He was shouting, squirming on Steve’s lap, as though volume and movement could dim the pain. Steve laughed and released his abused nub, rubbing it roughly before taking his hand out of Dylan’s shirt. He grabbed the shirt by the hem and lifted it over Dylan’s head, taking it off before he could really process how it had happened.
“You don’t need that,” Steve explained, patting his chest and making a slapping sound. He rubbed his stomach. “So you want to suck my cock and nuzzle my balls. Those both sound good. How do you feel about getting slapped around a little while that goes on?”
Dylan hesitated. For all that August and Ryker played rough, they didn’t slap him outside of spanking his ass a few times. Was that what Steve was talking about?
“What do you mean?”
“I want to slap your face,” Steve clarified. “Can I?”
“Maybe?” Dylan said. He had answered yes to face-slapping on the KinkMatch questionnaire, but only as mildly interested.
The idea of Steve using his massive hand to slap his face was honestly a little scary.
“Not very hard,” Steve assured him. “Not much harder than this.”
He slapped Dylan across his cheek, catching him off guard and making him cry out. It wasn’t a hard slap – more like a tap – but Dylan’s cheek still stung and the humiliation of being slapped in the face lingered and made his whole body feel funny.
He liked it.
“Okay,” Dylan said, licking his lips.
“Are you sure?” Ryker asked, sounding a little worried. “You don’t have to.”
“No, I’m sure,” Dylan said. “I think I liked it.”
Steve smacked him again, slightly harder, and Dylan was caught just as off guard as the first time. He leaned back, staring at his empty seat and breathing fast as he processed the pain and the strangely delicious feeling of humiliation.
He couldn’t believe helikedthis.
“Did you likethat?” Steve asked, his voice low and demanding.
“Yeah,” Dylan said, the word coming out in a puff of air like it had been punched out of him. “Fuck, that feels weird.”
Steve slapped him again. “Don’t swear.”
Dylan’s head was ringing and he felt like he was floating. His cheek stung, his skin feeling hot, and when he looked down, he stared at Steve’s giant mitt of a hand like he’d never seen it before.
Steve rubbed his stomach, the tenderness of the gesture contrasting with the earlier slapping and making Dylan feel like he was going to melt.
“He goes down this easy?” Steve asked, a note of wonder in his voice. Dylan was only half paying attention, but he was glad to hear that he didn’t sound sad any more.
“He’s pretty easy to drop,” Ryker said, his voice serious. Dylan frowned and tried to pay attention. “We have to be careful. He won’t tell us when it’s too much.”
“I understand,” Steve said, his voice equally serious. He leaned in and kissed Dylan’s cheek, squeezing him tight against his chest. “You’re a good boy, Dylan. A very good boy.”
Goosebumps erupted up and down Dylan’s arms, his spine tingling. His cock throbbed, the praise almost more than he could bear. He writhed, wishing he could turn around and bury his face in Steve’s big, muscular pecs. He wanted to feel them smother his face.
“On your knees,” Steve said, sliding Dylan down between his legs and turning him around. Dylan sat back on his haunches, looking up at Steve with wide eyes.
He stared at the bulge in Steve’s suit, his mouth watering. He couldn’t wait to see Steve’s massive cock again. Leaning forward, he reached for the waistband of Steve’s suit only to have his hand roughly smacked away.
Steve grabbed him by his hair and yanked his head back, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes.
“Did I give you permission to undo my pants?”
His voice was perfectly calm and level, but the note of warning in it went right to Dylan’s cock.
“No, alpha,” he said.
