Slade threw off the blankets and scooted to the end of the bed.He usually slept naked, but tonight, he’d kept his boxers on, unsure whether he would confront Atticus when he returned.Not that they did a damn thing to conceal the erection now fighting to get free.
“Stroke his dick,” Carson said.“Go easy.He doesn’t have permission to come.”
“Where are you goin’?”Slade asked when Carson released Atticus’s cock.
“To get a chair.I’ll be right back.”He pressed his mouth to Atticus’s cheek.“No talkin’.”
Slade saw the way Atticus’s Adam’s apple bobbed slowly in his throat.He noticed the glitter in his eyes.He liked to be dominated.
Since Atticus was instructed not to speak, Slade didn’t bother asking questions.He knew Atticus was obedient when it came to their instruction.He’d noticed it more than once.Instead, he watched his hand move up and down Atticus’s shaft, admired the pearly drop of precum lingering at the tip.
Carson returned with a chair from the kitchen, setting it at the end of the bed before walking around to admire Atticus from all angles.
“How’s our boy doin’?”
“His cock’s weeping with anticipation,” Slade answered, surprised by how much he liked that Carson had called Atticus theirs.Despite the tension, it still felt right.The three of them together.
“How would you like to play this?”Carson asked.
Slade wasn’t able to hide his surprise, his head snapping around, eyes slamming into Carson.“You’re askin’ for my input?”
“I’m askin’ if you want to have a say.”
Slade’s cock pulsed and thickened.That hard, dominating tone always got him.It was one of the things he’d loved most about Carson.The way he could turn him into putty without even trying.
Slade looked up to see Atticus watching him closely, waiting for his response.
“What do you think?”
“He doesn’t get a say,” Carson snapped.“He doesn’t get to speak.”
Slade was still watching Atticus, still had his hand around the man’s dick, so he felt and saw how much that turned him on.
“Decide,” Carson said firmly.
He turned his head slowly, meeting Carson’s gaze once again.“No.I don’t want a say.”
“Good boy.”
Jesus fuck.Those words said in that dark baritone were nearly enough to make him come.He hadn’t heard them in so damn long he’d forgotten just how powerful they were.
Carson moved closer, gripping Slade’s wrist and stilling it.
“You take over,” he instructed Atticus as he pulled Slade to his feet.
Slade stood, his own breaths labored as anticipation coursed through his veins.
“Undress me,” Carson commanded, his eyes fixed on Atticus’s hand moving up and down his shaft.
With so much heat churning in his veins, it was a wonder Slade was capable of performing such a simple task.Yet, he got to work doing exactly that.
Carson watched Atticus watching Slade remove hisclothes, piece by piece.The more he took off, the hotter the gleam in Atticus’s eyes became.It was a heady feeling to know the man was turned on as much as he was.Especially like this.Carson got off on instructing, on watching a scene play out.But being part of the action only added to the intensity.
Admittedly, he used to keep himself detached from the action.It was easier that way.Back when he’d been with Slade, Carson had kept it that way, choosing to watch Slade with other men.On occasion, he would participate, but for the most part, he would revel in the debauchery and then simply take what he wanted from Slade after the fact.
With Atticus and Slade, Carson didn’t want to be on the periphery.He wanted to be with them.Both of them.With every passing day, his need for both of them was intensifying.Almost to a point that it scared him.He knew Slade still hated him for what he’d done, for how he’d mishandled their relationship.He didn’t blame him.It was the least Carson deserved.
Still, he wanted more, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to express that.When it came to sex, he was a pro at taking control, pushing boundaries, fulfilling fantasies.When it came to feelings, he was a novice.
