“Yes, alpha.”
Steve leaned forward, catching him off guard with a kiss on his lips. He swiped his tongue gently over Dylan’s mouth, tasting his lips, before plunging inside like he was trying to tongue-fuck his throat.
When he pulled away, Dylan was breathless and panting and so close to coming that one little twitch would send him over the edge.
“Tap out if you need a break, okay?”
Dylan nodded and then remembered. “Yes, alpha.”
“Good boy.”
Steve grabbed him by his hair and brought Dylan’s mouth down to his cock, pushing past his lips with a steady pressure on the back of his head. Once the head of his cock was inside, he stopped pushing.
“Put your tongue under my foreskin,” he commanded. When Dylan didn’t act fast enough to comply with the request, he tapped his cheek with a gentle slap. “Now, Dylan.”
Dylan swiped his tongue over Steve’s cockhead, struggling to move it under his foreskin. Steve’s cock was big, and it took up almost all the space in Dylan’s mouth. It wasn’t easy to do anything with his tongue when he could barely move it.
“I’m going to have to start bringing a riding crop with me when I go out with you, aren’t I?” Steve said, his tone disappointed. He pulled Dylan a little off his cock, and suddenly Dylan had room to obey his instructions.
He pushed his tongue under Steve’s foreskin, licking around his glans and feeling grateful that Steve was thorough when he washed. The flavor of cock was more intense under his foreskin, but it was clean.
The mental image of Steve holding a riding crop, casually smacking it down on Dylan’s ass whenever he didn’t obey fast or well enough made Dylan’s balls throb. It was the final push he needed to send him over the edge, and before he knew it, he was moaning and humping Steve’s leg as he came all over the insides of his briefs.
It was over all too soon.
“Did you just come?” Steve asked, leaning down to Dylan’s ass and grabbing him between his legs. He pushed his fingers down underneath his taint, the tips of his fingers finding the wet spot on Dylan’s crotch. “You little dog. You did!”
Steve smacked Dylan’s ass three times in quick succession, each hit grinding Dylan’s cock down on Steve’s leg.
“Did I tell you that you were allowed to come?” He spanked Dylan a fourth, fifth and sixth time. “I don’t remember that. Do you, Ryker?”
“I don’t,” Ryker said. “August?”
“Nope, can’t say that I do.”
“Bad boys get spanked,” Steve growled, smacking Dylan’s ass over and over, the hits getting harder. On the fifteenth blow, Dylan started to whimper.
“Four more,” Steve growled, his cock getting impossibly harder where it rested against Dylan’s tongue. “And keep my fucking cock in your mouth or I’m putting you over my lap and then you’ll really be sorry.”
Dylan clung to Steve’s leg, pushing himself further down on his cock and making himself gag in the process.
Steve ignored him and started spanking him, and Dylan realized that all the other spanks had just been playful swats.
The sound of Steve’s palm hitting his jean-covered ass rang out through the cabin like a shot, loud even over the engine, and Dylan screamed around the thick cock poking at the back of his throat.
“Remember to tap out if you need to,” Ryker reminded him, sounding a little worried. “And maybe ease up a little, Steve. He’s a beginner.”
“He’s wearing jeans,” Steve said, defending himself. “He can take it.”
Despite that, his next blow was not as bad as the first.
“Tap if you want me to keep going.”
Dylan froze, not liking the idea that he had to be complicit in his own ravaging. Annoyed, he tapped Steve’s thigh.
His attitude must have shown in the tap, because Steve immediately delivered the third blow, and this time he didn’t hold back. The third blow was followed by a fourth, giving Dylan no time to catch his breath or process the pain before suddenly it was over.
Steve yanked him off his cock and lifted him up so that they were nose to nose. Dylan stared into his alpha’s eyes, and he would be lying if the sadistic glee he could see lurking in his gaze didn’t make him nervous.
