Page 93 of The Menagerie

“Not as much as you’d think. I’m pretty flexible, so most positions are still on the table except me basically standing upright.” He pauses, snorts a quiet laugh that lifts Rowan’s mood. “’Less you wanna fuck Nosferatu.”

“Well…,” Rowan muses, once again taking the cuffs from Mal. “You do have the same complexion.”

“Oh, fuck off, Campbell.”

He turns away from Rowan, but Rowan catches the smile on his face before he succeeds in hiding it. Rowan snorts, going to grab a new bottle of lube from the supply table while Mal fiddles with the blindfold.

“You wanna wear that the whole time? And the cuffs?” Rowan asks, returning to Mal’s side.

“Can put ’em all on at the beginning, but bind me after we get warmed up.”

“’Kay.”

Thinking forward to what they have planned for the night, Rowan adjusts the sex bench opposite the bed so that the back is upright and there is plenty of room to accommodate them both. They haven’t used it together yet, and hell, Rowan’sneverused one before, and it takes a moment fiddling with the metal pins to get them to lock in position, but he figures it out quickly enough.

Everything is in place. They know what the plan is. Rowan’s got a good sense of how things are gonna go, but…

He hesitates.

Because this part he’s a little unsure how to navigate. It’s been easy enough to strip Mal down or order him to strip himself and get right to it. But while he’s grown considerably more comfortable being an asshole, to put it bluntly, he’s not quite as sure how to dothis.

How to be gentle.Well, gentler. But not too gentle. They’re not making love here, for fuck’s sake. And Rowan’s a little worried that he’s gonna slip and skirt that line rather than continuing to play his usual dominant role.

He wants to kiss Mal. Fuck, he keeps coming back to that, but what could possibly be a better way to praise Mal than with his lips and tongue?

Stop it, he tells himself.You’re just gonna let yourself down.

It’s then that Mal takes initiative and gets things started. He can clearly tell that Rowan’s a little out of his depth with this, and he toes off his own sneakers and socks and nudges them under the platform of the bed.

Rowan snaps back to himself. Right. He’s got a job to do. He’s here for a reason. To help Mal let loose, and in turn to let loose himself.

Exploration. Fun. Orgasms. He’s got this.

Rowan unbuttons the two fastened buttons on Mal’s Henley, revealing a sliver of his toned and tattooed chest. He grabs the hem of the shirt, keeping his touches light, tugs it slowly over Mal’s head, and this time, tosses it on the corner of the bed rather than the floor.

Whatever’s going on with Mal, he doesn’t want to do anything to make him feel worse. He wants to make him forget for a few hours.

As he kneels to tug down Mal’s joggers, he’s met with the unexpected sight of cherry-red silk and lace.

“Oh…,” he breathes.

A rush of heat shoots straight to his cock, making him light-headed and glad as hell that he’s kneeling.

“You wear these for me?” Rowan asks him, dragging his joggers the rest of the way down and coaxing Mal to step out of them, eyes trained on Mal’s panties the whole time.

“Yeah,” Mal tells him. “Said you’d like ’em.”

“I do. Look so good on you.”

With a palm to each hip, he turns Mal around, still kneeling behind him. Drinking in the sight of those perfect cheeks framed in lace.

He’d read something once about how a Dom should never get on his knees for his sub. But that person clearly didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about, because down here, he feelsinvincible.

Feels untouchable as he runs his hands over Mal’s asscheeks, squeezing and watching the skin turn white against the bright red of the panties. Feelsalivewhen he slips his fingertips under the lace-trimmed bands and sees the tiny pink indents where they dig into Mal’s skin.

As he tugs the fabric to the side, Mal starts to press back against him, hands planted on the bed in front of him.

“Uh-uh,” Rowan scolds. “You just stand there and be good for me.”

---