Then again, it might be worth it just to see how Peter punished him.
“Don’t even think about it,” Peter growled, his hand coming down on Chad’s throat and squeezing hard. Chad blinked up at the alpha, breath cut off and feeling like he was going to choke from the pressure on his Adam’s apple. He let his hands fall limp by his sides.
How the fuck had Peter knows what he was thinking?
“There’s a good boy,” Peter said, loosening his grip on Chad’s throat and letting him breathe. The feeling of his smooth leather glove against the stubble covering Chad’s throat was heavenly, and he closed his eyes as Peter dug his fingers into the underside of his jaw.
Peter lifted his other hand, black glove a blur in the corner of Chad’s eye, and slapped him. The hit wasn’t hard—nothing like the one to his abs—but Chad still felt rocked to his core. He moaned, only Peter’s hand on his throat preventing him from lifting his face up in search of more.
“Kinky little shit,” Peter crooned, rubbing Chad’s face and tracing his lips with the pad of his thumb. He pressed inside and rubbed over Chad’s teeth. “You’re just loving this, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” Chad said, words distorted by the finger pushing down on his tongue.
“You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?” Peter mused, sounding awed and enormously turned on by that fact. He lifted the hand on Chad’s throat up and pushed three fingers past his lips, sliding them down over his tongue and making him gag. “Anything I can think of, and you’ll just… take it.”
Chad closed his eyes and moaned, doing his best to control his gag reflex as Peter fucked into his throat. The alpha’s words sent little sparks of pleasure down his spine, even though they both knew that there were plenty of things that would have Chad tapping out in a second.
But for a moment it was fun to pretend that anything went.
“On your belly,” Peter said, withdrawing his fingers and wiping them off on the front of his shirt. He straightened to his full height and picked up the bag he’d let fall to the floor, dropping it down on the bed as Chad slowly rolled onto his front. Chad had to pull his legs up over the edge of the mattress to do it, Peter showing no inclination to move out of his way. Once he was on his stomach, Chad pushed back down to the end of the bed so that his legs were spread out on either side of Peter’s body.
He felt deliciously vulnerable.
“Hands behind your back,” Peter commanded, pulling something out if the bag. Chad was about to turn his head to see what when he felt Peter’s palm pushing down on his neck. “Head down.”
Chad shuddered at the growl in Peter’s voice, and he pushed his face down into the sheets.
“Hands,” Peter reminded him, and Chad hurried to push his hands behind his back.
Peter started sliding something up both his arms, lifting it higher and higher until Chad grasped what it was. It was an armbinder. The leather was soft and supple, and Peter pulled it past Chad’s elbows and all the way up to his biceps. Even unlaced it pushed his shoulders back painfully, and when Peter started pulling it closed, forcing his arms together from wrist to elbow, it hurt.
“You can take it,” Peter said, grabbing something else from his bag. Chad felt something touch down on the back of his neck—wide and stiff—and a second later he realized that it was a posture collar. Peter fastened the collar around his neck, angling his jaw up and fitting it into the indentation in the collar, immobilizing his head completely.
Chad groaned when Peter started stroking his hair, thick fingers rubbing over his scalp and tracing behind his ears with gentle firmness.
When Peter withdrew his hand, Chad felt the echo of his fingers far more acutely than he did the pain or discomfort of his bondage.
“You look so good like this,” Peter said, reaching into his bag again. Chad held his breath as he felt Peter lift something toward his head, and he almost called out his safeword when Peter started sliding a supple leather hood down over his eyes.
“Relax,” Peter said, his voice low and dark and impossible to disobey. He sounded infinitely patient. Chad took a deep breath and surrendered to what Peter wanted to do to him.
It wasn’t a full hood, Chad understood after a moment. It didn’t cover his mouth, acting instead like an oversized blindfold. Peter laced it tight and then connected it to the posture collar with a series of buttons. They each made a loud cracking sound as they snapped shut, and Chad realized that the collar and blindfold were designed to work together.
“Come on,” Peter said once the blindfold was in place. He pulled away from where Chad was lying on the bed, and as he retreated Chad felt something tugging on his collar.
Peter had put him on a leash.
Stumbling to his feet, unsteady and off balance with his arms pulled so strangely out of position, Chad let the pull on his collar lead him after his alpha.
“That’s it,” Peter said, walking Chad out of the bedroom and through the penthouse. Chad tried to keep track of where they were going, but it was hard. Peter stopped every few steps to touch his cock and fondle his balls in the palm of his hand, and by the time they got to where they were going Chad was all turned around anddesperateto come.
“Here we go,” Peter said, grabbing Chad by his shoulders and shifting him around. He walked him sideways, a table bumping into the back of his legs, and brought him to a halt. Before Chad could wonder why they were in the dining room Peter pushed him to his knees and pulled up a chair in front of him. Peter sat down, shoving Chad back and under the table until his head was nestled in the space between Peter’s muscular thighs.
His head forced to face forward by the posture collar, Chad’s nose was pressed into the mound of Peter’s balls, and the scent of the alpha’s crotch was overpowering. Musky and clean, Chad could practically taste Peter’s oversized low-hangers on his tongue.
“Now you just sit there and be a good boy,” Peter said. He put his hand on Chad’s neck and lifted him further up into his lap by the back of his half-hood, Chad’s nose crashing into the hard bulge of his cock. His head was at just the right angle to let him lick the wonderful bulge, but Peter shoved him roughly back down into his balls and smacked the back of his head.
“I didn’t tell you to lick,” he growled, making Chad whimper. He wanted to do something to show how sorry he was, but he knew that any independent action at this point would be construed as disobedience.
