He's going to lose his mind like this, and it's going to be Bruce's fault and the bastard isn't even going to care. Trussed up and facing away like this, Constantine can't even tell if Bruce is getting anywhere near close as well, or if he's just going to keep setting the same frustrating pace of sharp, shorter thrusts that are almost agonisingly close to what he wants and yet still not enough.
As Bruce's hand moves to the straps around his arms he finally, finally gets some of what he wants. The feeling of power in Bruce's arm as he pulls John back to meet his thrusts, the thickness of his cock punching out a mix of curses and sharp, panting groans. It hardly matters if Bruce is managing to hit the best angle or not; being held like this and fucked nice and rough does it for him just as much, and he arches his head back into the other man's hand. Bruce hardly need to pull for John to follow his grip, his throat pressing against the bed and certain to have burn marks from it later.
"Christ, just about anything you do seems to get me harder," he admits, and Bruce further proves the matter by following it up with a smack to his thigh, the skin still smarting from the pegs in place.
"God above, yes you're a distracting bastard and I'd lose my bloody mind trying to fuck myself on you and into her at the same time, you'd break me and I'd love every second of it." Like... what he felt like is happening right now, especially when Bruce sinks in and grinds against him, hips flush against his ass. How his own cock hasn't already exploded is beyond him, but he doubts he'll manage much longer with Bruce talking like that in his ear.
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As Bruce's hand moves to the straps around his arms he finally, finally gets some of what he wants. The feeling of power in Bruce's arm as he pulls John back to meet his thrusts, the thickness of his cock punching out a mix of curses and sharp, panting groans. It hardly matters if Bruce is managing to hit the best angle or not; being held like this and fucked nice and rough does it for him just as much, and he arches his head back into the other man's hand. Bruce hardly need to pull for John to follow his grip, his throat pressing against the bed and certain to have burn marks from it later.
"Christ, just about anything you do seems to get me harder," he admits, and Bruce further proves the matter by following it up with a smack to his thigh, the skin still smarting from the pegs in place.
"God above, yes you're a distracting bastard and I'd lose my bloody mind trying to fuck myself on you and into her at the same time, you'd break me and I'd love every second of it." Like... what he felt like is happening right now, especially when Bruce sinks in and grinds against him, hips flush against his ass. How his own cock hasn't already exploded is beyond him, but he doubts he'll manage much longer with Bruce talking like that in his ear.