Nah, not a caveman. There was something just inherently nice about making a claim on someone, on leaving a bruise or a bite mark. It was sexy, sure, but also it just felt really, really goddamned good when it was consensual. Tony sort of thought of it like Steve was leaving an impression on him, a reminder of affection even if he wasn't even in the same room or building or whatever. So. Yeah. Tony liked the bruises.
He liked the pampering he got afterward just as much, maybe.
Yeah, of course he was slick, Steve had prepped as best he could all while meeting all of Tony's demands and even now he could feel it, a warm wet slide. He didn't mind. It sort of added to everything. "Fuck," he breathed out, and if he hadn't already been ridiculously, painfully hard he would have gotten there for sure over the way that Steve described it, the way Steve so obviously loved it.
He couldn't say that this was a first for him, but he could definitely say it was the best. He told Steve so, practically babbled it like he was so good at doing when he got overstimulated, overwhelmed. "Only me," he repeated then, too. "Better be," that's how he always wanted it to be. And he was swept up in the moment enough to not even consider the fact that it probably wouldn't be the case. "Touch me." Steve wasn't wrong; Tony was needy, he was demanding. But he wasn't selfish, he liked to think he gave as good as he got.