Page 57 of The Menagerie

Rowan lies on his side, running a hand over Mal’s shoulders and back. He thinks back to what Mal said he needed for aftercare—talking him down, light touches for any kind of impact play. While he only spanked him a few times, he was pretty rough for most of the night. He lightens his touch, fingertips barely ghosting over Mal’s skin but still firm enough to not be ticklish, if Mal is.

There’s a tiny trickle of warmth in his belly at the thought of this gorgeous, sexy, confident man being ticklish that Rowan forces down because it’s a little too much…somethingright now. A little too much.

“You did so good, Mal,” Rowan tells him in a low voice. “I’m so proud of you.”

A barely-there hum is Mal’s only response, and Rowan takes it as a good sign.

“Loved seeing you get so turned on. And being good for me, asking for what you needed.” He strokes through Mal’s hair, the strands damp with sweat but not deterring Rowan in the slightest. “I’m so lucky you trusted me enough to do this with you. See you like this. Fuck, you’re amazing.”

The words tumble out of Rowan’s mouth like they had last week, largely unplanned but no less sincere. Probablytoosincere, if he’s honest, but he’s sure Mal will tell him that later if that’s the case.

A few quiet minutes pass, Rowan continuing to whisper to him while listening to the other man breathe and come down from the vigorous fucking they’d done.

And Rowan himself takes longer than normal to get his breathing and his heart rate under control, the sheer excitement of the night causing his heart to still beat erratically. He feels sated in a way he hasn’t in a long while, even more so than he did after the gangbang. An intense, deep sense of satisfaction at a pretty mind-blowing orgasm. But more than that, at being able to make Mal come again on his own. Being able to make himgood tingly.

Eventually Mal takes a deep breath through his mouth and blows it out through his nose before pushing himself up onto his knees, dipping into a quick child’s pose, then settling onto his heels, palms pressed flat to the bed. Exactly like he had done after the gangbang. Rowan can’t help but wonder if the position is somehow grounding for him. A way of easing himself back into his surroundings.

Rowan’s suddenly aware of his own body, muscles sore like they are after a tough workout. He’ll definitely need to stretch later. He tenses his quads while still lying on his side, feeling the pearls of come and lube making his pubes stick to his groin. With a groan he rolls off the bed, knees wobbling a bit as his feet touch the floor, and grabs washcloths and water bottles for himself and Mal.

They hydrate and clean themselves off, Mal pulling a face as he wipes between his asscheeks, undoubtedly getting a cloth full of lube and Rowan’s come. Rowan’s never had someone come insidehimbefore, but he knows how messy lube alone is and never envied his partners when they inevitably had to clean up Rowan’s mess themselves.

Now clean, they wipe and sanitize the bed together, considerably less messy this time than it had been after the gangbang. The ease of cleaning the leather pad almost makes Rowan wish he had one at home, but he still much prefers the softness of a real mattress and sheets to the somewhat clinical feeling of the pad.

Mal retrieves his clothing from the floor, giving them a cursory shake off while Rowan retrieves his own pile of clothing, partially from the bed and partially from the floor where they’d been knocked while he and Mal fucked.

Rowan throws on his briefs and tank top while he watches Mal turn his clothing right side out. The jockstrap hangs loose around his hips from where Rowan had stretched it out, and he feels a slight pang of guilt about it, even though Mal had told him he could pull on it. But he still doesn’t seem to mind, eventually pushing it off and letting it fall to the floor before crumpling it up and tossing it in the trash bin under the supply table.

“You hungry?” Mal asks as he comes back to the bed and scoops up his clothes.

“Starving.”

“Cool. Meet me at the bar in twenty.”

Rowan gives him a thumbs-up rather than replying verbally, which earns him an exaggerated eye roll as Mal turns to leave the room, this time fully naked.

He can’t help but balk.Andadmire the view of Mal’s backside as he swaggers out the door. Completely at ease. Confident. Rowan’s gone through phases of shame and pride in his own body throughout his life. Now he feels good. He’s healthy, not overexerting himself. Eating regularly. Taking his meds. Staying stable. Stayingsane. And all that has led him to his current figure, toned in the ways he likes but with enough bulk to know he’s not going to wither away.

Shaking his head to clear that line of thought, he makes his way out of the Gold Room and toward the changing room, the thumping bass from the bar fading away as he retreats farther down the hallway.

In the changing room, there are a few people in varying states of undress going about their business, though Mal isn’t among them. Rowan wonders at that while he finds an empty shower stall, grabs a neatly-rolled towel and a travel-sized bar of soap from the basket outside and stashes them on the cedar bench inside the stall before closing the heavy curtain.

The stall looks pristine, white subway tiles lining the interior of the shower, gleaming golden fixtures. It’s a bit much for Rowan’s taste, but he can’t deny that it looks good. Expensive, as he’d expected.

He peels off his tank and briefs before turning on the water and setting the temperature to something shy of molten. And when he steps under the spray, it feelsheavenly, the water pressure a perfect downpour against his neck and chest. It feels so much like a massage that he bows his head and lets the water rain over him and cascade down his back, soaking him instantly and washing away the last remaining evidence of his and Mal’s time together.

The idle chatter of the other men fades away until there’s only the pleasant sound of rushing water and the memory of Mal’s moans in his ears. He lets himself relax fully, feels his tense muscles ease with the heat and the pounding water as he replays everything that just happened in his mind.

Mal is so fucking perfect in a way that Rowan’s never encountered before. Sure, he’s had some great sex in the past and been with partners who knew what they liked and had a good time, but Mal is…different.He’s confident and completely unashamed of what he likes, and from the start it drove Rowan crazy in the best way. And Mal knows exactly how to push to get what he wants, but in a way that never makes it feel like he’s the one calling the shots. Well, no more than a sub normallyis in a Dom/sub scene.

He can’t help but wonder exactly how much Mal’s done this. How many people he’s been with. When he started experimenting with things beyond vanilla. How long it took him to figure himself out and learn what he likes. How togetit. Because despite Rowan’s own confidence when it comes to sex, it’s obvious that Mal’s light-years ahead of him in the BDSM scene.

But Mal seems fine with Rowan being somewhat lacking in experience. If anything he seems almost eager to show him the ropes, and Rowan can only hope that the trend continues the more they do this. Hopes he doesn’t reach a plateau and make Mal lose interest.

Rowan starts scrubbing himself clean and thinks that really, it’s exactly that kind of thought he’s always needed to kick his competitive nature into overdrive, his determination to be the best fucking Dom Mal’s ever had.

Tonight Mal had clearly enjoyed himself. He seemed to oscillate between pushing back against and obeying Rowan’s orders, which to be honest, Rowan’s not sure is a good or a bad thing. He’s going to have to do some more research later and talk to Mal about whether he should be aiming to keep him in subspace for the whole session, or if it’s normal to dip in and out of it. So far he’s really only seen short glimpses of it. First at the gangbang and then a few times earlier tonight.

For now he assumes that it’s normal to slip in and out of that submissive headspace, especially since they’re still getting used to each other. He dwells on that, knowing that at the very least he’s not making up their chemistry. They seem tofit, and that thought carries Rowan through the rest of his shower.

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