Page 69 of Dangle

“Varying based on the infraction and intent behind the infraction, but possibilities include no sexual contact, orgasm denial, edging with orgasm denial, sitting in silence with Slone, and spanking.” I nearly laughed when he wiggled in his seat at the mention of being spanked.

“Safe words?”

“I still don’t think these are necessary?—”

“Trey, they are always necessary in a kink dynamic.”

“Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Slone and Trey will use standard stoplight safe words. This rule goes both ways. Either partner can use them if they feel the need. No judgment.”

The longer we spent together, the more the brat in him escaped, and the happier I became.

“Good boy.”

“That should not be so fucking hot.”

I smirked as he adjusted himself under the table. Standing to clear the table, I said, “C’mon, brat. Help me clean up.”

He groaned, his forehead smacking the table as he said, “I’m going to die if we have to wash all those dishes by hand.”

“Nope. Dishwasher this time. I’m done waiting to get you under me.”

“Thank fuck,” he said, jumping to his feet.

Within a few moments, we put away all the leftovers; the dishes were in the now-running dishwasher or hand-washed, and the counters had been cleaned. I threw the cleaning rag in the sink to add to the laundry later and snagged Trey by the waist.

“You’re sure about this?” I asked, my mouth hovering over his while I searched his eyes for anything less than complete certainty.

“Yes, sir.”

That sir sent shivers through my body. We’d agreed Daddy would come when and if he was ready. I didn’t give a fuck what he called me as long as he was mine. That didn’t mean I didn’t want him to call me Daddy, because I did. And when, not if, when that honorific tumbled from his beautiful mouth, I wanted to be balls deep with the boy begging for mercy. If there were a higher power, that’s how I would hear it—seriously—for the first time.

“Should I…”

“You shouldn’t do anything. I have you right where I want you.”

“In the kitchen?” he asked.

My hand shot up, gripping his chin—fingers on one side, thumb on the other. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t be a brat. My control is hanging by a thread.”

“What if I can’t help myself and it breaks?”

“The first time I fuck you will be bent over this island with your pants around your ankles and my dick fucking the life from you.”

“Yes, please. Fuck me. Just like that. I want it.”

That was it. The last straw. I took his mouth brutally, all teeth and tongue, biting, sucking, and licking. My mouth moved to his neck. “I’m going to let you suffer for making me wait so long to have you. Do you want to suffer for me, brat?”

The response came in a shivery, sucking breath that entered his lungs loudly. The shiver in his breath translated into a tremor in his body.

Worried that the filth coming from my mouth had gone too far, I asked, “Color?”

“Green,” he whimpered as my hand ghosted over his protruding dick.

Fuck me, he was a gorgeous man. Insanely gorgeous. And that expressive face and body came with a responsiveness I fucking craved so much it felt bone deep, as if it was part of my DNA.

“Good boy.”

Another shiver ran through him.