The ropes dug into Jake's wrists, thick and coarse, holding his arms stretched tight above his head against the wooden headboard. His ankles were spread and lashed to the bedposts, leather cuffs biting into his skin, keeping his legs wide open. Naked, cock already half-hard from the anticipation, he watched Marcus circle the bed like he owned every inch of him.
Marcus was still dressed, black jeans hugging his thighs, shirt sleeves rolled up to show his forearms. He stopped at the foot of the bed and grinned down at Jake's exposed body. "Look at you. All tied up and nowhere to go. That dick's twitching already."
He climbed onto the mattress and ran one rough palm up Jake's inner thigh, stopping just short of his balls. Jake's hips jerked, but the ropes kept him pinned. Marcus laughed low and mean. "Easy. We got all night."
His hand finally wrapped around Jake's cock, firm and dry at first, giving one slow stroke from root to tip. Jake groaned, the sound raw in his throat. Marcus worked him steady, thumb dragging over the head on every upstroke, spreading the first bead of precome. He kept the pressure light, enough to make Jake's shaft swell and throb but not enough to push him anywhere close to coming.
"Fuck, Marcus, tighter," Jake rasped.
Marcus shook his head. "You don't get to ask. You just take what I give." He squeezed harder on the next stroke, fist sliding faster now, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. Jake's abs tightened, muscles flexing as he fought the urge to thrust. Every time his hips tried to rise, the ropes snapped him back down.
Marcus edged him like that for long minutes, bringing him right to the edge then easing off completely. He let go and just traced one fingertip along the underside of Jake's cock, watching it jump and leak onto his stomach. "Look how much you're dripping.
Pathetic. You love being tied down and milked, don't you?"
Jake's answer was a broken moan. Marcus spat into his palm and went back to work, now using both hands—one gripping the shaft in a tight ring, the other twisting over the head with every stroke. The wet sound was filthy. Jake's balls drew up tight, his cock pulsing hard in Marcus's fist, but Marcus stopped again, fingers pinching just below the head to cut off the orgasm.
"Not yet," Marcus said, voice calm and dirty. "I want you begging first."
He started again, slower this time, long deliberate pulls that made Jake's whole body strain against the bondage. Sweat slicked Jake's chest. His cock was dark red, veins standing out, the head shiny and swollen. Marcus leaned in close, breath hot on Jake's ear. "Tell me how bad you need to come. Say it."
"Please," Jake gasped. "Fuck, please let me come. Your hand feels so fucking good. Don't stop."
Marcus rewarded him with faster strokes, fist flying now, the other hand reaching down to cup and roll his balls. Jake's thighs trembled in the ropes. Every muscle was locked tight, pleasure building sharp and urgent. Marcus kept him there, right on the brink, until Jake was cursing and pleading, voice hoarse.
When Marcus finally let him tip over, it was with a brutal, perfect grip, stroking him through it without mercy. Jake came hard, ropes of come shooting across his stomach and chest, some hitting his own chin. Marcus kept pumping him until Jake was shaking and oversensitive, still tied and helpless.
Marcus wiped his hand on Jake's thigh, then started unbuckling the cuffs. "Good boy. Next round we use the spreader bar."
Jake lay there panting, already half-hard again at the promise. The night was just getting started.
