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“Can’t.” I do it again, rubbing my aching cock against his.

Precum smears between us, slicking our shafts while his gathers in shining beads at the tip. His cock twitches against mine every few seconds, veins standing out beneath pale skin. My thumb finds the honey-colored mark high on his inner thigh. He doesn't know it's there. Nobody has ever been close enough to tell him, and I decide, with a viciousness that surprises me, that nobody else ever will be.

Before I can study it, Rowan strokes us harder, using the slick mess between us to glide his hand faster.

“Fuck, baby. You’re getting so hard,” I moan, wrapping my hand over his and urging the rhythm quicker.

“I... I didn’t think it could feel like this,” he says, the words hushed and heavy with a wonder that undoes me. “The first time—you…I⁠—”

Rowan is so consumed with the want of me that he can’t even keep his eyes open.

He’s looking at me like I’m the answer.

The first time. This time.

Me.

Every fucking time, it’s me.

I lift his hand to my mouth and wet his palm, watching his face the whole time.

He goes still. Then, without looking away, he does the same to his other hand and brings both back down between us, and the sound he makes when they close around both our dicks tells me he's stopped being embarrassed about wanting this.

And yeah, all my blood rushes to my groin. “Fuck. Your hand feels so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. So does your cock. It’s throbbing so much.”

“Can’t... help it.”

“And when I’m buried deep inside you, mouse, I’ll let you cum. On my cock, where you belong.”

I expect him to pull away from that, but he doesn’t. Instead, he looks up at me with eyes gone so dark they’re almost black.

“Please.” The word catches in his throat. “Keep going.”

Good fucking Light.

I’ll be the first one to fuck him too.

“Good,” I growl, pressing my thumb harder against his jaw. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good you’ll forget how to speak. I’m going to ruin every other touch for you.”

I’m the one holding him down, the one in control, but looking at him like this makes the power shift. I’d let him demand anything of me. I’d let him take every ounce of my focus until there’s nothing left. Everything is on the table if it’s Rowan. He can ask me to jump, and I’ll ask how high.

He might be a fucking traitor, and I’d still come back for more.

It's an addiction. A fever. A catastrophe I'd choose again tomorrow.

I catch Rowan’s wrist and pull his hand away from between us. The sudden loss of friction drags a frustrated sound from both of us.

“Not like this.”

I don’t give him the chance to argue. I wrap a hand around his slender waist, lift him with me, and turn us over until I’m flat on my back and Rowan is straddling my hips instead.

He stares down at me, breathing unevenly, his hands instinctively bracing against my chest.

I reach behind me toward the side drawer, grabbing the lube and tossing it onto the bed beside us.