I got you,” Rowan says, hands raking up Mal’s chest, squeezing at his pecs and ghosting over his neck. Hips never losing rhythm. “No one’s come in me before. Wanna feel it. Feelyou.You gonna give me what I want, Mal?”

“Yeah… wanna….”

He wasn’t sure he evenwouldfeel it. But as Mal spills inside him, he feels the warmth, thefullnesswith every pulse of Mal’s release, and it’s the hottest fucking thing that’s ever happened to him.

And when Rowan comes moments later, with a desperate cry as he releases across his fingers and Mal’s chest, it’s with one hand over Mal’s heart and the other around his throat.

Chapter 11: Choke Me

ROWAN ANDMal bask in the afterglow of their scene, sated and warm and utterly spent.

It’s been two weeks since Rowan bottomed, three since he told Mal about his depression, and he feels better than ever. They’ve been taking things easy the past two weeks, their scenes more praise than degradation or humiliation. More intimate too. Soft touches and free-falling whimpers and so, so much emotion that it makes Rowan’s heart swell almost painfully in his chest.

Rowan wants so badly to tell Mal how he feels. He’s sure now that Mal feelssomethingfor him, so there isn’t really that lingering inkling of doubt anymore, but something still holds him back. It’s mostly to do with the fact that Mal hasn’t made a move yet to initiate anything more. He’s definitely the bolder of the two, at least when it comes to sexual things, so Rowan thought that would translate to romantic things as well.

So often during their scenes or their now-frequent phone calls, the words are on the tip of his tongue. He’s so close to blurting outI’m in love with younearly every time he sees Mal that it’s becoming a real problem. He’s bitten his tongue more times than he can count to stop it from slipping out without his permission.

But would it be so bad? Would Mal react badly? Shove him away with a scoff and a look of disgust? Or would he welcome him into his arms and cradle his face and kiss him till he’s breathless?

Despite how intimately Rowan can confidently say that he knows Mal after months of scening—after months offriendship—he honestly can’t predict how he might react. And that’s what scares him most of all. What makes him bite his lips and tongue and the inside of his cheeks until they’re raw and red. Thenot knowing.

THEY’RE ATthe diner, enjoying a well-deserved dinner, when Mal says something that makes Rowan’s heart stop in his chest.

“I want you to choke me.”

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