Carver’s jaw unclenched.
The mood soured, Carver led Peter and Tex to the last aisle. This one contained bondage furniture, none of which Carver and Tex had room for in their house. Carver wondered how much it would cost to renovate their basement into a playroom.
He licked his lips at the thought of having a special place to play rough with Peter.
“We didn’t find a hood for tomorrow,” Tex said, staring down the aisle with little interest. He wasn’t that into bondage and submission to begin with, so Carver guessed that fucking machines and vac-bed held little appeal for him.
Carver, on the other hand, would love to see Peter at the mercy of both of those devices.
“There were hoods and stuff over where we found the sleep-sack,” Peter pointed out, looking down the aisle at all the bondage furniture like it was going to eat him. He sounded both eager and wary, which seemed to be his default state when it came to anything having to do with BDSM.
“All right, let’s go have a second look,” Carver said, deciding that he’d save this aisle for when he had somewhere to put everything.
They found the hoods right where Peter had said they would be, and Carver took great pleasure in having Peter try them on one after the other.
There was a special thrill in lacing up a leather hood, knowing that Peter would be unable to get out of it without help.
In the end, Carver selected a thick sensory deprivation hood with a built-in gag and collar, the gag detachable so that he could still use Peter’s mouth when he was locked up in the hood.
Peter had looked properly dazed when he’d taken it off, just nodding and smiling when Carver asked if it was okay.
He really was a submissive little slut.
“I think we’re done, right?” Tex said, looking at their overflowing cart. He sounded like he’d had more than enough of Leather House.
“What about your sandpaper gloves?” Carver asked.
“Got them when you were looking at puppy mitts.” Tex reached into the cart and dug up a familiar-looking package, holding it up to show Carver. It was the same sandpaper gloves he’d ordered online, only a size bigger.
“All right, I guess we’re ready to go home.” Carver threaded his fingers through Peter’s hair, giving it a playful tug. “You want to ride back home with me or Tex?”
“You,” Peter said, making Tex let out a noise of mock protest. Peter leaned into Carver’s hand, unconcerned. “Sorry, Tex.”
“It’s fine,” Tex said,
“Good boy,” Carver said, pulling him in under his arm. “Let’s go see how much all of this is going to cost us.”
36
Peter
“That was a lot of money,” Pete said, taking a seat in Carver’s car and putting on his seatbelt. He was still reeling from how much Tex and Carver had spent. He glanced over at Carver, but the alpha just shrugged.
“You don’t think it was worth it?” Carver asked, unconcerned.
“I didn’t say that,” Peter said. Peter had always been well off—in the sense that his trust had covered college tuition and he’d never had to work—but he’d never been in a position where he could spend thousands and thousands of dollars like it was nothing.
Thinking about money and how easily Carver spent it, Peter had a morbid curiosity about how much he and Tex had spent on him. He knew that Carver hadn’t known about Tex getting him from the delinquency program, but it was Carver’s money that had paid for it.
He didn’t ask.
“So, anything you’re particularly excited to try out?” Carver asked, pulling out of the parking lot. Tex was in front of them, his leather-clad body perched on the back of his bike, speeding away from them and making Carver roll his eyes.
“Not the cock-cage,” Peter said, still horrified that his alphas had actually gone through with purchasing it. “If you think you’re putting that on my dick, you have another thing coming.”
The corner of Carver’s lip turned up in a small smirk and he looked over at Peter, expression cruel and unbearably hot. “You think you could stop us?”
Peter’s gut filled with butterflies and his hole clenched tight. He couldn’t. Either one of his alphas could make him do anything they wanted, and together they made him even more helpless.
