34. Chapter Thirty-Four

Nursing the double shot of whiskey in front of me, I spun the heavy glass, keeping one eye on the clock on my phone. Jamie had texted when Wyatt had dropped the baby off with them, so I had a decent estimate of when Wyatt would be arriving.

He was now two minutes late, and I smiled as I took a sip of the expensive liquor, feeling it burn its way down my throat, warming me. It was only the second sip I had taken, not wanting my senses to be dulled, but needing something to occupy my hands while I waited for my sub to arrive.

If all went according to my plan, we’d be crossing a few more items off Wyatt’s little sex list. He cracked me up, the way he was always adding things to it. I had no idea where he got some of his ideas from, but I was eager and willing to help him try them all.

Even if it took the rest of our lives to work through his never-ending list.

I was tucked into a circular booth in a darkened corner. Jamie had put a reserved sign on it and had draped the table part of the booth with a long, black cloth, like I had asked him to. Thank the Goddess he hadn’t asked too many questions, and he was professional enough to keep what happened in his club to himself. Oh, I figured at one point I would get some good-natured teasing from him, but I could handle it. So long as he didn’t embarrass Wyatt, we’d be good.

I caught Wyatt’s scent before I saw him. Sweet blackberries tickled my nose, mixed with the dark musk of his slick. Like it always did, his scent had my cock hard in seconds.

Glancing up from the amber liquid I had been staring intently into, my breath caught at the sight of him walking gracefully towards me. He was all long, pale limbs, holding his head high on that slender neck of his. The red mesh jock gleamed against his light skin, his long, thin dick just poking out the top if you looked closely enough.

And there were plenty of alphas looking closely enough. A growl started low in the back of my throat, a snarl filling the air around me. Wyatt brought one graceful hand up and brushed the curls off his forehead. The low overhead light caught on the bracelets adorning his slender wrist. The red one stood out starkly, and most of the curious eyes turned away and went back to their conversation and drinks.

He belonged to someone and they now knew it.

Holding up a hand when he was a few feet away from the booth, I quietly ordered, “Stop.”

He did, his hands falling to his sides primly as he lowered his head and kept his gaze downward, on the floor.

“Crawl to me.”

I barely got those words out, as they weren’t something I would ever normally command him to do. Especially on the hard floor of the club, without kneepads of some kind for protection. And I didn’t care how clean Jamie kept this place this floor was a high traffic area, and I was astonished Wyatt had wanted to explore this particular thing. But it was on his list, and I was determined to give him what he wanted.

He dropped to his knees in a move so smooth, so fucking perfect. My cock jerked and I had to hide my smile of pleasure. Wyatt just naturally took to being a sub like he had been trained for it and had been practicing for years.

Without taking my eyes off the breathtaking sight he made, from my peripheral vision I saw several of the people in the club stop their conversations to turn and pay attention to the show we were about to put on. Both alphas and omegas were watching us with wide eyed interest.

I didn’t blame them. Had I been sitting at the bar enjoying a drink, I would have been watching this beautiful omega with his alpha too.

Wyatt crawled towards me, slowly moving inch by inch. I watched his face like a hawk for one flick of discomfort, ready to stop the scene in a heartbeat. His face reflected peace, his gaze dreamy, his pupils nearly blown. He was enjoying every second of this, already close to–if not already there–being in subspace.

Wyatt didn’t just crawl. The way his limbs moved was a dance of sensuality. His back arched, his elongated neck held his head high as he met my gaze straight on, never wavering. The perky, perfect globes of his naked ass, save for the thin string at his hips that disappeared into his crack, bounced with a natural jiggle. I could see the silky heart resting exquisitely at the top of his crack.

When he finally reached me, agonizingly long seconds that felt like hours later, he immediately went into a kneeling position, on display. His back was straight, his weight balanced expertly between his hips. His knees bent, and his legs were spread the correct amount of shoulder length apart. Affording me a perfect view of his lovely cock, the hardness of it pushing insistently against the fabric trying to valiantly contain him. Precum had already dampened it, the wet spot glistened whenever the low lights of the club would catch on it. His palms faced upwards, resting on his slender thighs.

This wasn’t a pose we had done that first night together, and I wondered if Wyatt had been practicing it. Is this what he did on the nights we didn’t spend together wrapped around one another? Did he pose in front of a mirror on the floor in one of our bedrooms, moving this way and that, until he had mastered submissive poses? The ease with which he fell into the stance, moving his body, was mesmerizing to watch.

“You’re late,” I kept my voice soft and low, not wanting our conversation to be overheard by all the prying eyes and ears. Sure, some people would no doubt use their shifter hearing to listen in and get the full effect of our scene, but I wasn’t going to make it that easy on them.

Partaking in public displays wasnt at the top of my list of favorite kinks, but I wasn’t doing this for me. This was for Wyatt, and I would do anything to make him happy. He deserved to have all his wishes and fantasies come true, and I planned to make as many happen for him as I could.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” his voice was soft, barely above a whisper, his eyes downcast, not meeting mine. I hadn’t missed the defiant little gleam in those eyes, as he had crawled on the floor towards me, head held high and directly holding my gaze. Oh, he had known well enough he was breaking the rules of submission with that little display. He had looked so glorious doing it, I was willing to overlook it this time.

I also knew what time he had dropped Julianna off, and what time he had pulled into the parking lot of Playgrounds. Dax, the bouncer, had been on the lookout for his vehicle and shot me a heads-up text. I would bet money Wyatt had deliberately been late on purpose. It was only a few minutes, something he could easily brush off to traffic, or some other excuse. It might have worked had I not been prepared and didn’t know how much my little sub liked a good punishment. I had chosen the purple bracelet on purpose to throw him off what I really had planned for him by way of a punishment.

“You’ll be punished for your tardiness.” Idly, I smoothed a wrinkle from my black suit pants, then tugged at the cuff of my white dress shirt. I hadn’t missed the widening of Wyatt’s eyes when he had seen me sitting here, dressed impeccably in a dark tailored suit, pristine white shirt, and bright red tie around my neck. It had only seemed appropriate to drag this tie–the same one I had bound his wrists together with a year ago–out of retirement.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Come here.”

He raised his head when I snapped my fingers, indicating the spot in front of my spread thighs. There was enough room between the table and the booth for him to fit. I had pushed the table back a couple of extra inches just to be sure.

He crawled forward haltingly on his knees, until he was at the exact spot I had indicated, immediately moving back into display pose. My dick throbbed inside my pants, tenting the material at how absolutely fucking perfect Wyatt was.

“You’re going to warm my cock for me while I finish my drink,” I informed him, deftly undoing my belt. He didn’t move his head to watch my movements, didn’t move one single muscle, as I unbuttoned then slid the zipper down ever so slowly. The sound was loud in our darkened corner, where I could almost forget that we were in the main part of the club, eyes watching us.

Some more experienced Doms had already lost interest, turning back to their own subs and conversations with their friends. But there were plenty of fresh, eager pups and voyeurs who were observing with bated breath.

Spreading the material of my pants, I pulled the hard length of my cock out. Precum had pooled at the tip, waiting for an eager tongue to lap it up.

“Come here,” I snapped, sounding harsh even though I wanted nothing more than to pick him up and cover him from prying eyes. If he only knew how much it was killing me to have all these eyes watching us. Watching him. My wolf was clawing at the back of my throat, a snarl waiting to erupt for anyone who dared move an inch towards our mate.

Wyatt shuffled forward, moving his head just enough that I could see his face. His gorgeous, blissed out face. His pupils were blown, dark pinpricks clouding the color of his eyes. His pink lips were parted, the tip of his tongue poking out in anticipation. His cheeks rosy, his pale skin flushed with heat.

His slick clung thick and heavy in the air around us, the blackberry scent perfuming the room. Everyone near would be able to smell him. The red bracelet around his wrist told the club floor he was off limits. And the I-dare-you-to-fuck-with-me look on my face would be a strong deterrent if anyone had the not so bright idea of trying to push their luck with me and approach my mate.

Still, I was thankful that we were doing this in Jamie’s club, where I was well known to the staff. Being the sheriff didn’t hurt either, as I was sure there were more than one or two patrons who recognized me.

“Be a good little cock warmer, slut.”

Wyatt’s eyes flared, his breathing shallow and fast, as he took a panting breath and opened his mouth wide. Lowering his head, his warm, wet, hot mouth surrounded the head of my cock and I hissed in a sharp breath as pleasure raced through me. His tongue lapped at the drop of precum, and I tangled my hands in the short hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him off my cock sharply.

“This isn’t a blow job, slut. No sucking. No licking. You just hold my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours and keep it warm for me. Understand?”

He blinked his eyes at me one time to show his understanding, making no effort to break the brutal hold I had on his hair and neck.

“Good. This is punishment, not pleasure,” I informed him, releasing my grip on his head. “You don’t get to enjoy my cock. And when I finish my drink, I’m going to fuck that pretty hole of yours, here, in front of anyone who wants to watch. And you’re going to be a good boy and take it, aren’t you?”

His answer was a sharp gasp, a moaned acceptance. His thighs squeezed together, and the sweet scent of blackberries hung heavier around us. “Back to it.”

Nudging him down by his shoulder, he easily fell back into position, his greedy mouth surrounding my cock with wet heat. Sipping my drink was a slow form of torture. Why had I thought I would be able to sit here, with Wyatt’s mouth cradling my dick inside, without slowly losing my mind?

I was aware of everything he did, every twitch of his muscles, every swallow. He was perfect, not using his tongue or mouth for anything but holding my cock in it. And the sight of him! Sitting on his knees, perfect ass resting on the backs of his calves, eyes closed, his face one of absolute relaxation. The sight of my cock disappearing into his mouth nearly had me spilling down his throat without him putting any effort into it.

Finally, I had had enough of this game of pretending to drink the overpriced alcohol that I was barely even sipping. I had noticed Finn and Wade from across the room, moving through the club on their way to a private room. Finn’s eyes had briefly held my gaze, then he’d given a quick nod of acknowledgement and hurried Wade past us.

I was thankful the other Dom hadn’t stopped to have a chat, because it was taking all my concentration not to come inside Wyatt’s waiting mouth, and I was sure I wouldn’t have been able to form a coherent sentence. I was glad Wyatt hadn’t seen them, because that could have been extremely awkward.

Wyatt looked completely relaxed, his body unmoving, his muscles lax. I was glad one of us was relaxed. I was about to lose my mind with need.

Tapping him on the shoulder, I got his attention. He blinked sleepy eyes at me, but he didn’t let go of my dick in his mouth. “Enough. Come here.”

He gave my dick a quick suck, the imp, and I shuddered beneath his touch. Grabbing him by his armpits, I hauled him up my body, slamming my mouth over his. My tongue ravished him, until we were both panting harshly with need, his nearly naked body writhing against mine restlessly. He was practically humping my leg, his slick ass leaving a wet spot on the thigh of my pants.

Slapping his bare ass lightly, I ordered, “Turn around.”

He did, facing the main area of the club, the long bar filled with patrons. The club had gotten busier in the last half hour, all the stools filled, as well as most of the booths on the main floor. The dance floor was still empty, as was the stage area where demonstrations were usually held.

Grasping him by his narrow hips, I backed him up until the backs of his legs hit my knees. He grasped the table in front of him to steady himself.

“Pull it towards you,” hoarsely, I gave him another order.

He did, pulling the table with him as I moved his ass closer to my hips. The table worked somewhat as a shield, which had been my intention all along. People would still be able to figure out what we were doing, but it gave us a modicum of privacy. Well, as private as one could get in the middle of a kink club.

“Scoot back and sit on my dick,” my fingers flexed on his hips, and he moaned loudly, sinking his head and arms onto the table in front of him. He took a few seconds to get his bearings, then he straightened, raising his lower half up and hovering over my cock that was standing at attention. The head angry and weeping, needing to sink into his greedy hole.

Running a hand over the red heart at the top of his ass, my finger tugged at the string caught in the crevice of his cheeks. Pulling the wet material to the side, I spread his cheeks wide. Wyatt slowly, inch by inch, sank down on my cock, his feet planted firmly on the floor, his thigh muscles straining from the effort of the position.

“Fuuuccckkk,” the gasped word escaped me, as I sank into his slick, tight heat. It didn’t matter how many times we fucked. Every time always felt like the first time. He was always tight, and I relished the feeling of his rings of muscles opening around my wide cock, their grip squeezing me.

Wyatt panted, gasping as his body took me inside him. My hands splayed over his chest, pulling him back against me. My thumbs played with his nipples, pinching them into tight nubs. Wyatt’s head lolled in that space between my neck and shoulder, his panting loud in my ears. Kissing the side of his head, his sweaty curls tickled my cheek.

Tangling a hand in his hair, I nipped sharply at his earlobe, asking softly, “You like them watching? You like having all these eyes on you? Like having them watch me fuck you?”

Eyes closed, he arched his neck, and I sucked the taut, tender skin there into my mouth hard enough to leave a mark.

“Yes…Sir,” he gasped, moaning as my fingers went back to torturing his nipples, and my teeth scraped down his neck.

“Gonna be able to cross a few things off that list of yours tonight,” I growled.

He tried to move his hips, tried to brace himself enough to rise up and sink back down, but his legs kept floundering. Abandoning my nipple play, I grasped each side of his waist tightly and snarled, “Hold on tight.”

He did as instructed. Digging his fingers into the corded muscles of my forearms, wadding up the material of my suit jacket in his fists.

I moved him then, so very fucking slowly on my cock. Up and down, sinking into him, grinding deeply against him on every downward pull. Anyone who was paying close attention would probably guess what the molasses slow up and down movement meant, but to some people it might look like I just had my submissive sitting on my lap, nothing more.

The table and cloth blocked our lower halves, and I was still almost completely dressed. The only thing out was my cock. Even Wyatt’s cock was still mostly held in by the front of the jock strap he wore.

I wasn’t done with him yet though. Oh no, I was going to make this a night he wouldn’t forget for a long time. I had promised him we were going to cross off so many things from his list tonight.

Sliding one hand across the bench seat, my fingers grasped the cool metal I had laid out next to me. Making sure to put them in the very darkest part of the booth, so that Wyatt’s keen eyes wouldn’t catch sight of them.

He was so caught up in my dick filling him up, spreading his hole wide, he didn’t even resist when I maneuvered both of his hands behind his back. He moaned at the feeling of me holding them tight in one hand, because Wyatt loved being held down.

Quickly and expertly, I slid the cool handcuffs around his wrists, snapping them shut with a sharp click.