Mark shoved the door shut behind them, the click of the lock loud in the quiet apartment. "Strip," he ordered, voice low and rough. Jake didn't hesitate. He peeled off his shirt, kicked off his shoes, and shoved his jeans and briefs down in one motion. His cock was already half-hard, curving up toward his stomach. Mark watched every second, then grabbed the black duffel from the closet and dumped its contents on the bed: thick leather cuffs, a coil of soft rope, a spreader bar, and a blindfold.
"Hands behind your back." Jake obeyed, and Mark buckled the cuffs tight around his wrists, checking the fit with two fingers. The leather was warm against skin. Mark pushed him face-down on the mattress, yanked his ankles apart, and clipped the spreader bar between them. Jake's legs were forced open, ass exposed, hole already twitching.
Mark spat on his fingers and shoved two straight in, no warning, twisting deep. Jake groaned into the sheets. "Fuck, yeah. Open up for me." Mark worked him fast and dirty, scissoring, adding a third finger when Jake started pushing back. He pulled out, wiped his hand on Jake's ass, and grabbed the rope. He looped it around Jake's chest, under his arms, then cinched it tight across his pecs so every breath made the ropes dig in. Another length went around his thighs, binding them to his calves so he was folded and helpless.
Mark stripped fast, cock slapping against his abs, thick and veined.
He rolled on a condom, slicked it with lube, and pressed the head against Jake's hole. "Beg for it."
"Please," Jake rasped. "Shove that dick in me. Tie me up and fuck me stupid."
Mark drove in hard, one long thrust that buried him to the balls. Jake shouted. Mark didn't give him time to adjust. He fucked like he meant it, hips snapping, the wet slap of skin loud and filthy. Every thrust rocked Jake forward against the ropes. The spreader bar kept him wide, the chest harness squeezed every time Mark bottomed out. Sweat dripped off Mark's chest onto Jake's back.
He reached under, grabbed Jake's cock, and stroked it in time with his thrusts. "You like being my tied-up fucktoy? That hole's gripping me like it never wants to let go."
Jake could only moan and nod, drooling on the mattress. Mark pulled out, flipped him onto his back, and shoved back in. Now he could watch Jake's face twist, could see his bound cock bounce with every slam. Mark leaned down, bit Jake's nipple hard, then sucked it. His hand wrapped around Jake's throat, not choking, just holding, owning.
"Look at you, leaking all over yourself. Gonna come just from getting pounded while you're trussed up like this?"
Jake's answer was a broken "Yes, fuck, yes." Mark pounded harder, the headboard cracking against the wall. He reached down, thumbed the head of Jake's cock, and that was it. Jake came with a shout, ropes shooting across his own stomach and chest, some hitting the leather harness. His hole clamped down, milking Mark's cock until Mark groaned, buried himself, and unloaded deep inside the condom.
Mark stayed inside him a minute, breathing hard, then eased out. He unbuckled the cuffs and spreader bar, untied the ropes, and rubbed the red marks on Jake's skin. Jake lay loose and wrecked, smiling like he'd won the lottery. Mark wiped them both down with a warm cloth, pulled the blanket over them, and dragged Jake against his chest.
"Next time," Mark muttered, "I'm adding the blindfold and making you wait an hour before I let you come."
Jake laughed, hoarse and satisfied. "Bring it."
