He moves his hand, sparing him the further torment of that pressing thumb, but it's only to slap his asscheek. Ppft.

"Who doesn't like foreplay?" Bruce gets more of the oil, a messy application that nevertheless does the job of helping things along. "Are you like that with women?"

Slicked up extra, he feels less like he's going to wrench something truly pained out of him by rolling his hips forward in a proper stroke, holding the notch of one hipbone firmly. John's still so tight, a strangling vice of heat, perfectly contained here for him. The ball gag is still scattered off to one side, but honestly, Bruce would have only been really tempted to use it if the other man had gotten particularly mean. The kind of control that gets him going isn't the kind that asks for a silent, blank vessel to fuck.

"I'd watch you." Drawing back out, pushing in. Watching his cock slide into him, deep then deeper, snapping his hips when he's just about flush with his ass. "Fucking a woman. Sit right behind you with my hand on your neck."