Side by Side: A Paranormal MMM Daddy/little Romance (Forest Edge Book 2)

by Alexis Woods

  “Sure.” Brian pushed with his legs, carefully starting a controlled rock of the chair. He caressed whatever body part his fingers met, enjoying the reciprocation by Dylan for a few minutes in silence before he asked how the playdate went.

  Dylan lifted his head and gave Brian a lazy smile. “It was fun. Ry showed me around the house and all his artwork. He’s so talented. I remember him always drawing and stuff, but not that he was so good. His playroom is amazing! All those supplies for him and Marco.”

  “I helped Eli unpack and set up the art stuff for Ryan. One of those handprints on the door is mine.”

  “That’s cool!” Dylan pecked his cheek and got comfy again. “We played in there for a while before lunch. Jon let us eat in the gazebo. Their backyard is so pretty with all the flowers and shrubs.”

  “Did you play in the playground, too?” Brian lifted a hand to push a rogue lock of Dylan’s hair off his face. The soft strands refused to stay put, falling back into place and covering one of Dylan’s eyes.

  “Uh-huh.” Dylan nodded, rubbing his cheek against Brian’s collarbone, breath warm on his neck. He shifted again, leaning heavily on Brian’s chest. Brian didn’t mind, the delicate weight of the crane shifter no matter for his brawny frame. Dylan yawned and wiggled. “Jon even let Coyote play. He’s good for Ry. I’m glad he found them.”

  “Yeah,” Brian whispered. “Me, too. Alpha Eli needed someone to care for.”

  “And Christian,” Dylan replied in a slow cadence, “has us now.”

  Brian nuzzled the top of Dylan’s head with his chin, letting the sweet young man nap in his arms.

  Jon poked his head out a few minutes later. “Okay?” he mouthed.

  Brian nodded once, too tired to do more, Dylan’s warmth an addiction he craved. Not wanting to disturb his dozing bird, he closed his eyes and relaxed into the chair, letting the day’s anxiety leech away as sleep overtook him.

  Chapter 16

  Dylan

  Dylan knocked on Christian’s office door as soon they arrived home. Christian glanced at him, closed the folder he had open on his desk, and put aside his pen. He pushed his chair back and patted his thigh. Dylan rushed across the room to sit on Christian’s lap.

  Two in one day. He giggled, amused with himself.

  “Little bird,” Christian cooed snuggling Dylan tight to his chest, “did you have a good time with Ryan today? Where’s Brian?”

  “He wanted to get dinner started. He mumbled something about making one of your favorites.”

  “Mmm. I have a lot of favorites. He’s an excellent cook. Whatever it is will be delicious. Now tell me about your day. You stayed later than I thought you would. I expected you both to be here when I got home.”

  “I fell asleep in Brian’s lap. We were talking on the front porch, rocking in one of those amazing chairs—can we get one?—and boom! Out like a light. Totally my fault, Daddy, that we came home late.”

  “It’s all right.” Christian lightly scratched Dylan’s nape. “As long as you had fun.”

  Dylan bounced on Christian’s legs, hyper-boy training drifting to the surface. “So much fun. He gave me a tour of the house, and we created finger paint masterpieces in his awesome playroom. So many art supplies. Ryan is in heaven. We had lunch in the gazebo and after lunch, we played in the playground with Coyote. He’s super cute all fuzzed up.”

  “Cuter than me?” Christian made with the big eyes and mock affront.

  Dylan gently slapped his chest. “Silly, Daddy. You’re way cuter—Brian, too. Ooo... Can we do that again soon?”

  “Definitely. Maybe after dinner, shifting and then bathtime for my darling little bird?”

  Dylan grinned. This was his chance to bring up Brian being a sub. “Your little bird and your boy?” He batted his eyelashes.

  Christian’s hands froze in their ministrations as he stared off into space. He moistened his lips and then tilted his chin down to speak. Dylan melted under Daddy’s lustful gaze. “That’s a splendid idea. Why don’t you go let Brian know our plans while I finish up here and make some preparations for later?”

  “ߴKay, Daddy.” Dylan slid off his lap, his heart skipping. He moved towards the door, but remembering he forgot to give a proper goodbye, he spun around and gave Christian a fast kiss on the lips.

  “Thank you, darling.” Christian smirked and applied a little encouragement to Dylan’s ass.

  Dylan eeped, arched his back, and covered his butt as he scurried for the doorway. “Dad-dy!”

  Dylan whipped around the corner and slid on the kitchen floor, plowing into Brian standing at the counter, his hands deep inside a large metal bowl. Off balance, Dylan grabbed Brian’s arm. The muscle tensed in his grip, lending him leverage to stay on his feet.

  “Thanks, B,” Dylan chirped. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

  Brian grinned down at him. “No worries. What’s the rush, anyway?”

  Dylan danced around, spinning in a circle. “Daddy said after dinner we can shift again and then take a bath.”

  Brian’s smile faded. “That’s nice.”

  “Nooo. You don’t understand. We, as in you and me, and Daddy supervises.”

  Eyes flashing amber, Brian gaped. “Really?” His grin returned full force.

  “Yup!” Dylan wiggled, and Brian laughed. “I’m very excited.”

  “I see. You wanna put some of that energy to work helping me get dinner ready.” When Dylan nodded, Brian asked him to scrub a few baking potatoes.

  “What are you making?” Dylan asked, taking the vegetable scrubbing seriously while peering into the bowl of crumbled ground beef dotted with spices and covered in breadcrumbs and raw eggs.

  “Meatloaf.”

  Dylan doubted the validity of Brian’s earlier statement. “That’s Daddy’s favorite? It looks gross.”

  “The prep is kinda gross, but it’ll taste amazing once it’s cooked.”

  “If you say so. I’ve never had it before. It’s been fun trying all these new foods.”

  “You grew up in a very food-restricted house, huh?” Brian dumped the ground beef into a roasting pan, then patted and pressed it into shape.

  Pursing his lips, Dylan moved to the side so Brian could wash his hands, then watched him drizzle tomato sauce over top of the meatloaf, cover the pan, and place it in the oven. He handed over the washed taters. Brian stabbed them each five times with a fork, then rolled them into the oven beneath the meatloaf. Once Brian had the oven closed and the timer set, he turned to Dylan, brows arched.

  Dylan tilted his head back and forth, debating how best to answer. “Yeah, kinda. Dad was a vegetarian. A lot of crane shifters are. Purity of spirit, or some nonsense. In defiance, I always ordered a hamburger whenever we went out to dinner. Dad hated it, Mom… eh, she didn’t really care either way. She wouldn’t eat meat in front of him, though.”

  “Understandable. And, just so you know, I would totally cater to whatever you want.” Brian’s gaze relayed the conversation was about more than food.

  Dylan’s desire for the powerfully built fox spiked. He’d been thinking on and off all day about Brian since he’d spoken with his brother. If he was waiting for just the right time to try, the moment of reckoning had arrived. “Really? That’s so sweet, ߴcause there is something I want.”

  “Anything.” Brian moistening his lips with his tongue caused all sorts of fun images to parade through Dylan’s mind.

  “That’s a fairly broad term. Anything could have devastating consequences.” He closed the gap between them with a single step.

  Brian ducked his head, tucking his arms behind his back and placing his feet shoulder-width apart. Classic standing submission pose, if all those websites were to be believed. “I trust you.”

  Dylan sucked in a sharp breath. He’d only met Brian a few days ago. Trust couldn’t be established that quickly, could it? Personally, he only trusted himself and Ryan. That’s all. That Brian trusted Dylan to take care of him, to not hurt him, was breathta
king. He would do his damnedest to not break that trust.

  Dylan laid his fingertips on Brian’s shoulder and drew them lightly down the fox shifter’s bare arm. He mapped the indents of bicep and tricep, the curve of elbow, the width of wrist. He walked behind Brian, caressing the wide expanse of shoulder, tickling the fine hair of Brian’s nape, and traveling the bumpy distance of spine until he reached the waistband of Brian’s slacks.

  He circled to the front and appraised Brian’s outfit. He looked good in his work clothes. A short-sleeve black polo, a little red fox logo over his heart overtop of a pair of black pants. A significant bulge strained the zipper.

  Dylan cupped Brian’s erection. “Is this for me?” he teased, sucking his lower lip between his teeth. Brian’s slight nod gave Dylan confidence to continue. “What else is for me, hmm? Take off your shirt, let me see what you’ve got.”

  Brian peeked at him but reached over his shoulder and hauled his shirt over his head.

  “Fold it and give it to me.” Dylan held his breath as he held out a hand. Brian neatly folded his shirt and passed it to Dylan. “Good boy. Oh, there’s a smile,” he praised. “You like that, me calling you boy? Not just Christian.”

  “Yes, Dylan.”

  “And so proper.” Dylan swept his palm over Brian’s hair, watching for any more telltale signs he was on the right track. “I like when you say my name. I’m not Daddy material, and Sir makes me sound old.”

  Brian’s shoulders shook, suppressed laughter making him shake.

  “Don’t make fun of me,” Dylan gently chided. He wasn’t mad, not while he was riding his current high. Brian continued to shake, tiny wisps of mirth escaping his mouth. “Hmm. Naughty boys get punished, and you’re being naughty laughing at me. Punishments might be in order.”

  Brian froze. “What kind of punishments?”

  Dylan detected a timid note of fear in Brian’s tone. “Oh, I don’t know. There’re ones I think you’ll like, and other ones not so much.”

  “What kind would I like?”

  The corner of Dylan’s mouth quirked. “Servicing me.”

  Brian gasped. “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind that. What wouldn’t I like?”

  “Spankings?” Dylan noted Brian’s shiver and smirk. Nope, he wants that. Something else, then. “A time out.” A frown this time with the suggestion. “Orgasm denial.” A scowl creased Brian’s face. Brian’s minute expressions gave Dylan all sorts of hints and ideas. But, he wasn’t really upset, so he chose the servicing route.

  “On your knees, Brian.”

  The grace in Brian’s movements amazed Dylan. How could a big man, an alpha fox, move so effortlessly? Dylan always thought of himself as light on his feet, but Brian easily matched his poise and dexterity. Thunderstruck, he gazed down at the man kneeling for him.

  Brian rested his palms on his thighs, head bowed, his back straight. Dylan couldn’t resist touching him again: fingertips to ears, to cheeks, to chin, which he raised to look past Brian’s half-lowered eyelids to the evergreen orbs beneath. “Beautiful. Thank you.”

  Those green eyes disappeared a moment to reopen brighter, his fox glowing under the praise. Dylan couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have contracted with Christian, who unknowingly had this lovely sub living right upstairs. An unexpected bonus which had him discovering new dimensions of himself. When he examined his sexuality, he’d thought he’d known all there was to know, accepting his desire to wear feminine clothing and makeup. But faced with a man on his knees waiting for Dylan to give him an order…

  Addicting.

  Intoxicating.

  Powerful.

  Everything he’d seen in videos and fantasized about, but never thought he could have.

  “I want your mouth on my cock. Do you want that, Brian?”

  Brian’s hands curled, nails scratching fabric. “Yes, Dylan, please.”

  Dylan reached behind his back to unzip his skirt, the tight fabric an encumbrance he wanted gone.

  “May I?” Brian asked, fingers twitching towards him.

  He wants to touch me, but he’s being a good boy. He deserves a reward. Dylan turned slowly, then twisted back to look over his shoulder at Brian. “You may.” He straightened, giving Brian a respite from his sharp gaze. Though barely able to discern Brian’s light touch, he could, however, feel the fabric around his waist loosen as the latch unhooked and hear the clicks of the zipper being drawn down. The skirt dropped a few inches and then slowly continued its descent to the floor.

  He stepped out of the fabric and was about to turn around when Brian’s hands landed on his hips and a puff of warm air blew onto his balls. “Someone is taking liberties not given,” Dylan scolded and tsked. He spun in Brian’s grasp, catching the fox shifter’s wrists before he could pull away and repositioning them on the fronts of his thighs.

  Brian seemed stunned, maybe as much as Dylan was. It wasn’t like he hadn’t touched Dylan before, but the dynamic was new, and they’d never touched sexually before without direction from Christian. They hadn’t discussed this possibility. This act of two and not three, but Dylan shook off his doubts. He was in charge, and Brian required instructions.

  Dylan cupped the back of Brian’s head and pulled him into his crotch, his erection tenting the full leg mantyhose and the lace panties underneath. Brian needed no words to nose at his cock, breathing deep, and sighing as he took in Dylan’s scent. Dylan let him have at it for a few minutes, glancing at the oven’s clock to see how much time he had left. Plenty, he happily noted.

  Brian skimmed his palms up and down Dylan’s thighs until Dylan decided he’d rather have skin to skin contact. He pushed Brian away and stuck his thumbs into the waistband of his leggings. Dylan shimmied them over his dick, careful not to take the panties too. He left them around his knees, handicapping himself, but since he wasn’t planning on walking anywhere, figured they were fine. Plus, the binding excited him in a surprising and exotic way.

  Dylan tapped his thighs. “You may continue.” Brian, who had been sitting still and watching, now leapt forward, returning to his prior position. Dylan caressed Brian’s hair, often dropping to touch his ear or cheek. Without the leggings, he could better feel Brian’s warm breath, the wet tip of tongue when Brian dared a lick, the damp press of lips through the lace of his panties.

  “Such a good boy,” Dylan murmured. He adjusted his cock from sideways to upright, allowing Brian’s adoration to center on the underside of his shaft. His cockhead, sticking out the top of the low-rise panties, demanded attention. “Suck the head.”

  Brian knelt higher, opening his mouth over the head of Dylan’s erection. He licked at the slit, hummed at the taste, then took Dylan’s cock into his mouth. Dylan moaned at the sensation of wet heat enveloping him. Gentle pressure pulled his cock taut, released to be stroked by an agile tongue. Dylan closed his eyes and lost himself in the pleasure Brian gave him.

  Fabric brushed Dylan’s back, and two hands slipped under his shirt. Startled, he leaned back against Christian’s wide chest, surprised he hadn’t heard or seen him enter the kitchen. “Hey, Daddy.”

  Brian stopped, but Dylan wanted more. He held Brian to his cock, nudging him to continue. Christian might be in charge of both of them, but right now Dylan was the Dom to Brian’s sub. He doubted it would last much longer with Christian present, but at least now Dylan knew he could, and would again in the future.

  “You two look beautiful together, I couldn’t help but want in on the action.” Christian nuzzled Dylan’s temple. Dylan tipped his head back, pursing his lips, demanding a kiss given quickly. He groaned under the dual sensations of lips expertly working his mouth and cock.

  Christian pushed Dylan’s panties down, circled the base of Dylan’s dick, and held it for Brian to suck. “Put your hands around my neck,” he whispered into Dylan’s ear.

  Dylan interlocked his fingers behind Christian’s head. While he did, Christian took over keeping Brian steady, his grip on Brian’s hair strong and secure
. Brian’s muffled groan vibrated around Dylan’s length, shooting a bolt of pleasure through him. Knees weakening, he sagged, thankful when Christian grabbed him around the waist to hold him upright.

  “I’ve got you,” Christian murmured, lips pressing to Dylan’s neck and shoulder. “I’ve got both of you.”

  The words sounded like a promise, and Dylan hoped they were. If Christian had him—them—then he didn’t have to worry about contracts and living arrangements or returning home unless he wanted to visit. He liked living among the foxes and other shifters, even if he was technically a prey animal. As long as Christian was his only predator… A bubble of laughter rose and escaped.

  “I mean it,” Christian said, grip tightening around Dylan’s cock. His Daddy had taken his joy in the wrong way, and Dylan hastened to explain.

  “I know, I know. I wasn’t laughing at what you said. I know you mean it, and I’m thrilled. I’m happy.”

  “Good.” Christian released Dylan’s shaft to go lower, tracing Brian’s swollen lips before tugging on Dylan’s balls, a finger tickling his taint.

  Dylan mewled. He wanted Christian there: fucking him while Brian continued to blow him. “Please.”

  “You beg so nicely. You want me, don’t you?” Christian’s filthy words felt like a caress everywhere on Dylan’s body at once.

  Yes, he’d beg. However much, however long, Dylan would beg to have these men. “Please, Daddy, yes. Want you to fuck me. Want Brian’s mouth on my cock. Wanna come between you.”

  Christian made fast work of the buttons on Dylan’s shirt, stripping him of it, and letting it float to the ground. “Brian, lube.”

  Brian leapt to his feet and raced out of the kitchen. Dylan giggled, listening to the pounding on the stairs. Daddy’s firm grip on his cock tightened, and with Brian’s saliva thick on his shaft, Dylan thrust lazily, sending zings of desire along his spine. Brian returned, breathing hard, and handed the bottle to Christian, then resumed his position, taking Dylan back into his mouth. He kneaded Dylan’s thighs, each swallow applying rippling pressure to Dylan’s cock.