“Like that?” Ryker asked, jerking Dylan’s cock and grinning into his ear.
“Yeah,” Dylan agreed. Watching Steve and August kiss felt like watching porn. It was so hot, it felt like it should be illegal, and yet all they were doing was kissing.
“What else?” Ryker asked, and Dylan didn’t know how to answer that. Just sitting between Ryker’s muscular thighs while the alpha groped and touched him was hot enough that he felt like he was going to combust. He didn’t need more.
But maybe more could be fun.
“Is it weird that I miss the gloves a little?” Dylan asked, looking down at Ryker’s hand and asking the question before he could second-guess himself.
Ryker laughed and kissed his cheek. “Not at all. Would you like one of us to throw on a pair for you?”
“Maybe?” Dylan shrugged, suddenly wanting that very much.
“I’m sure Steve has something that will fit the bill.”
Steve broke away from August’s mouth with a gasp and nodded. “I do. I have regular leather gloves, riding gloves, work gloves, and I think I might have some leather mittens lying around. I can go get them and you can pick which ones you like best.”
Before Dylan could change his mind and insist that that wasn’t necessary, Steve had jumped up and was speeding out of the room in an eager scramble.
Ryker lifted his hand off Dylan’s lap and grabbed him underneath his arms. He moved him forward, lifting him off the couch and setting him down on his knees between his legs.
Dylan turned around, swallowing at the showy way Ryker leaned back and spread his legs.
“I want to go first,” Ryker said, groping himself. “I want you to blow me like you did Steve last night. You were so eager, and it made me feel like I’d missed out on something. Think you can do that?”
Dylan stared at the lump in Ryker’s jeans and nodded. He would worship Ryker’s gorgeous cock for hours if given the chance, licking and sucking and smelling it like a horny animal.
Ryker was the one who always went right for skull-fucking
“Then I’m all yours.”
Dylan leaned in and rubbed his chin over the bulge in Ryker’s jeans, nuzzling it and breathing in the scent of musk. He was just starting to consider how he was going to get it out of Ryker’s pants when Steve burst back into the room and exclaimed, “I found the gloves!”
Dylan pushed his face into Ryker’s crotch as the ridiculousness of Steve’s errand made him giggle. He turned around, staring at the bundle of leather gloves Steve was presenting to him like the world’s weirdest bouquet.
“The normal black ones,” Dylan said when it became clear that all three werewolves were waiting for him to give his opinion.
Steve discarded all but the basic black leather dress gloves, dropping them on the floor where he was standing, and tugged them on.
“Can you crouch behind me and touch me while I’m giving Ryker his blowjob?” Dylan asked, wanting to feel Steve’s leather-clad hands roaming all over his body.
“Like a pat-down?” Steve asked, grabbing the coffee table and pulling it back so that he could get into position.
“Sure,” Dylan agreed. He didn’t care how Steve touched him, he just wanted to be touched.
“I can do that,” Steve said. He lowered himself down into a crouch, thighs bracketing Dylan’s body and boxing him in between Ryker’s legs, and took a firm hold of his sides. “Like this?”
He squeezed down, working the sides of Dylan’s chest with his strong fingers and making Dylan feel like he was going to come on the spot.
“Yes, like that.” Dylan reached up to steady himself on Ryker’s legs, rubbing his face into the bulge of Ryker’s thick cock. He loved the way it felt when he brushed his cheek over it. “Touch me like that.”
He reached for the button on Ryker’s jeans, tearing it open and yanking down his fly. He pressed his mouth down on the portion of Ryker’s shaft that was uncovered.
“So that makes us the make-out partners,” August said, scooting over so that he was sitting next to Ryker. “Lucky me.”
Steve started squeezing his way down Dylan’s sides, feeling him up with firm fingers, and Dylan felt like he was going to come flying apart at the seams he was so turned on. Ryker’s cock was thick and heavy, smelling like musk and clean sweat as he pulled it free from the alpha’s tight jeans, and he could hear Ryker and August making out like a pair of teenagers who’d just discovered French kissing.
Taking Ryker’s cock into his mouth, pulling the foreskin down so that he could probe the slit of his cockhead with the tip of his tongue, Dylan had never felt more fulfilled.
