by Alexis Woods
Sweet Mother! Would he be able to stave off his orgasm until Christian was inside him?
Christian’s slick fingers caressed his crack and entrance, a light teasing touch Dylan hated. He pushed his ass out, swiftly realizing his mistake when Brian fell forward to follow. Oops.
“Hold still, little bird,” Christian admonished with a quick slap to Dylan’s butt. The smack was loud but didn’t hurt.
Already too far gone to care about a touch of pain, anticipation had Dylan’s heart racing. The muscles in his stomach quivered, his legs shook, and his cock pulsed. “Daddy,” he whimpered. He wanted Christian inside him. “Please.”
Christian worked him open, finger by added finger. Dylan whined and keened, hips rocking minutely, craving more. Just when he opened his lips to ask, Christian slid his fingers out, the head of his cock taking their place. His daddy pressed inward in steady increments. Thank Goddess for Mr. Charles’ required blood tests, too, so they could forgo the condoms.
Mouth open, gulping air, Dylan forced himself to relax and allow Daddy permission to enter, wanting it desperately, seeking satisfaction for his burning desire. This was their first full penetration, and it was everything and more than Dylan wished for. Feeling Daddy inside him without a barrier was heaven. Blood pounded through his veins, throbbed in his ears. His sweat-slicked fingers lost their grip, his hands drifting from Christian’s neck to cross his body and grasp his own shoulders. Christian circled one arm around Dylan’s chest and limbs, holding Dylan still as he took his pleasure in Dylan’s body.
Each forward bang of Christian’s hips pushed him into Brian’s mouth. Brian slurped and gulped, gasping for breath each time Christian pulled back. Brian’s steely grip on Dylan’s thighs would leave marks behind, not that Dylan cared. He loved seeing the bright flush on Brian’s skin, the streak of tears down his cheeks, and the hazy wonder in his eyes. He’d done that. Him and Daddy.
“Now, Dylan,” Christian panted, forehead pressed to the top of Dylan’s shoulder. “Come for us. Fill his mouth. Squeeze me tight. Make me come, too.”
“Yes, Daddy. Want that. Want you. Both.” Dylan let himself go, no longer fighting to hold off. It took only a few more thrusts, a few more punches by Christian to send him flying. His cock pulsed, stream after stream of cum filling Brian’s mouth. He had just enough coherence to remember to bear down on Daddy’s cock, squeezing his muscles, pulling Christian along for the flight.
“D!” Christian shouted, grinding in deep, body jerking as he came inside Dylan.
Dylan didn’t know how they were both still upright by the end, except Brian was on his feet and had both his arms around them. Weakly, Dylan patted his arm. “Thanks, Bri. You’re the best.”
Brian laughed. “Anytime.” He leaned down and stole a kiss. A kiss that tasted of Dylan.
Dylan grabbed Brian’s ears and pulled him down for another and another, before giving him up to Christian’s demands. Being short meant they kissed over the top of his head as they embraced him between their solid bodies. He twisted left and right to kiss their chests and necks.
The buzzer startled them all, breaking them apart in a fit of laughter. Brian stepped backwards, adjusting his cock within the confines of its extremely tight quarters.
“Go wash up,” he told them. “Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes.”
“So this was dessert first?” Dylan teased, wiggling his leggings up. Christian pinched his butt and he squawked. Dylan spun around and leapt at Christian. He was going to say, “Meany,” but what came out was “Thank you, Daddy.” He planted another fast kiss to Christian’s cheek then ran for the bathroom. No way was he sitting through dinner with cum dripping from his behind.
No way, no how.
Chapter 17
Ryan
Dinner was a subdued affair, and Ryan grew agitated the longer it went on. Eli continued to withhold information, and he didn’t like it one bit. Several times, he’d opened his mouth to speak, only to receive a scathing glare each time. What was it about these wolverines that had Eli’s panties in a twist?
Ryan hid his mischievous smirk behind his hand. He’d have to research later; a little lace might spice things up. Not that he was complaining… Uh yeah, he was. Other than a hug that morning and a peck to his forehead, Eli hadn’t touched him in what felt like forever. Well, two can play that game.
“Daddy J?” Ryan wiped his mouth and placed his napkin down beside his plate.
Jon glanced from Eli to him. “Yes, pup?”
“Will you color with me after dinner?” He batted his eyelashes and beamed. Not a care in the world for this little boy.
Jon reached across the table and touched Ryan’s forearm. He side-eyed Eli again before he spoke. “Just me? Not Daddy Eli and I both?”
“No.” Ryan shook his head forlornly. “Daddy Eli is too busy. He needs to work.” He nodded with the solemn truth of his words. “He doesn’t have time to play.”
“I’m sure he—”
“That’s fine,” Eli cut Jon off. “He’s right. You two go have fun. I have to make a few phone calls.” He pushed back from the table and left.
Ryan rested his elbow on the table, chin in his hand, and sighed. He watched Eli enter his office, the door slamming shutting with a loud thud.
“Is that what you wanted?” Jon asked, leaning back in his chair and tossing his napkin on his empty plate. The condemnation hung heavy in the air between them.
Ryan cut his gaze to Jon. Picking up his napkin, he carefully folded it into the tiniest square before shoving it under his plate. “No,” he sighed, “but I’m not surprised. If he can’t see the error of his ways, he can sleep on the couch tonight.”
“Pup.”
Ryan shrugged. “Then I’ll sleep in the playroom. There’s no reason for him to be like this.”
Jon picked up his unused spoon and twirled it on the tabletop, the soft scratch of wood irksome. Jon kept his eyes on the spoon. “You don’t know that.”
“Huh.” Ryan rubbed his annoyingly sweaty palms on his legs. This confrontation had him all jumbled. He’d hoped Eli would understand what he was doing. Maybe he did, but, unfortunately, Ryan’s plan backfired, and now Jon was upset, too. “I just want to remind you that I’m twenty-three, not thirteen. I’m an adult, not a kid. Not some kid who isn’t invested in this relationship.”
Ryan stood, catching Jon’s gaze when he looked at him. “Perhaps, you’d like to remind Eli of that. I’ll be in my room.” He walked away and left Jon sitting there. Ryan hoped Jon would talk to Eli because he was sick and tired of being on the outside.
He puttered around the playroom for a while, tidying the few stray art supplies he’d left out and molding some clay into monstrous forms before smushing them with his fists whenever his thoughts turned to Eli or wolverines or stupid, overbearing alphas in general. Unable to rein in his emotions, he put the clay away and plopped onto a beanbag chair, hoping a book would steer his mind elsewhere.
A knock on the door heralded Jon’s arrival, Eli in tow. Literally. Jon dragged him by the wrist, and Eli’s frown said he’d rather be anyplace but here.
“Sit.” Jon pointed to the second beanbag.
Eli scoffed. “I’ll use a regular chair.” He crossed the room and grabbed one of the standard plastic desk chairs around the art table. Eli carried it back and set it in front of Ryan. When he sat, it forced Ryan to look up at him. Jon, meanwhile, fell into the unoccupied beanbag, putting him on the same level as Ryan. He reached across the small divide and laced Ryan’s fingers with his.
Ryan let the silence linger. He slouched and twisted to look at Jon, giving him a closed-mouth smile.
“Hey, pup.” Jon blew him a kiss.
“Hi, Daddy J. Did you talk to Alpha Eli?”
Eli exhaled sharply, but Ryan kept his eyes on Jon. Until Eli treated him right, he wouldn’t get the honor of being Ryan’s Daddy. Oh, there’d probably be some punishment later, but a timeout or loss of privileges was worth
the lesson he hoped he was teaching.
“I did, pup, but he’s being stubborn. I don’t know what it is about alpha foxes, but they can be uncooperative at the worst of times. It’s a good thing I have a strong backbone. I thought for sure I’d have to fight him.”
Ryan gasped, latching onto Jon’s arm. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Eli grumbled in the background.
“No.” Jon smiled. “In fact, I stole a trick from your book.”
“You did!” Ryan played up the surprise-face.
“I did. I went right in there and sat on his lap.”
Ryan crowed, “You didn’t!”
“I did,” Jon repeated, equally gleeful.
“You’re the best, Daddy J.” Ryan scrambled from his beanbag to sprawl on Jon’s with him, halfway to falling off. Jon hauled him closer and settled him between his legs. From there, they both blinked innocently at Eli.
“You two drive me crazy,” Eli grated, but his lips twitched, and Ryan knew they had him. “Fine, but don’t let Payton know or, at least, don’t let on that you know.”
Ryan turned the key to his lips. Behind him, Jon made a zipping sound.
Eli rolled his eyes. “Like I said, crazy.” He pulled in a deep breath and blew it out fast. “Ten years ago, before I even met you, Jon, Forest Edge wasn’t owned by the skulk. It belonged to a pack of wolverines. According to Payton, an argument between the two ruling families happened and caused a major rift among the pack. One group wanted to head north, back to cooler climates, which are more natural for their animal halves. The other half wanted to stay, but since they couldn’t afford the land taxes on their property, they had no choice but to also leave. Alpha Payton and the council had been scouting for a new location to develop as we were outgrowing the properties we currently had. The skulk swooped in, cash in hand, as soon as they put the properties up for sale.”
Ryan sat up. “And now some of them are back and causing trouble?”
Eli nodded. “So we believe.”
“Why didn’t they seek to negotiate with Payton when they came back?” Jon asked, pulling Ryan to his chest. Ryan settled with a content sigh, guiding Jon’s arms to cross his body.
Eli tapped the side of his nose. “That’s the million dollar question. We don’t know exactly who is back, why they’re back, or what they want, other than to cause trouble. They’ve given us no demands yet.”
“Well, they’ve certainly got our attention,” Jon said, rubbing his nose into Ryan’s hair. “Kidnapping, property damage. What other sorts of mayhem could they cause?”
Eli sighed, pressing the heels of his hands into his thighs. He swallowed and wet his lips before speaking. The subtle hints in his body language put Ryan on edge. “Unfortunately, they’ve already done plenty. They vandalized several fox-owned and skulk-owned businesses in town, and the tires of several residents’ vehicles have been slashed.”
“Damn,” Ryan murmured. No wonder Eli had been preoccupied. This was bigger than he thought if they were creating widespread destruction.
“Language, pup.” Jon scolded, but there was no heat behind his admonishment. He pushed Ryan to stand and then followed, getting to his feet with a groan. “I’m too old to sit in that thing.”
Ryan’s earlier anger had dissipated with Eli’s admission. He took the opportunity now to lighten the mood in lieu of voicing an apology. “If you’re old, Daddy J, then Daddy Eli is ancient and decrepit. Maybe I should go get you two some canes and wheelchairs.” He laughed and danced away from the half-hearted swats swung his way. “Come on, old fogeys, time for bed.”
Jon growled. “I’ll show you old.”
Ryan cackled as he dashed for the bedroom, his not-so-old Daddies on his tail.
Chapter 18
Brian
Brian sat on the end of the king-sized bed in Christian’s room, his hands loosely folded over his groin, hiding from Dylan’s knowing gaze. He was the only one who hadn’t come earlier, and the anticipation of a very naked bath with Dyl was enough to keep him half-hard and fully wanting.
They were waiting on Christian to finish filling the tub and light candles or some shit. He didn’t need any of that, but whatever floats the alpha’s boat, right? Smile and nod, Bri. Smile and nod.
“Hey.” Dylan scooted closer, leaning in and pressing their knees together. “You doing okay? Not freaking out on me, are you?”
Brian shrugged, unwilling to look at Dylan. His cheeks warmed under Dylan’s scrutiny; his cock took notice, too.
Dylan bumped their shoulders and chuckled under his breath. “No, I don’t think you’re freaking out, but you are nervous, and that’s okay, but you don’t need to be.” He drew one of Brian’s hands away and threaded their fingers together. “It’s just you and me and Daddy, and we all want the same thing.”
“What’s that?” Brian prompted when he didn’t elaborate.
“Love eventually.” Dylan smirked. “But right now, fun and orgasms. We’ll take care of you, make sure you have what you want and get what you need.”
“It’s that easy?” Brian had plenty of doubts. He’d never had it easy. Life was just one complication after another, one setback, one heartbreak. He’d had a few lucky breaks, if one could call them that: the job with Alpha Eli, which eventually led to the job at Sly Fox. He’d gotten to move into Forest Edge and then live with Christian.
When he turned eighteen, his mother encouraged him to leave home, and that was putting it nicely. She hadn’t been happy about his proclivities, but then again, she’d never been much of a mother, either. His father had been more accepting, and the few times he’d returned home were only to see his dad, though after his last visit even that bridge might have been burnt. Brian had bounced from friends’ couches to strangers’ beds. Town to town, picking up odd jobs and skills to pay for food and laundry and the next bus fare. Kev, Alpha Eli’s head of security, found him napping on a park bench in town. He took one look at Brian and brought him to Eli.
“Well,” Dylan drawled, “I don’t know about easy. Nothing in life is, right? But I feel like being here, with you and Daddy, will be…less complicated? Does that make sense?” Dylan wobbled his head from side to side. “Daddy will take care of us financially. Food, clothes, a roof over our heads. All we have to do is love him and please him.”
Brian closed his eyes and breathed in that statement. Love him and please him. Both of them. He wanted more than anything to kneel for them, but would it require him to give up what he had earned for himself? He’d left his childhood home eight years ago. Almost a decade of “here and there.” Busboy, waiter, line cook, hotel staff, office temp, garbage hauler, gardener and landscaper, road construction and construction worker. Town to city. Suburban, urban, rural. He’d done it all, or at least whatever a high school diploma afforded him.
He loved his current jobs with the skulk: barista at Sly Fox and weekend cook and kit-sitter for Alpha Eli. Did he add in submissive for Christian and Dylan? Was he required to replace one for the others?
Brian’s anxiety grew along with a thread of anger. He had decisions to make, but there were so many variables to consider. And they didn’t understand him at all. A rumble of displeasure reverberated unbidden from his throat. Dylan didn’t have to worry. He had one job: be Christian’s little. Plus, he got what Brian wanted: Christian fucked Dylan first. Could he complain though, when it was him who blew Christian first, who Sir pushed to his knees and demanded just like he’s always dreamed about?
“You’re scaring me, Bri. Isn’t this what you wanted? I guess it isn’t really. I mean, I know you wanted Christian, and you got me instead. You got both of us. Are you mad about that? Yeah, you probably are. I’m just a stupid little bird. I don’t know wha—”
What the hell? Brian silenced Dylan’s tirade with his hand over Dylan’s mouth. His own thoughts were so messed up, he couldn’t deal with Dylan’s uncertainties, too. “Stop that! You don’t put yourself down. Ever. You’re not the stupid one, I am. He doesn�
�t want me. I should go.”
“No!” Christian shouted, and they both froze. “Both of you, here.” He pointed at the floor at his feet. They scrambled to obey, Brian belatedly noted his cock had lost interest when he dropped to his knees. He layered his hands in front of his groin, back curled, head bowed.
Christian’s feet turned to the right, towards Dylan beside him. Brian seethed. Of course, he would be chosen first. He peeked to see Dylan with his legs apart, back straight and head up. Poised. Confident. Brian’s opposite in every way.
Was he ever like that? Sadly, he realized the answer was no. There’d been bright spots of praise and confidence when he’d done a good job, but they never lasted. Something or someone would come along and ruin it. He’d be teased or bullied. It wasn’t in his nature to fight, so he’d save his money and, when he reached his breaking point, he’d leave. Move on and re-establish a place for himself all over again. Perpetual low man on the totem pole.
And here he was again. The last of three.
The brush of Dylan’s skin made him flinch. He was moving closer, grabbing Brian’s arms and tugging him upright, mumbling words Brian couldn’t understand.
Brian shook him off. “What are you doing?” he hissed. “Stop touching me.”
“I was trying to help you,” Dylan whisper-shouted. “You’re not in the correct form.”
“Fuck you. I can kneel however I want. It’s not like I had formal training from Mister Charles.”
Above him, Christian groaned. “Brian, stuff it. Dylan, give him space.”
Dylan sniffled and shuffled a good three feet from Brian, leaving him feeling cold and wretched. This wasn’t him. He was the nice guy. He hated that he’d made Dylan cry. He curled into a tighter ball, his forehead almost touching his knees.
“Brian.” Christian settled onto the floor beside Brian, surprising him by choosing to sit in between him and Dylan. He dug his fingertips into Brian’s neck and hairline, pushing upwards into his scalp and rubbing hard. He pulled Brian’s head towards him. Brian rested his forehead against Christian’s thigh and let himself absorb the trek of Christian’s hand up and down his back.