Page 61 of Courting Danger

Chapter 17

Danger

There was no denying the state of frenzied arousal they were all in by the time they finished their kink questioners. Roan was sitting in Ocean’s lap; for fuck’s sake, the pair were going over the final page together, kissing in between giggles.

“Mmm, that was the last one, right?” Ocean groaned.

“Better be,” Roan hissed. “You promised to take your pants off.”

“And you promised to lose all your clothes, so get off me and get to stripping!” Ocean snapped, the tone of his voice cracking through the room like a whip.

It made Danger jump, blinking as he dragged his thoughts away from his aching balls. He caught Pope’s gaze, one eyebrow up, head cocked, a sinister smirk on his face, as Roan slowly slid off Ocean’s lap, dragging out the movement, drawing his bottom over Ocean’s sleep pants until Ocean groaned and gripped his hips, growling as he yanked Roan against him, hips raised to show their boy exactly what he was doing to him.

His new pup might be young and a tad inexperienced, but he was already letting his dominant side shine through rightalongside his protective one. Danger would certainly keep an eye on that, nurturing and exploring it as much as Ocean craved until he grew into the man he wanted to be. Seeing Pope clock it too, reminded him of all that Pope had done for him when he was first beginning to explore his pup headspace and reconcile his feelings for Pope with the image he had in his head of the pup he wanted to be.

Right now, there was a show to enjoy, courtesy of Ocean and Roan, and Ocean was having fun nipping the back of Roan’s neck in between rocking his hips beneath him in a slow, lazy cadence that looked to be winding Roan up even more.

“No fair…teasing after you’ve been teasing me all afternoon,” Roan grumbled.

“Yes, fair,” Ocean declared. “Since you were the one who suggested I let you sit on my cock so you could keep it warm for me while we filled out the questionnaires. Talk about unfair. That was all the way back at C when we had the whole alphabet in front of us.”

“Well, not the whole alphabet,” Roan sassed, “since we’d already gotten through A and Baaaaaa. Fuck, fuck, tickling is the ultimate not fair!”

All his squirming did was prompt Roan to wiggle around in his lap, bottom rubbing over Ocean’s cock, until Ocean locked one arm around him, pulled him flush against his chest, and tickled the hell out of him until Roan squealed.

“Now, are you gonna strip, or do I have to strip you?” Ocean growled.

Danger’s cock twitched, not just because of the tone of Ocean’s voice, but because what they were doing had brought his inner voyeur out full force. A shiver tore through Roan’s body, his back bowing until his head rested on Ocean’s shoulder as Ocean rocked him in his lap.

“I-I’ll strip,” Roan stammered, his voice coming out in breathy moans.

“Wise choice,” Ocean growled. “Otherwise, I might have owed you a T-shirt and another pair of pants.”

Oh damn.

Danger had half a mind to take his own clothes off in case Ocean decided to turn his attention on him, and a part of him hoped he did, because holy shit. Ocean in command was a thing of beauty, from the way his glittering emerald eyes shimmered beneath the chandelier to the Cheshire Cat grin on his face.

Roan hopped off his lap this time, instead of slithering, but that didn’t stop Ocean from reaching out and pinching his ass before he was out of range.

Yelping, Roan covered his bottom and whirled around, trying to look offended at Ocean’s audacity, nose wrinkled, eyes narrowed, until the twitching at the corners of his lips gave him away.

“You’re taking too long,” Ocean declared, sitting up enough to give Roan the impression that he was about to come up out of his seat.

It had the exact effect Ocean desired, leaving Danger to sit back, afforded the perfect vantage point to admire the haphazard frenzy of motion that followed. Roan’s shirt flew in Pope’s direction, while his pants were reduced to a puddle of cloth on the floor, trodden upon in Roan’s haste to step out of them before he kicked them aside.

Slipping his hand in his sleep pants, Danger palmed his erection, eyes rolling back at the first stroke.

Ocean didn’t bother to get up; he just shimmied out of his shorts and let them fall on the floor at the base of the chair as he reached for the drawer that held the condoms and lube they’d stashed there.

Danger wasn’t the only one whose clipboard lay forgotten, though at least his had landed on the table instead of the floor like Ocean’s and Roan’s.

When Pope crossed the room to sit on the end of the couch closest to Danger’s chair, he shot a glance over his shoulder at where Roan was crawling into Ocean’s lap to straddle him.

“Think they’ve forgotten we’re here?” Pope asked.

“If they have, I can’t really blame them,” Danger replied, chuckling as Ocean yanked Roan into a filthy kiss even as he snaked his hand between their bodies, fingers peeking out from beneath Roan to prod at his hole. Circling, dipping in, then slowly drawn back out until Roan pressed back, impaling himself on it, hips bucking, the kissing and the prep dragging on until he was a writhing, squirming mess.

Ocean gripped Roan’s hair, wrenching his head back to break the kiss, his hold tight enough to draw him back, body bent, thighs quivering as he clenched them against Ocean’s.