A whisper of breath against the shell of his ear, the hot swipe of a tongue laving its way down the length of his neck, a featherlike drifting of fingers down the ridges of his ribs and he is sucking in sudden, shuddering gasps of air and writhing against the chair he’s been secured to; straining against the confining embrace of the tie-come-blindfold wrapped about his eyes as if by sheer force of will it would unwrap itself and allow him to drink in the sight of his lover.
Hands touched fleetingly at his inner thighs and Ianto self-consciously pressed his legs together, endeavouring to hide himself from Jack’s gaze. The hands came again, lingering longer and Ianto held his breath, biting sharply at kiss-bruised lips as he felt already blush-tinged cheeks darken further- with lust and desire and want and need and- “Jack-,” he breathes out, only to be shushed by the press of a kiss, one that is bestowed upon the taunt muscles of his abdomen and he finds himself unable to speak as Jack’s mouth makes obscenely wet noises as he tongues a trail of kisses down the treasure trail from his navel to his groin.
Ianto groans a breathy moan. Jack’s hands tighten in their hold upon his thighs and Ianto dares not move, or speak; can only pant and plead in nonsensical little whimpers as Jack’s mouth ghosts its way downwards, hovering so temptingly close before pulling away entirely and leaving him gasping- aching- and gnawing at the insides of his cheeks as he tries not to give in and beg and plead and oh god…
He finds his feet tied to the legs of the chair before his mind can even process the idea that his legs have been spread. With hands securely fastened behind his back, Ianto finds himself on sudden and overwhelming display. His cheeks redden several shades further and his chest heaves with the expectation of what is to come. He can feel the bold swipes of Jack’s gaze as the man sits back on his hunches and just stares at him; watching and assessing and drinking in every little twitch of muscle Ianto not-so-consciously makes as he waits… and waits… and…
A shuffle, a whisper of sound; Jack moves, twisting behind him. Gentle fingertips touch at his bared shoulders, stroking so softly he could almost imagine the touch if not for the searing heat he feels radiating off the body stood directly behind him. Ianto licks at dry and pouting lips, his body trembling with expectation as Jack bends over him on the right side to nip experimentally at his shoulder. Ianto gasps. Jack kisses the hurt. Ianto moans. Jack bites at him again, carefully worrying swiftly reddening skin between the sharpness of his teeth before soothing away the spoiling of his flesh with a keenly lapping tongue. Ianto sucks in a juddering breath or two and Jack grins against his flesh.
He whispers something Ianto can’t quite make out before dragging his tongue up the length of Ianto’s neck. The wet trail he leaves sends a tingle of shivers through Ianto as the chill of the air about him touches at his skin. He moans, a soft whisper of sound as he cocks his head to the side, inviting Jack’s mouth to taste him and take of him what he would. He feels the slow drag of Jack’s tongue once more as it slides slowly downwards, retracing its initial path upwards. Ianto’s fingers clench fists, nails digging into the softness of his palms. There is a tightening in his loins, a quiver in his belly that begs to be released- a desire needing to be sated, a body begging to be touched- Jack blows a puff of breath, a soundless laugh, against his neck before leaning in to suckle at that previously abused spot of flesh that sits just at the junction of shoulder and neck.
“Jack-,” Ianto cannot help the call of his name. He wants more. He needs more. Jack pauses. And pulls away. Ianto cries out so softly at the loss, body arching upwards as if to enforce some form of contact from the other man. But none is forthcoming. Oh. oh. please… Ianto mouths the words even if he does not speak them. Won’t say anything further than that one damning call of a name.
The shifting sounds of movement again, and Jack is no longer at his back. Behind the darkness of his blindfold Ianto frowns- unable, suddenly, to locate Jack’s position. His heart picks up the pace from mildly frantic to alarmingly frenetic. Chest heaving, mouth parted wide and on the verge of forming another call of Jack’s name when suddenly- there!- a whisper of air and suddenly Jack is back, standing before him and something has changed.
There’s a certain sort of fission in the air, an expectation that leaves Ianto’s mouth dry, his breath caught in his throat as he feels the intoxicating slide of flesh against flesh as Jack- bare naked Jack- settles himself upon his lap. Ianto bites his lips, doesn’t care if he bleeds himself as he bites back curse words and shouts of- yes, please! Oh god, please!- pleasure, as Jack slides right up till he can touch their straining cocks together, pressing them flush between their bellies as he leans in for a kiss that tears Ianto’s bottom lip away from the gnawing of his teeth and into the heat of Jack’s own mouth.
He moans so wantonly, so eagerly as Jack’s hands slide up through his hair, mussing and tugging as he thrusts his tongue deep into Ianto’s mouth; stealing his breath away. A moan turns to a cry as Jack wrenches their mouths apart and tugs his head backwards so that Jack may lean in and swipe his mouth in tonguing kisses along Ianto’s collarbone, nipping and licking and as if the sharp juts of bone hold the most exquisite of tastes.
Ianto arches, feeling a quiver of friction as Jack rides the movement of his body- pressing closer-harder and thrusting just so and Ianto’s head swims with the dizzying intoxication of desire denied but so desperately wanted. He wants to tell Jack, ask him, urge him, beg him. He bites his lips and scrunches unseeing eyes and tries not to give in. Jack rolls his hips. The movement done with purpose as he continues to lick and lave at Ianto’s collarbone before moving upwards to ravish his neck once more- turning pale white skin to aching redness that will blossom and bruise with the mark of the man he allows himself to be claimed by.
Another roll of the hips and Ianto’s eyes roll behind the darkness of the blindfold; his mouth falls open with a pant of air- a soundless gasp- and he strains against his bindings. Jack says nothing, but Ianto can feel him smiling against his neck. All he has to do… all he has to say… just one little word and it can all be over, he can have his release, just one little… one little…
And it’s game over.
- - -
- - -