The loft was dark except for the single bulb swinging above the steel frame of the bed. Marcus stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest, leather harness cutting across his thick pecs. His eyes locked on the younger man kneeling in the center of the room.
"Strip. Everything off. Now."
Jace's hands shook as he peeled away his clothes. The air felt cold on his skin, but the heat in Marcus's stare burned hotter. When Jace was naked, Marcus circled him once, slow and deliberate, boots echoing on the concrete floor.
"Hands behind your back."
Jace obeyed. Thick leather cuffs snapped around his wrists, the click loud and final. Marcus yanked the connecting chain tight, forcing Jace's shoulders back and his chest out. A low growl rumbled from Marcus's throat.
"Look at you. Already hard and I haven't even touched you yet."
He grabbed Jace by the hair and pulled him forward until his face pressed against the front of Marcus's jeans. The bulge there was heavy, thick, straining the denim.
Marcus ground against him once, then stepped back.
"Open your mouth. Keep it open."
Jace's jaw dropped. Marcus unzipped slowly, freeing his cock—long, veined, already leaking at the tip. He didn't thrust. He simply rested the head on Jace's tongue and held still, making him taste the salt and musk without moving.
"Swallow it. All the way. And don't you dare gag unless I tell you to."
Jace took him deep, throat stretching around the girth. Marcus's hand stayed tight in his hair, controlling the pace—slow at first, then deeper, harder, until spit ran down Jace's chin and tears pricked his eyes. Every time Jace tried to pull back, Marcus pushed him further.
"Good. You're learning what that mouth is for."
When Marcus finally pulled out, he hauled Jace to his feet by the cuffs and bent him over the edge of the bed. A broad hand slapped across both ass cheeks, the sound sharp. Jace gasped. Another slap landed, then another, until the skin burned and Jace's cock throbbed against the mattress.
Marcus spread him open without warning. Two slick fingers pushed inside, twisting, scissoring, finding that spot that made Jace's knees buckle. He didn't ask permission. He just worked Jace open, rough and thorough, adding a third finger when he decided it was time.
"Beg for it."
"Please," Jace rasped. "Please fuck me."
Marcus's laugh was low and dark. "Not good enough."
He replaced his fingers with the blunt head of his cock and pushed in one steady thrust, burying himself to the hilt. Jace cried out, body stretching around the invasion. Marcus didn't pause. He gripped Jace's cuffed wrists like handles and started fucking him in hard, punishing strokes that rocked the entire bed frame.
Every thrust drove deep, Marcus's hips slapping against the red handprints he'd left. He leaned over Jace's back, teeth grazing his ear.
"You feel that? That's me owning you. Say it."
"You're owning me," Jace gasped.
"Louder."
"You're owning me, Sir!"
Marcus reached under him and wrapped a fist around Jace's cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. The pace turned brutal, skin slapping, breath ragged. Jace's orgasm built fast and unstoppable. Marcus felt it coming and tightened his grip.
"Come. Now."
Jace spilled across the sheets with a broken shout. Marcus kept fucking him through it, using the clench of his body until he buried himself one last time and flooded him deep. He stayed inside, breathing hard, one hand pressed between Jace's shoulder blades.
After a long minute he pulled out slowly. Cum trickled down Jace's thighs. Marcus undid the cuffs, rubbed the marks on his wrists, then pulled him upright and into his chest.
"Shower. Then you're sleeping here. We're not done."
Jace nodded, legs unsteady, body marked and used and exactly where he wanted to be. Marcus's hand stayed on the back of his neck the whole way to the bathroom, a silent promise that the night was far from over.
