“Yeah,” he mumbled, feeling exhausted. He wiped his eyes, his stomach doing a little flip when he realized that his lashes were wet with Ryker’s come.
“You passed out,” August said, crouching down behind him. He rubbed Dylan’s back, his broad hand hot against Dylan’s clammy skin.
Dylan took a deep breath, still feeling a little out of it. He really should have a talk with Ryker about his habit of choking him into unconsciousness, but then again, he enjoyed it immensely.
“You bit me,” he said, his own words catching him off guard. He reached up and touched his neck, hissing at the tender feeling.
They’d really sunk their teeth into him.
“We claimed you,” Ryker said, his voice a pleased rumble. “You’re officially part of our pack.”
“Ours,” August agreed, kissing his mark on Dylan’s neck and making him jump at the tender, raw feeling.
Dylan knew he should be a little freaked out by the fact that he was basically werewolf married, but he felt too boneless and satisfied to be worried. Besides, he was already tied to August and Ryker as their omega. Being claimed didn’t make him any more dependent on them. In fact, being claimed was better. It meant that he was wanted.
August and Ryker kept kissing him, mouthing at his neck, lapping their tongues over their respective marks and making Dylan’s spent cock twitch.
He was about to suggest they go to bed for the night when Ryker lifted his head and grinned at him.
“Want to take this to the playroom?”
The playroom? Dylan was exhausted, his jaw and ass both aching, and it was all he could do not to fall asleep.
“I’m tired.”
The words came out more petulant than he’d intended, and Ryker’s grin sharpened.
“You won’t have to do anything, baby.” He stroked Dylan’s cheek and cupped the side of his face, brushing his thumb over his jaw. “We’ll do all the work.”
Dylan shot him a look that told him just how much he believed that. Ryker laughed, sliding his hand down and taking Dylan’s chin between his fingers. The grip was firm, Ryker’s fingers pinching him hard enough that there was a twinge of pain, which to Dylan’s chagrin really did it for him.
“I want to tie you up and play with your balls.”
Ryker sounded deadly serious, the cocky curve of his lip notwithstanding, and Dylan’s balls pulled tight in alarm.
He remembered August telling him that Ryker had a thing for cock and ball torture, and he was in no state of mind to navigate that tonight.
Dylan meant to tell Ryker that he could go fuck himself, but instead the words that slipped through his lips were, “Play with them how?”
Ryker bit his lower lip, fangs glinting and looking sharp as he leaned his face closer.
“Nothing scary. I want to tug on them a little, and maybe see how you like it when I squeeze them or give them a little smack.”
Before Dylan could reply that there would be no smacking or squeezing his balls, August lifted his mouth from Dylan’s neck and hooked his chin on his shoulder. He placed a wet kiss on Dylan’s cheek and rumbled, “I want to tie you up.”
Dylan’s breath hitched, his pulse spiking at the idea of August putting him in bondage.
He liked bondage. Unlike cock and ball torture, bondage didn’t hurt a bit, and the feeling of being completely helpless and at August’s mercy was fantastic.
“Okay.”
The capitulation was easy, but it wasn’t until Ryker’s triumphant look that Dylan realized how he’d interpreted it.
He’d said okay to the bondage, not the ball torture!
“I meant-”
Ryker shut him up with a kiss, sloppily licking into his mouth, and the next thing he knew the alpha was standing up and tossing Dylan over his shoulder.
