Page 89 of Burn this City

“Then leave it.”

“You don’t know what that means.”

“I know what it means to me. I want to feel you.”

Fuck. He should have raised the issue when Jack wasn’t half out of his mind from the restraints. Was Jack in a state to consent to this? Did he really understand? The pros and cons raced through Sal’s mind, but he decided to trust Jack in this. The man had been remarkably clear-minded under much worse pressure. He put the condom packet down and instead lubed up his own cock. “Lift up.”

Jack did, and again, Sal made sure to grip the harness firmly. He shifted underneath Jack’s ass, then steadied his cock at his hole. “Go slow and down.”

And Jack slowly lowered himself, adjusting to where he could feel the pressure, working to get the angle right to allow Sal to enter him. Sal didn’t move, didn’t push or pull, just held and steadied, trying to control his breath when Jack slowly bore down on him. They both gasped when he breached Jack, and Sal kissed Jack’s shoulder while Jack released enough of his weight to slowly, tentatively, impale himself. Sal wished above all else they had a mirror to allow Jack to watch himself.

“Yeah, it’s … intense,” Jack breathed.

“Stop if it hurts. Seriously, we can spend a whole lot more time getting you ready.”

“Noted.” Jack settled more of his weight on Sal’s lap and groaned when he rested on Sal’s thighs. The heat and tightness were dizzying, but more than that were Jack’s breaths that slowly deepened as he got used to the intrusion. Sal placed a hand on Jack’s throat and tilted Jack’s head further back before he kissed and nibbled the taut skin, feeling Jack’s thundering pulse under his lips and around him. He slid his lubed hand past Jack’s hip and curled it around his hard cock.

Jack shuddered. “Not … too much. It’s too much.”

“Might need to put a cock ring around you next time.”

“Might … might be an idea …” Jack breathed for a little while, then ground back against him, making them both gasp. In no time at all, he was moving, fingers helping support his weight against Sal’s hips, and Sal gave him small, sliding thrusts, while holding the harness to steady Jack and anchor him. Jack took to getting fucked pretty easily and quickly, and Sal made sure he only got as much as he could take. He took his cues from Jack’s movement, meeting him when he moved, but didn’t drive or push. Allowing Jack to explore the pleasure while holding him, and letting him work for it, was a complete mindfuck even for Sal and tested his self-control to the limit.

Still, while Jack chased orgasm, he couldn’t quite get there—yet. He thrust backward, moaning and almost recklessly hard, and while Sal was close, he held back because this wasn’t the time to tip Jack over and fuck him as hard as he could. Not this time, and maybe not for a while.

“Want to come, Jack?”

A swallow. “Yes … feels like …”

“Takes more practice.” Sal pulled him back against himself all the way. One hand around Jack’s throat, another around his cock, he worked the tip with the same harsh movements that Jack used on himself when he jerked off. He increased the pressure against his throat enough to make Jack feel his pulse, but not constrain his breathing.

Jack came gasping, shuddering, his whole body tensed, and it almost pushed Sal over the edge too. Ah, hell, he let his tightly wound control go, and thrust hard a couple of times into Jack’s impossibly hot tightness and came too. He had to hold onto the ropes now to steady himself, and was relieved when Jack ground back against him. Sal’s orgasm crested and left him as sweaty and shivering as Jack. He stayed inside of him for a while longer, caressing the bound body on top of him, holding him, until he trusted his voice again.

“That okay?” Jack asked, voice rough as if he’d screamed.

“Is that your praise kink?”

“I didn’t … push you too much, did I?”

“Jack.” He kissed the sweaty skin right below Jack’s ear. “You can push all you want. I just wanted to be the responsible one in the room, that’s all. But I don’t think I’ve hurt you.”

“No. I think I’d … like to lie down though. I feel light-headed.”

“Yes, of course.” He moved away enough to have better access to the ropes. Right after an orgasm, his mind was scrambled enough that loosening the knots represented much more of a challenge than tying them. Though his fingers were sweaty and trembling, he focused on undoing the ropes first, and then helped Jack stretch out. He checked him for rope burn or bruises—his rope marks would fade quickly. Sal paused to appreciate the marks around Jack’s chest and especially around his upper arms and caressed them. Jack lay down on his back and took several deep breaths.

“I think I … get why people are so into ropes. You miss them when they’re gone.”

“I’d say you’re definitely into ropes.”

Jack gave a languid smile. “How did you get into it?”

Sal gathered the rope and tied it, then fastened it and dropped it on a chair. “Catia was a fantastic rigger. Turns out, rope in the right hands means you can do whatever you want even with a guy who’s bigger and stronger. Up until then, my skills in bed were limited to shit like fuzzy handcuffs.” He chuckled.

Jack smiled warmly at him. “After this, I don’t think I’d settle for less.”

“Definitely get lovers who know their shit. Not worth working with amateurs.”

“Not interested. If you’ll have me, I’ll stick to this.”

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