The air in the dimly lit room was thick with sweat and tension. Jace, a rugged, tattooed beast of a man, leaned against the wall, his leather jacket slung over one shoulder, his dark eyes locked on Ryan. Ryan was smaller, leaner, but his wiry frame rippled with muscle, and the smirk on his face said he knew exactly what he was doing. The bass from the club downstairs pulsed through the floor, vibrating their bones, but up here, in this grimy backroom, it was just the two of them—and the heat was about to explode.
“You think you can handle me?” Jace growled, his voice low and gravelly, stepping closer. His boots thudded against the concrete, and the bulge in his tight jeans was impossible to miss.
Ryan didn’t flinch. He licked his lips, eyes flicking down to Jace’s crotch, then back up. “I don’t think. I know.” He yanked his shirt off in one swift move, tossing it aside, his chest glistening with a sheen of sweat. “Come fucking prove me wrong.”
That was all it took. Jace lunged, slamming Ryan against the wall so hard the plaster cracked. Their mouths crashed together, teeth clashing, tongues fighting for dominance. Jace’s hands were rough, gripping Ryan’s hips, yanking him closer until their hard cocks ground against each other through the denim. Ryan groaned into the kiss, his fingers clawing at Jace’s back, leaving red streaks on his skin.
“Fucking tease,” Jace snarled, breaking the kiss to bite down on Ryan’s neck, hard enough to bruise. Ryan’s head tipped back, a guttural moan ripping from his throat as he shoved his hands into Jace’s jeans, wrapping his fingers around the thick, throbbing length he found there.
“Not teasing now, am I?” Ryan shot back, stroking Jace rough and fast, his grip tight enough to make Jace hiss. The bigger man retaliated by spinning Ryan around, slamming his chest against the wall. Ryan’s palms slapped the concrete, bracing himself, his ass pushing back instinctively.
Jace didn’t waste time. He ripped Ryan’s jeans down, exposing the tight, muscled curve of his ass. “Fuck, look at you,” he muttered, spitting into his hand and slicking himself up. No lube, no prep—just raw, primal need. He lined up, the head of his cock pressing against Ryan’s hole, and with one brutal thrust, he buried himself balls-deep.
Ryan’s scream was half pain, half ecstasy, his body shaking as Jace filled him. “Shit—fuck—harder!” he demanded, voice ragged, pushing back against every punishing thrust. Jace obliged, gripping Ryan’s hips so tight there’d be bruises tomorrow, pounding into him with a relentless rhythm that echoed through the room. The wet slap of skin on skin mixed with their grunts and curses, a symphony of raw, animalistic fucking.
“Take it,” Jace growled, one hand sliding up to yank Ryan’s head back by his hair. “Fucking take it all.” He drove deeper, faster, his cock slamming into Ryan’s prostate with every brutal stroke. Ryan’s knees buckled, but Jace held him up, fucking him through the tremors, through the way his body clenched and spasmed.
“Gonna—fuck—gonna come,” Ryan gasped, his hand flying to his own dripping cock, jerking himself in time with Jace’s thrusts. It only took a few strokes before he exploded, thick ropes of cum splattering the wall, his whole body seizing as he shouted Jace’s name.
Jace wasn’t far behind. The sight of Ryan unraveling pushed him over the edge, and with a final, savage thrust, he buried himself deep, unloading inside Ryan with a roar. His hips jerked, pumping every last drop into him, until they both collapsed against the wall, panting, dripping, spent.
For a moment, there was just the sound of their ragged breathing, the distant thump of the club below. Then Ryan turned his head, grinning through the sweat and mess. “Told you I could handle it.”
Jace smirked, smacking Ryan’s ass hard enough to make him yelp. “Round two says you can’t.
