Burn this City by Aleksandr Voinov

46

Sal slid the card through the lock, and even pushing open the door, he felt the atmosphere inside had changed. It was nothing conscious—most likely it was his imagination because for the first time he had a fair idea what Jack wanted, and the ground under his feet seemed much more solid and reliable. Less of a chance that he’d wade into quicksand or the ground would wash away under his feet.

He hung the “do not disturb” sign on the door handle outside, and closed the door, allowing it an audible click, then he locked it.

He found Jack standing on the balcony with its view over the forest, and walked up to stand next to him. “Always the views with you.”

Jack turned around and leaned against the railing, displaying his stomach, chest and throat, and looked Sal up and down. “I don’t know. This view is maybe even better.”

“What are you going for tonight? I cancelled my dinner plans, so I have time.”

“I was angling for some more surrendering. To make sure it sticks.”

Sal grinned, glad that Jack began to see the playful aspects of it. “Come inside before somebody sees us fucking right here.”

Jack seemed to consider the words, then slowly straightened up and walked back into the room. He’d already shed the jacket, now he opened the buttons on his shirt, pulled it out of his trousers and dropped it on the nearest chair without looking. His gaze was turned inward, as he pulled the undershirt free and dropped it on the floor.

Sal took two quick steps and picked it up, but then changed his plan and stayed low. He dropped fully to his knees and reached up to Jack’s zipper and belt. Jack ran both hands through his hair and broadened his stance when Sal freed him from his trousers. Giving blowjobs was something Sal loved, and he couldn’t wait to get used to Jack’s taste and size.

From the trembling in Jack’s thighs, his sighs and suppressed moans, he could what he liked. He unleashed his bag of tricks, squeezing Jack’s balls, adding pressure to the point behind the balls, rubbing and massaging it, while opening his throat to take all of him. Despite the video Jack had watched proving that Sal could more than cope with a little roughness, Jack never pushed, never simply grabbed him and fucked his throat. They’d have to know each other sexually a lot better before Jack felt that confident, but Sal was okay with that too. As long as his partners enjoyed themselves, he was okay with pretty much anything.

Similarly, Jack lacked the experience of other lovers—he wasn’t trying to control this or break it off when he got close. He was mostly focused on the pleasure and on not losing his balance, while Sal moved more harshly, determined to push Jack over the edge. He used one hand to steady Jack, but the other kept working him, adding friction to the suction. Jack came with a choked sound, grabbed the hand that had been steadying him and squeezed it, while Sal slowed down and drew out Jack’s orgasm while swallowing the final drops. He pulled back and they were both breathing heavily, Sal to get oxygen, Jack to recover.

“That’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

“I now feel inadequate,” Jack said in a low, awed tone.

“I’ll let you practice as much as you want.” Still on his knees, Sal pulled Jack’s trousers and boxers down to his ankles, then helped Jack out of his polished black leather shoes, and then the rest of his clothes. He then sat back on his haunches to study his lover’s body. From the athletic toned muscles that he’d forged with his unrelenting, almost punishing, gym routine, to the fur on his chest and that beautiful cock, the strong jaw line to his kind, intelligent eyes, Jack Barsanti was goddamned perfection. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that Jack had never been touched by anybody, had forbidden himself the pleasure, locked himself away in those most fundamental ways.

“What are you thinking?” Jack asked.

“How lucky I am.” A slight frown formed on Jack’s forehead, so he added, “Not because of your history, or any of this. But that I’ve found you and you trust me.”

“If you’d come to the negotiation table back then …”

Sal laughed. “That would have been a fucking disaster.”

“Probably. I wouldn’t have been able to let my guard down. Not like this. Now … I’m glad I’m alive, and that’s new too.”

“Good. Because I know I’d lose any race to the airport. I should have slashed your fucking tires.”

“You touch my car and I’ll end you. And I won’t need Spadaro for that.”

Sal laughed but sobered quickly and placed a hand against the side of Jack’s face, again struck by the soft expression in the man’s clear blue eyes. “I didn’t think I could have … this again.” This sweet gentle pain of being so close to another soul, of wanting, so badly, to share everything, good days and bad, and life and health, and secrets. To give himself over completely. “And I don’t think a part of me will ever be completely over Catia’s death, but that’s all right too.”

“I …” Jack swallowed, but ploughed on. “Every time you speak of her, it’s straight from your soul. I love that. I love how strongly you feel.”

Fuck, talk about a killing blow. Sal smiled and blinked his eyes clear. His first impulse was to reach for the ropes, considering Jack was already naked, and he couldn’t wait to see the patterns he could draw on the man’s skin. He ran a hand down from Jack’s collarbones to his solar plexus. “Rope?”

“Yes.” Just like that, a calm openness without reservation. If Jack ever did this with anybody else, Sal would definitely brief him beforehand to make sure he was in safe hands, and teach him what to look out for when it came to a rigger, but he also didn’t feel like interrupting the building tension between them with a lecture. He was happy to shoulder the burden, and, besides, while he definitely planned to quite literally turn Jack’s world upside down with some advanced suspension shibari, for the moment he’d stick to the basics.

“Bedroom.”

Jack followed him into the large room. The thick carpet swallowed their steps, but Sal was more intrigued by the four-poster bed. And indeed, considering the posters were solid wood and nicely carved, they gave him options. He opened his toy bag and took out the rope he’d selected for Jack—sky blue, almost electric blue.

Jack looked at the rope and lifted an eyebrow. “For my eyes?”

“Seemed like your color.” He loosened the coil of rope and met Jack’s gaze. “Any requests?”

“You’re way too dressed.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

“What do you normally wear when you do this?”

“Sometimes boots and leather pants. A t-shirt. Sometimes no t-shirt or boots. Sometimes, being barefoot is better when I need some extra grounding. I’m more dressed when it’s going to be less sexual.”

“Then definitely lose some clothes.” Jack grinned.

Damn, seemed he’d been rushing things. Normally, he liked to set the scene for the other person, which included presentation. One thing Sal had learned was to use fake candles because they flickered so authentically as to be indistinguishable from real flames. When asked, he told his lovers, “I want to focus on you, not on the other fire hazard.”

Fragrances were another aspect of it. He would spend some time walking around and sniffing flowers, sheets, and ropers to make sure that everything was just so. At the same time, he'd learned to be subtle. He used leather, wood, tobacco when he was tying up a man, ylang ylang, rose or musk when he was tying up a woman. Sometimes, playmates were assigned a specific scent. Sal’s had been the deep, warm, sweet and bitter smell of dark chocolate, and the rigger who’d taught him would also rub cocoa butter into his rope marks, further marking him as hers.

Sal took a step backward and undressed. He enjoyed how Jack watched him, attentive and appreciative, gaze flickering between his half-hard cock and his face.

Sal pulled the leather pants from the toy bag and put them on. He turned his body just so that Jack could see that he was getting harder, and adjusted himself before closing the belt.

“Better?” He strode up to Jack, picked up the rope on the way and placed a length of rope around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

Jack grinned and responded eagerly. One of his hands went to Sal’s nipple and gently twisted the bar there, the other cupped him in his pants. “This time I want to feel you inside me,” he said in a low voice. “Keep the toys for another night.”

The original plan had been to familiarize Jack with having something inside him and take slow steps from there until he was ready to attempt bottoming. They were in no rush, and Sal was determined to make the first time feel as good as possible. “It’s not exactly like in porn, you know that, right?”

“I’m duly warned, and I consent to getting fucked.” Jack squeezed him. “Even if we need to practice a few more times to get it right.”

Well, he’d check if that held up when things actually started going that way. “All right. You’ll still need to talk to me.”

“I will.”

Sal met Jack’s gaze as confirmation, then moved around him and took the rope with him. The contrast against Jack’s skin was everything, but so was the shift in Jack’s breathing pattern when he began the work. He began slowly, with every touch and slide of the rope a caress that he then fixed in a knot or loop.

It could feel like that—he’d once read somewhere that witches used knots to form and hold spells, and while he didn’t particularly believe in witches—or spells—on a different level he got it—the captured tension and energy, weaving a pattern around and into another person like that, could feel magical. He’d barely started the harness when he noticed that very slight sagging at the knees as Jack relaxed into it.

He walked around Jack, immobilizing his upper arms behind his body, making him push out his chest. Then he set to work on the chest, framing the pecs with two and three lengths of rope. He ran his fingers between rope and skin to check tightness, keeping a very close eye on the natural tone and coloring of Jack’s skin.

He then stepped around Jack again, and worked on the harness. He noticed Jack’s hands opening and closing, until they settled into loose fists. He’d love to add some cuffs to that, but while he could definitely tie Jack down to the extent any small twitch would only tighten the bonds, he was in the mood for something different. He placed knots along Jack’s front, running the rope around him until he’d made a perfectly symmetrical pattern that was loose enough to allow him to breathe, but definitely tighter toward the groin.

He ran the rope nowhere near his ass, but created another loop around his thighs. He made sure Jack couldn’t reach his own cock in this position, then tied off the ends. Jack was slightly swaying on his feet, and widened his stance automatically. His eyes were hooded and his chin had slightly dropped, and his shoulders only held the tension from the position he was in, and with a caress from Sal, those dropped too. He’d be beautiful in predicament bondage which would test that ability to relax and zone out. Sal closed a hand around Jack’s half-hard cock. Jack shivered.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“It’s unbelievable. So … so good.”

“And you’re amazing.” He kept playing with Jack’s cock, tugging and jerking, even gave it a small slap, which rocked Jack’s whole body, but didn’t seem to rip him out of his perfectly blissful state. Another note for later—some cock and ball torture, specifically with shibari that immobilized him, see how far this could be pushed … But right now, Sal enjoyed simply shifting that full-body awareness from the ropes down to Jack’s cock.

He walked around Jack without breaking the touch for more than a second, and leaned into his ear. “I’ll fuck you like this. But not quite yet.” He took a handful of the ropes at Jack’s back, and tightened them, making Jack sway backward, then, because he could feel through the ropes how much Jack was ready to yield to him, he pulled Jack backward toward the side of the bed. “Get on there. Kneel.”

Noticeably dazed, Jack obeyed, and Sal kept hold of the harness at all times. He knew how that felt—guidance, strength, control. Once Jack had moved to the middle, he patted the inside of Jack’s thigh above the knee. “Open wider.”

While Jack obeyed, he took a tube of lube from the toy bag and squeezed some into his hand. He didn’t warm it and when he wrapped his lubed hand around Jack’s cock, Jack drew a deep, fast breath, and then made a small sound as the ropes made him feel that breath.

“Holy …”

“Exactly.” Sal ran his lubed hand over Jack’s cock and worked the tip until Jack was shuddering and glowing with a slight sheen of sweat. He’d pushed his hips forward to chase the sensation as the arousal went from playful to intense. Sal enjoyed pulling him back and down onto his thighs.

Jack caught on quickly and ground back against him. “That’s … God, I can’t think. That’s like in that video.”

“Yeah, I looked at your favorites, but I’m putting my own spin on it.”

“I like your version better.”

Sal laughed softly. He withdrew his hand and added more lube. Jack’s positioning gave him pretty good access to his ass, so he slid his fingers along Jack’s naked skin. When he began to circle Jack’s hole, the man trembled in the ropes, and lifted up but didn’t pull away. He might only believe he was ready, but for the moment Sal took his cues from Jack. One finger went easily, and Jack’s breath stuttered. Sal brushed Jack’s prostate, making him moan out loud. “You sure you want all of me? You could probably get off with just with a couple fingers up your ass.”

“Seems like it’s you who’s scared.”

Fuck, sassy rope bottoms. He wouldn’t get carried away with a virgin, but he added another mental note for some things he wanted to try later.

Sal freed his cock, and guided Jack’s hand to it. “Does that feel scared to you?”

Jack stroked his length with no more than a feathery touch. “Feels like something I need. Now.”

“Careful you don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

Jack laughed. “Even I know not to chew it. I’m good, Sal. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.” He moaned when Sal pushed two fingers into him and pushed back against the intrusion. All right, so maybe they were at the point where they could risk the next step. Sal reached into his bag to grab a condom.

“I know we … haven’t exactly talked about it, but I don’t think we need that.” Jack swallowed audibly. “I mean, I … haven’t done this before.”

“I have, but my tests are current.” Besides, apart from calculated risks with Enzo, he strictly played safe with his various hook-ups; whether he’d known them for a while or not didn’t matter.

“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.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

“I’m still not …” Jack sat up and blinked a few times, clearly trying to focus. “I just want you. The past couple weeks, I had time to think about it, look at other men, ponder … think what I want out of life. Whether I could get back into the closet, shut myself down again, and I’m not interested in other men. I don’t know why. I can see they’re attractive, but I don’t want to have sex with them.”

“Okay.” If Jack was only interested in him, that worked for Sal too. He could be happily exclusive.

“It’s specifically … connected to you. I see you and I want to touch you and kiss you. I see some other man, even an attractive one, and there’s no spark. Maybe because I think I’m falling in love with you, and it doesn’t scare me. It could be that simple.”

The second time that night Jack had used the “l” word, if in a circumspect way. Again, it jolted Sal down to the bones, but not unpleasantly. They’d agreed to try a relationship without even saying the word, talked about rings, and Sal had offered everything he had to offer even before that. It now hung between them, and saying it out loud was really only a formality.

In every way that counted, Jack was special, and none of this felt like a hook-up, or an affair, or a friend with benefits. There was a deeper, wider, richer aspect to all of it, much more encompassing. He also appreciated that Jack told him this with his utter honesty that held no demands or neediness. There was something to be said for falling for a guy who was so secure in himself. And Jack also wasn’t the type to blurt out “I love you” while overwhelmed by an orgasm. No, if he said it, he meant it.

Sal scooted back onto the bed, grabbed Jack’s neck and kissed him. “I love you too, Jack.” They hugged tightly, caressing and kissing, a small world unto themselves. For the first time in what felt like forever, Sal let go and drifted in tenderness, soaking up as much of it as possible.