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Jace hears the sound. His breath catches.

“Hands behind your back.”

He brings his wrists together without a word. I loop the band twice around his forearms, pulling until the latex bites into skin, then tie it off with a familiar knot. He tests it once—a brief, sharp pull—and the band holds.

"Good boy," I murmur.

A shiver moves through him; I feel it where my weight presses into his hips.

I take a moment to look at him—spread across the mat, bound, bare, waiting. Then I bring my hand down hard across his ass.

The sound echoes through the gym, sharp and satisfying. Jace's whole body jerks, a surprised grunt tearing from his throat as a pink handprint blooms across his skin. He laughs breathlessly into the mat, the sound muffled but unmistakable.

"Again," he says.

The second slap lands harder, and Jace hisses through his teeth, his back arching slightly, and I reach for the bottle beside his head.

The cap snaps open with a soft click. I tip it over and drizzle the lube generously across his ass, watching it pool in the crease before sliding down between his cheeks. The cold makes him gasp, his hips shifting against the mat as the liquid spreads.

"Fuck," he breathes, and I can hear the grin in his voice even without seeing his face.

I set the bottle aside and press my palm flat against the small of his back, pinning him as I guide my cock against his entrance. He’s tight—always is—and I press in slow, letting the stretch burn.

"Jesus Christ," he groans, voice cracking as I sink deeper. The resistance band strains as he fists his hands. "Fuck, Eli—"

I don’t stop until I’m buried to the hilt, my hips flush against his ass. My hand stays firm on his spine, feeling the tremble there.

"Breathe," I tell him.

He takes a shaky inhale through his nose, and I feel his body give way around me.

"That's it, pup," I murmur. "Just like that."

The tension I've carried all day dissolves into something hotter, something primal. I pull back and drive into him again. The sound he makes is raw, stripped of everything but need.

"Dammit," he gasps into the mat. "Harder."

My hips snap forward, and he cries out, his body jerking against the restraint. I slam into him again, harder, shoving him several inches across the vinyl. He shouts, the sound echoing off the walls, his body clenching tight around me.

"Fuck—yes—"

I fist his hair and wrench his head back, baring his throat. My tongue teases his skin before my teeth find the junction of his shoulder and I bite down, hard. He screams, wild and wanting.

Licking my mark, I taste salt and copper, and growl with satisfaction. There is no thought now; only rhythm, only hunger as I cage him with my arms and fuck into him with long, deep strokes. Each thrust grinds his cock against the mat and his breathing fractures into ragged pants; I feel him tightening, close.

"Eli—fuck—right there, baby, right—"

"Cum for me," I growl against his ear. "Right fucking now, pup."

I angle my hips to hit his sweet spot with every stroke, and Jace shatters beneath me. His cock pulses against the mat, shooting thick stripes of release across the vinyl as his body convulses. A raw, broken keen tears from somewhere deep in his chest, his muscles clenching around me in rhythmic waves that pull me deeper.

That final, clenching pull undoes me. The world dissolves into a white-hot rush as I plunge deep and come, my hips bucking against him in a series of helpless, broken thrusts. For a moment, I’m lost to it; the raw pulse of release, the slick heat of him around me, the way his body holds mine completely.

I stay close, my forehead resting against his sweat-damp back as our breathing gradually settles. Then slowly, carefully, I pull out. Jace makes a soft, wounded sound at the loss. I kiss the nape of his neck before reaching for the knot on the resistance band.

My fingers work the latex loose, unwinding it from his forearms with deliberate care. The skin beneath is already blooming with deep red grooves. I toss the band aside and gather him against me, turning him so he’s lying on my chest as we stretch out together on the mat.

I run my thumb over the worst of the marks on his arm, feeling the raised heat of them. The bite on his shoulder is already darkening into a bruise that will last for days. Jace shivers when I touch it, but he presses against me, a boneless weight of trust.