Chapter Thirteen
Ryker
The shower shut off fifteen minutes ago. He’s stalling.
I lean back in the leather armchair in my bedroom, crossing one ankle over my knee, and wait.
I get it, he’s shy, but dragging this out only makes me anticipate it more.
I drum my fingers on the armrest, listening to the faint rustle of fabric through the door.
I gave him a very specific dress code for this weekend. One single item. Nothing else.
The bathroom door finally clicks open. Steam rolls out into the bedroom, and Jax steps into the frame.
I drag my gaze up his body, taking my time.
He’s flushing so hard his skin is pink from his collarbones all the way to the tips of his ears.
He shifts on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest like that’s going to hide anything.
It doesn’t. He’s obediently wearing what I left out on the counter for him. A pair of black lace panties.
He looks so out of place, the muscled, clean-cut, formerly straight church boy, arms dotted with outdoorsy ink, big and masculine, standing in the middle of my bedroom wearing racy lingerie.
He also looks fucking edible.
The lace covers next to nothing. The material is so transparent I can see every detail of his cock through the black pattern, fully hard and straining against the delicate fabric.
He’s leaking pre-cum, a tiny wet spot forming just at the tip where the lace stretches tight over his head.
The sight of it makes my own cock twitch in my pants.
We’ve had him for a few weeks now, and watching him shed all his built-up shame to morph into our eager toy is the most entertaining shit I’ve ever experienced.
“Come here,” I say.
He hesitates, biting his bottom lip. “Ryker, this is a bit much, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion. I said come here.” I beckon him with two fingers.
Jax swallows hard. He takes a tentative step forward, his thighs brushing together, trying to angle his hips away from my gaze.
It doesn’t work. I watch the way the lace cups his ass, cut high on his thighs and dipping low below his belly button, framing that stiff cock jutting out from his groin.
He stops just shy of my knees, chewing on his bottom lip, refusing to look me in the eye.
I reach out, grab him by the waist, and yank him forward. He lets out a startled yelp as I pull him down into my lap. He lands across my thigh with a soft thud, his bare skin hot against my pants. I wrap one arm around his waist to keep him steady, sliding my other hand over the swell of his ass.
I squeeze his ass cheeks, digging my fingers into the soft meat and feeling the thin straps cut into his skin. He squirms on my lap, a needy little sound slipping out as his hard cock presses into my stomach.
“You look like the perfect little slut in these,” I murmur, dragging my thumb along the edge of the fabric.
Jax hides his burning face against my neck, his breath ghosting over my collarbone. “Ryker, this is embarrassing.”
“Yeah? I think you like it,” I say, chuckling.
I slide my hand down the crack of his ass, slipping beneath the lace to find the prize waiting for me.
My fingers brush the slick silicone base of the plug nestled deep between his cheeks.
He shivers against me. I put it in him an hour ago, making sure my load stays sealed up inside his eager hole all damn day.
I drag a fingernail over the smooth base of the toy, tapping it gently.
Jax gasps, his back arching as the movement shoves the plug a fraction of an inch deeper into his prostate. His hips jerk, rubbing his leaking cock against the fabric of my pants.
“Still keeping my cum safe in there?” I ask, palming his cheek again and giving it a firm smack that leaves a pink handprint behind. “Such a good boy. Letting me stretch you out all day while you smile and ring up customers.”
He whimpers, nodding against my neck. His hands come up to grip my shoulders, fingers curling into my shirt. “It’s driving me crazy,” he breathes.
“Good,” I tell him, grinning against his hair. “I think you look too pretty to keep hidden away in here.” I slide my hand back up to his waist, gripping him firmly. “We should go show the others.”
Jax stiffens in my lap, his head snapping back to look at me with wide, panicked hazel eyes. “What? No, Ryker, please don’t make me go out there like this. Aiden’s going to tease the hell out of me.”
I let the silence hang for a second, my expression going flat. I don’t do well with the word no, and he knows it. He’s been learning the boundaries of this arrangement, figuring out where the line is and what happens when he steps over it. At this second, he’s toeing the edge.
I narrow my eyes, letting a low, sharp hiss slip through my teeth. The sound freezes him in place. It works every time. He goes still, his mouth snapping shut, the defiance draining out of his posture.
“You’re going to walk out there, and you’re going to let them look at you,” I say, my voice dropping. “You don’t tell me no.”
Jax swallows hard. His shoulders slump, and he hangs his head in defeat, staring down at my chest. “Okay.”
“Say ‘yes, Ryker’.”
“Yes, Ryker,” he mumbles, his face burning again, though this time there’s a distinct edge of arousal mixing with his embarrassment. He loves being ordered around. He just needs a little push to admit it.
I release his neck and slide my hands down to his hips, gripping the black lace one more time. I lift him off my lap and set him on his feet on the hardwood floor.
“Turn around,” I say.
He obeys, turning his back to me. The panties are basically a thong in the back, a thin strip of black lace disappearing between his cheeks, leaving the smooth curve of his ass bare except for the base of the plug in the center.
“Beautiful,” I purr, giving his left cheek a sharp smack.
He jumps, letting out a startled squeak, and rubs the red mark blooming on his skin.
I step up behind him, trailing a hand down his spine, and point toward the bedroom door. “Now go on. Walk out there and give them a show.”
I keep a firm grip on the nape of his neck, steering him down the hallway.
Jax’s bare feet pad softly against the hardwood, every step hesitant, his shoulders hunched like he’s trying to shrink into himself.
It doesn’t work. The kid is over six feet tall and built like a brick house.
Forcing him into delicate black underwear is just putting a bow on a muscle car.
He looks both ridiculous and hot as fuck.
I’m almost purring. This is the best goddamn morning I’ve had all week.
His skin is flushed a deep, blotchy pink, the color traveling all the way up his neck to the tips of his ears.
He keeps trying to pull his hands down to cover his cock, and I have to swat his wrists away twice before we reach the living room.
Sunlight spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the main living space, blindingly bright.
Ash and Aiden are posted up at the waterfall island.
Aiden’s shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth while scrolling through his phone, and Ash is nursing his second coffee of the day already, dressed in a suit that makes him look like the corporate wet dream he is.
I shove Jax a step forward into the light. He whines, trying to cross his arms over his chest again.
“Look what I brought out to play,” I announce.
Aiden’s head snaps up. He chokes on a bite of egg.
Ash pauses, his coffee mug hovering a few inches from his mouth. His eyes drink Jax in from his bare, broad shoulders, down the cut of his abs, landing dead center on the black lace cupping his junk. Ash slowly lowers the mug to the counter, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.
“Doesn’t our little cockslut look perfect in these?” I say, grinning like a shark. I step up behind Jax, grabbing his waist and spinning him around so they can get the full 360-degree view.
“Holy fuck,” Aiden breathes out, tossing his phone onto the counter. He lets out a loud, obnoxious whistle. “Look at you, boy toy. Who knew you had a thing for lingerie?”
Jax’s face is a beacon of red. He pants shallowly, staring at the floor. “I don’t. Ryker made me wear them.”
“I gave you a direct order, and you obeyed like a good boy,” I correct him, slapping my palm over his bare stomach and pulling him back against my chest. “Now stand up, put your shoulders back, and let them look.”
Jax bites his lip but stiffens his spine, dropping his arms to his sides.
The thong cut in the back leaves his ass bared, save for the black silicone plug winking at them from between his cheeks. I tap the base of it just to remind him it’s there. Jax whimpers, his cock bucking against the lace in front, a fresh bead of pre-cum oozing into the fabric.
Aiden pushes off his stool and stalks over to us, his eyes dark with amusement. He stops inches from Jax, looking him up and down.
“Damn, baby,” Aiden chuckles, reaching out. He hooks a finger under the thin lace waistband sitting high on Jax’s hip. He pulls the elastic away from Jax’s skin, stretching it taut, and then lets it snap back.
Smack.
Jax yelps, his hands flying down to cover his groin, but Aiden catches his wrists and pins them to Jax’s sides. “Uh-uh. Ryker said let us look. You’ve got a great package, Jaxon. Shame to hide it.”
Aiden squeezes Jax’s hip, his thumb rubbing over the red mark the elastic just left behind.
Jax squirms, whining, clearly dying of embarrassment but also so turned on he’s leaking through the black floral.
The wet spot is impossible to miss, sticking to the head of his cock and turning the delicate fabric darker.
Aiden leans in, blowing a puff of air over Jax’s exposed neck, laughing when the kid shivers.