Chapter 62 Warren
WARREN
Warren decided to take the job Marcus had arranged for him.
He made the decision as he walked down the steps from the small private jet, the freezing winter air making his teeth chatter, and saw the man waiting for him.
Max was at his side, both of them visibly restraining themselves from rushing up the stairs to grab him. He could feel how relieved they were to have him home safe and how happy they were to see him.
They liked him. He could feel it, a fondness mirroring his own, layered along with love and obsession and a desire to see him splayed out and fucked, but it was the like that made him feel like everything would be okay.
Love and obsession could only carry you so far. It was deeply reassuring that he was also liked.
“Hey there,” Marcus said, grabbing him off the third-to-last step, lifting him up and wrapping him up in a huge hug. He turned and let Max join him, leaving Warren squished between two giant werewolf bodies.
The heat of two massive werewolf alphas seeped into his skin, warming him up and making him feel crushed and cozy. Cuddling Harland was nice, but he wasn’t warm. Warren hadn’t realized how cold he was until he was trapped in a werewolf double furnace.
Harland followed down the steps behind him and wrapped all three of them in a hug, draping his arms around Max and Marcus’s necks and pulling them in one at a time for a kiss on the cheek.
Warren couldn’t imagine not having this. The idea of walking away from it was unthinkable.
“The car is ready,” Marcus said after a while, taking a step back and dropping Warren to his feet. “Let’s go home.”
The drive home was spent in comfortable silence. They were all a little tired – the crash after the earlier adrenaline rush taking it out of all of them – but they were in good spirits.
Warren sat in the back seat, nestled between Max and Marcus, while Harland drove.
When they made it back to the house, they all piled into the living room where a roaring fire waited for them in the fireplace.
Someone – probably Bruce – had a pot of some kind of stew simmering in the kitchen and fresh-baked rolls cooling in the oven, the smell of which wafted into the living room and made Warren’s stomach rumble.
He hadn’t eaten since his lunch with Josh.
“I’ll go plate us up some food,” Marcus said, kissing Warren’s cheek and directing him to sit on the couch next to Max.
He came back a few minutes later with a tray of bowls of stew, a basket of rolls, water, beers and a familiar-looking bag bearing the logo of the blood donor agency that Warren had worked for.
He set the tray down on the coffee table and handed the bag to Harland, after which he divvied out the normal food for the rest of them.
The stew was just as delicious as it smelled. Tender pieces of beef, chunks of potatoes and a thick, spicy broth that was the perfect consistency to be scooped up with pieces of his buttered roll.
“Good?” Harland asked, drinking from his bag like it was a Capri-Sun. He’d unzipped his suit down to his abs and his pecs looked like they were about to burst through the compression fabric of his undersuit.
Warren made up his mind that he would push his face between them later.
“Very,” Warren and Max answered at the same time.
“Delicious,” Marcus added.
They finished eating, talking about the upcoming Christmas celebration, the next full moon, and about how Warren’s finals had gone. They avoided talking about Warren’s encounter with the creature from Florida.
Looking back on it, Warren wasn’t that freaked out. The whole thing had clearly rattled his mates to an extreme degree, but the entity – Warren decided that it felt like a she – had been polite and borderline friendly.
He wouldn’t take her up on her invitation to enter her territory any time soon, but he didn’t feel like she meant him any harm.
Glancing at Harland, he pondered the entity’s comment that he’d chosen well. He probed his bond to the vampire, testing it and making the man in question glance at him, and there was a distinctively juicy quality to the energy on the other side of the bond.
Harland sent a little burst of curiosity across the bond, which drew both Marcus and Max’s attention. The three alphas looked at him, no one saying a word, the atmosphere suddenly hot and heavy.
Warren blushed and licked his lips, his cock hardening inside the confines of his maddening cage.
The uncomfortable sensation of being restricted made him squirm, the discomfort and denial only making him that much more aroused and his cock try that much harder to get free.
“How about we move this to the bedroom?” Marcus suggested, leaning back and resting his hand over his bulge. He squeezed down on his cock, staring intently into Warren’s eyes and making his stomach feel tight and hot. “Or maybe you’d like to see my playroom?”
He smirked, looking cocky, and his eyes darkened.
Warren was surprised his cage wasn’t breaking apart under the force his cock was exerting on it. He glanced at his other two mates, both of whom were watching him with hungry, eager expressions.
“The playroom sounds fun,” he said, his voice cracking and making him blush.
“Playroom it is,” Marcus said, standing up and grabbing Warren by his waist and tossing him over his shoulder. Warren let out a scream of surprise, which cut off with a start when Marcus slapped his ass.
Fuck, that felt good.
“Again, please,” he asked, staring down at Marcus’s jean-clad bubble butt. He reached for it to give it a squeeze, but it was too far down.
Marcus laughed and delivered on his request, slapping his ass again, twice in succession, one hit on each cheek.
How getting his butt spanked could feel so good, Warren didn’t know. He wondered if the sharp sting of the belt would be as enjoyable.
Marcus would certainly look good wielding it.
He wasn’t quite brave enough to ask for it, but if Marcus brought out the belt or a flogger, Warren decided that he would go with the flow and see if he liked it.
From his upside-down viewpoint, Warren watched Max and Harland rise from their seats to follow them.
Marcus took the lead, carrying Warren at a brisk march with Max hot on his heels, with Harland following at a respectable pace in the rear.
Max was tripping over his own feet in his eagerness, and though Harland looked cool as a cucumber, the outline of his massive cock beneath his leather suit was twitching.
They entered the basement.
No matter how Warren tried to argue that being very, extremely turned on constituted an emergency worthy of breaking his chastity cage, Harland refused to budge.
“Please?” he whined, blinking up at the vampire with his most pleading puppy eyes. “I’ll do anything you want if you let me come. I promise.”
Max, the traitor, rubbed Warren’s prostate harder, milking more seminal fluid out of his trapped cock and making his whole body feel like it was going to come apart.
“This is what I want,” Harland said, tousling his hair. “Stop complaining and be a good boy before I change my mind about letting you out of the cage on Christmas morning.”
Warren gasped and looked up. “You wouldn’t.”
Harland let his impassive face do the talking. Warren gulped and realized that if he wanted the cage off before the new year, he would have to endure this.
It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He was on his stomach, strapped securely to a bondage bench, his trapped cock hanging between his thighs while Max kneeled behind him and fingered his hole.
Harland was at his front, teasing him with his bulge, pressing it against his face and letting him breathe the heady musk of his balls while he stroked his hair.
Harland had unzipped his suit all the way down to the bottom of his crotch, exposing his compression briefs and the thick bulge of his cock. The hard length throbbed, begging to be let out.
Marcus was somewhere to his right, doing something that Warren couldn’t see, but he could hear him moving around and he could feel his arousal and anticipation across the bond.
The sound of a whip cracking somewhere behind him made him jolt and break out into a cold sweat.
That sounded intense!
“Jesus, Marcus,” Max said, adding a finger to Warren’s hole and scissoring them before pushing down on his prostate and making another spurt of fluid leak from Warren’s cock. “That one looks a bit too hardcore for him.”
“It is,” Marcus said, swishing the whip around and making it sing. “I just like the way it feels, and it does a good job of setting the mood, don’t you think?”
Max laughed. “Holy fuck, yes.”
“This one is more his speed, I think,” Marcus said, coming closer. Warren tried to look, but Harland pushed him back into the space where the base of his cock met his thigh. “It’s beginner-friendly.”
A collection of soft leather strands draped themselves across Warren’s back, the leather cold and heavy as the collection of strands came to rest between his shoulder blades and lower back.
That was a flogger. Warren recognized it from all the porn he’d watched featuring big, muscular guys putting skinny little guys like him through the wringer.
The thrill that coursed through his stomach was the same kind of feeling that he had climbing a rollercoaster.
“If you say stop, we stop,” Marcus reminded him.
“I know,” Warren said. He turned his head to look at Marcus, and this time Harland let him.
If his cock hadn’t been locked up, he would have come.
Marcus had taken his clothes off, and now he stood there, naked as the day he was born, except for a pair of tight leather gloves and knee-high leather boots.
He lifted the flogger and flicked his wrist, bringing it gently down on Warren’s back.
It didn’t hurt at all. The impact was muted, a light thud, followed by a feeling of warmth.
Harland reached into his underwear and freed his cock. “If your mouth is busy, tap out if you need it,” he reminded him, tracing the tip of his leaking cock all across Warren’s face.