Chapter 9
Danger
Funny what a night in the dungeon beneath Pope’s hand and that violet wand could accomplish when it came to breaking him out of the fucked-up mood he’d been in.
Okay, so in truth it had started to crumble the night Pope took him to his house on the beach, but on the table, Danger had finally been able to let go of the things that had been irking him and give in to the need to just relax and let go.
Seeing Ocean completely come apart when Pope had teased him with the wand, breaking out the tinsel floggers and using them to drag, instead of strike, drawing the current along Ocean’s skin until he was writhing, sealed the deal for Danger.
No way he was going to watch when he had the opportunity to let Pope play with him.
Not when Pope’s hand had steadily rubbed over the straining erection trapped in Ocean’s shorts until Ocean had come for him.
Seeing him in the throes of his release had left Danger in a heightened state of arousal that had persisted as Pope took his time letting Ocean experience all the wand’s settings.
While the highest had proven to be too intense for him, something told Danger that in time, Ocean would request it again and love the stinging intensity Pope delivered when he zapped him.
When Roan had gotten up there, he’d seemed almost shy about admitting that the middle setting was the highest he wished to experience, but when Pope had assured him he wouldn’t dial it any higher than that, he’d relaxed and stretched out on his belly, though he had flipped around before Pope finished with him to see what it felt like on his front.
Like Ocean, he’d giggled when Pope had it on the lowest setting and squirmed around until Pope stroked his back and got him to settle before applying the wand again.
By the time Pope started working his way towards the middle range, Roan had been a writhing mess.
Like Ocean, he came with Pope caressing him through his shorts and cuddling against the man, quivering, once the session was over.
Danger had been a ball of anticipation by the time he’d climbed up there.
“You want it hard or easy, pup,” Pope growled in his ear once Danger was sprawled out on his back on the table.
He’d commandeered one of the cushions from in front of the stripper poles for Ocean and Roan to curl up on together; the pair flopped together in a tangle of arms and legs, watching them together.
“Never easy,” Danger whispered, pausing for a moment, gaze locking with Pope’s; he licked his lips before adding, “Sir.”
Pope cupped his cheek, his blue gaze shimmering with intensity as he smiled down at him. “As you wish.”
He knew what he asked for. Somewhere between medium and the highest setting, the electricity skimmed above his pubes since Danger had opted to get naked for him.
He’d wanted to feel the wand on his cock, and Pope made sure he did, moving from his inner thighs to Danger’s erect member, then his balls, tapping Danger’s thigh to get him to widen his legs so he could reach his taint.
Keening, Danger’s brain screamed “fuck”, but not in a way that meant it was too much. It was more like desperation as desire became all-consuming. “Fuck me now” was what he longed to demand, the words escaping him completely when Pope teased his nipple with the wand.
His mind had settled then, trusting Pope the way he always had, even when the man pinned him to the table with a forearm across his chest and teased his inner thighs with stinging slaps from the tinsel until Danger grabbed hold of him, clinging, hips fucking the air as Pope delivered even harder electricity-infused slaps.
Sobbing, Danger had shivered in his arms when the blows slowed, Pope’s voice in his ear murmuring praise and a question Pope never expected to be asked.
“Want me to finish you with my hand or my mouth the way I used to?”
With Ocean and Roan, he’d only offered his hand, keeping it above their clothing, since they’d opted to keep them on.
Danger gulped in air, throat dry and beginning to feel a bit scratchy after all the crying out and gasping he’d done.
“The way y-you u-used to,” he’d rasped in Pope’s ear, slowly easing the hold he had on the man so Pope could move.
The intensity in Pope’s gaze, coupled with the heat curling through his body, radiating from the stings on his thighs and speeding outward, left Danger already teetering on the edge, so when Pope wrapped his lips around Danger’s cock, he nearly came just from the feel of his tongue.
Every thought flew out of his head as he surrendered to the pleasure, forgetting what always came when he reached the moment when the world threatened to shatter.
It did.
When Pope pressed the violet wand to his hole, Danger came down his throat.
Everything after that was static, including the feel of Pope’s leather against his cheek when he’d climbed on the table with him and pulled Danger into his arms, half sprawled across his lap while he came down from a high unlike any he’d experienced in years.
He’d drifted after that until Pope urged him down from the table and over to the cushion where the boys made space for him. It was cramped with three of them, forcing Pope to sit on the floor beside it as he touched base with them.
Since then, Danger hadn’t put in more than a four-hour stretch in the office since Roan had proved to be highly efficient when it came to doing any task Danger had given him, including getting everything placed precisely in the files to Danger’s exacting specifications.
Which was why he was parked in a booth enjoying a platter of chicken strips and the homemade honey mustard dipping sauce Night had whipped up to go with them.
Several feet away, Roan played pool with Taz, revealing yet another skill Danger hadn’t known he possessed.
He was schooling the club brother, who had four balls left on the table, while Roan lined up a shot on the eight, gesturing to the corner pocket, which would require double banking to pull off.
Chicken strips momentarily forgotten, Danger took a moment to appreciate the intensity on Roan’s face when he exhaled, drew back the stick, and hit the cue ball, driving it into the eight.
It bounced off the first bank, ricocheted off the second, and dropped into the hole he’d indicated, leaving Taz staring in disbelief.
“Damn, that was a sweet shot,” Taz muttered, rubbing the back of his neck while Roan pocketed the two twenties lying on the rail.
“It sure was,” Danger called out, making Roan’s eyes light up more than they were already gleaming.
He didn’t gloat though, which was a change for him.
“Thanks for the game,” Roan said before heading Danger’s way, just as the door slammed open and Kong came storming in, bellowing Roan’s name.
Roan’s expression went from pleased to confused as Kong bellowed his name again, charging like an out-of-control freight train, until Danger slid from the booth and stepped in his path. Nostrils flaring, one meaty fist waving in Roan’s direction, Kong was near seven feet of walking, snorting fury.
“Get out of the way!” Kong snarled.
“Not until you tell me what you’re looking to beat his ass for, since he hasn’t left my sight all day.”
Kong opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, blinking at Danger like he’d grown a second head.
“A-all day?” Kong growled, struggling to rein in his fury. “Every second, you haven’t taken your eyes off him once.”
“I didn’t follow him into the stall earlier when he had to take a shit, if that’s what you’re asking, but the only place he went when he came out was with me to the game room to play Sonic,” Danger declared.
“Ask Kat; she joined us for a couple games while Night was making a test batch of cheesecake egg rolls. He hasn’t quite nailed it yet, but he’s getting close.
Should be on the menu before the end of the week. ”
The longer he talked, the calmer Kong grew, while Roan remained silent and still behind Danger instead of instigating the way he normally would. Further proof that he wasn’t the cause of whatever had Kong in a snit.
“It wasn’t him,” Kong muttered, gaze darting from Danger’s face to stare at Roan.
“Whatever the fuck happened, it wasn’t him,” Danger reiterated.
“Somebody rigged an exploding glitter bomb in Scout’s saddlebags; after they covered the whole damned bike with Post-it notes, several of them are covered in doodles of a hand flipping people off. Scout’s outside covered in glitter, ready to go to war,” Kong explained.
“He’ll have to find another target,” Danger declared.
“Yeah, I guess he will,” Kong said, grumbling beneath his breath as he shot Roan another look before turning and storming back out the door.
When Danger turned, he saw Taz several feet behind Roan, lips twitching, but he sure as fuck waited to laugh until the door slammed shut behind Kong, Kat’s voice trailing him out the door.
“You best not bring him in here until every speck of glitter is gone,” she warned.
Not that he could blame her. Use of glitter in the dungeon was only approved for demonstrations like the one Scoundrel had put on the other night; as a rule, they tried to keep the shit out of the place.
If Scout was as covered as Kong claimed, it was going to be a few days before they’d deglittered him enough for Kat to let him back in here.
“Thank you,” Roan muttered, barely audible over Taz’s laughter.
“If it was you, you’d better hope Kong doesn’t figure it out,” Danger cautioned.
“B-but,” Roan stammered, immediately puffing up, eyes narrowing into an indignant look.
“Not you,” Danger barked, harsher than he’d intended to.
Taz held his hands up, shaking his head, still chuckling. “I didn’t do shit but laugh. Whoever pulled it off, that’s a hell of a prank.”
Danger shook his head, fighting back the urge to chuckle so he didn’t give Roan any bad ideas. “Sit,” he said to Roan. “And help me polish off these chicken fingers.”