Allen blinked, surprised to find himself on his side, underneath a thin sheet and wrapped around Sidri’s sleeping body. She slept on her back, with her legs canted up to form vertical triangles, and it was the most natural thing in the world for Allen to slide his thighs underneath her knees. With her legs draped over his lower body, he felt held down, protected. Safe.
And then, of course, there was the benefit of having his face buried in the curve of her throat, right at eye level with her gorgeous breasts.
Groaning, Allen cinched his arm more firmly around her waist and glanced at the clock on her bedside table.
4:00 a.m.
Damn, he really must have blacked out. But then, great sex will do that to a guy. Grinning, he closed his eyes, reliving every moment, reliving Sidri’s sexual abandon, Tatum’s commands, his demand for Allen to come…
Allen’s eyes popped open and he frowned. He and Sidri were alone in the bed. Tatum was gone.
Sidri’s fingers caressed his scalp, his neck. Allen blinked and looked up at her. He’d thought she was asleep, but apparently not. Her green eyes were wide open, looking at him with such love, he wanted to melt into her gaze forever.
But the man they both loved was missing.
“Where’s Tatum?” he asked sleepily. Then a thought occurred to him. “Bathroom?”
“No, baby,” Sidri said quietly. But she didn’t elaborate.
Allen frowned, wishing the fog would clear from his brain. There was something he was missing, something important, but he could not for the life of him figure out what it was. He blinked at her, cleared his throat. “Where?”
She sighed, continued petting him. “He left a while ago.”
Allen’s blood turned to ice in his veins. “He left?” he asked hoarsely. “But…”
“He’s still in the house,” she assured him quietly. But her eyes were sad. “He’s across the hall.”
Okay, normally, he was a lot smarter than this. He felt like she was speaking in riddles. Or maybe Swahili. The words just didn’t make sense. “Why?” he asked after a long pause.
Another sigh. “Tatum is a strong man, physically,” she said into the darkness. “But inside, he’s so much dandelion fluff. That heart of his has enough room to hold a thousand, a million people, but the walls are paper thin.” She looked him in the eye and smiled sadly. “He has his own demons to fight, Allen.”
That brought him up short. Wishing the stupid hamsters in his brain would get a move on, he licked his lips.
“What are his demons?”
She was quiet for a long time. “Tatum is deathly allergic to cats, did you know that?” He shook his head, not sure if this segue was in answer to his question. “He gets hives, watery eyes, stuffy nose, the whole nine yards. He’s known since we were little that he couldn’t have a cat.” Her green eyes sparked in the darkness. “And yet, there was one time, several years ago, when he did it anyway.
“He was walking down some street in the neighborhood, I forget why now. It wasn’t too terribly long ago, maybe six or seven years—I was in Australia, doing the merger with our people out there. Anyway, he was walking, and he came across a cardboard box that was battered and water stained, falling apart. And inside were six kittens, all of them pathetically malnourished, looking as if someone had tried to drown them.”
“That’s sad,” Allen said, aching. He knew what it was like to be thrown away, abandoned. He’d rescued his fair share of animals, too.
“It is. Tatum has a heart of gold, Allen. He took those kittens, all six of them, and brought them home. He fed them, by hand, and cared for them until each and every one of them had a home.”
“How could he feed them by hand?” Allen said, his mental processes starting to work just a little better. “He’s allergic.”
“Exactly,” Sidri replied with a little laugh. “The poor man was miserable the entire time he cared for those kittens. It got so bad at one point, a neighbor called an ambulance, and Tatum had to sit in the back with an oxygen mask on his face for a couple of hours while they pumped him full of antihistamines. The EMTs scolded him, saying he was playing with fire, keeping those cats around. Some people can take anti-allergy meds and be okay, but not him. They warned he might go into an asthmatic fit if he didn’t get rid of them.
“But Tatum, of course, refused. He was going to find those poor kittens homes, even if it killed him.” She fell silent, obviously remembering. Allen waited. Finally, she said, “That’s the kind of man he is, Allen. He takes care of people, of anything and anyone, really, no matter what harm may befall himself. If people would let him, he’d care for the whole human race. His heart is just that big.”
Her voice went quiet, sad once more. “But, unfortunately, that capacity has also left him vulnerable. There have been times—many, many times—when he’s let someone into his heart, only to have them bust right back out again. And it hurts him. So, so much.”
Allen swallowed hard, throat thick. “What does that have to do with me?”
A long pause.
“He’s afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” Allen whispered, desperately trying to make his mind function properly. “Afraid of me?” The thought was ludicrous. Tatum could rip his head off his shoulders without half trying.
“Afraid of being hurt.” She licked her lips, then murmured breathily, “Again.”
Allen could only blink at her. If he’d thought last night was surreal…“I don’t understand.”
She closed her eyes but returned to him immediately. “Sometimes, what happens in the dark isn’t acceptable in the cold light of day. It’s happened to us before. Men we slept with who were…enthusiastic, so long as the action remained between the sheets. Outside the bedroom, they were embarrassed by themselves. Embarrassed by their attraction to Tatum. Embarrassed by his Dominance.”
Allen scowled. “I’m not them.”
She petted him, gentling him. Her smile turned wistful. “I know that, baby. So does he, trust me. But the fear is still there. Still eating him alive.”
“What is he afraid of, then?”
Sidri’s eyes turned solemn. “He’s afraid that if he sleeps here, with us, you’ll wake up in the morning and hate what we did together during the night. That you’ll hate him.”
Allen’s jaw dropped. He was stunned. Utterly, completely, totally stunned. That a strong, self-confident man like Tatum could be so convinced he would be reviled…It floored him. He stared at Sidri, shock locking his voice in his chest. She regarded him solemnly, keeping up her gentle touches, but otherwise made no comment.
Sidri was wondering the same thing, Allen realized. Wondering if Allen would wake tomorrow and be embarrassed by the things they’d done together. Wondering if Allen would turn on Tatum the way others apparently had.
No wonder Tatum had been so afraid of rejection earlier.
Allen sat bolt upright, throwing the covers off the bed. He rummaged around on the darkened floor, searching for his shorts, but when he couldn’t find them immediately, he growled with frustration. Damn the shorts. He strode to the door.
“Allen,” Sidri called.
He paused, hand on the doorknob, and turned back to the bed. She was outlined in moonlight, a glowing white goddess lying naked under that thin sheet, breasts exposed to the cool early-morning air. At any other moment, Allen would have turned around, crawled right back into that bed, and sank his cock deep inside her. Maybe he would, at that.
But right now, he had something he needed to do.
He waited, agitation rising. Sidri regarded him silently for a moment, then said quietly, “Be certain. Be sure. Don’t bring him back unless you know you won’t wake up tomorrow and regret discovering him in the bed with us. Don’t do that to him, Allen. Please.”
He shuddered, closing his eyes for a moment. Then he yanked the door open and marched across the hall.
The bedroom door was cracked open slightly. Allen approached on cat’s paws, peeked into the dark
ened room. He could see nothing but the corner of a bed, obviously still made. Biting his lip, hoping he had the right room, Allen pushed the door open.
The bed was still made because Tatum wasn’t sleeping in it. He sat on the edge, bent at the waist with his elbows braced on both knees, fingers laced behind his head. At the sound of the door swinging wide, he jerked and looked up, his face showing surprise, appreciation—since Allen was standing there, completely naked—and then his expression went totally, quietly blank.
“Hey, man,” Tatum said, his voice thick and gravelly. “I didn’t know you were awake.”
Allen studied the much bigger man, noting the tension knotting his shoulders, the slightly wild glaze to his eyes. He had no idea, none, why Allen would be confronting him in the middle of the night. Apparently, he hadn’t thought Allen would care either way if he left.
The idiot.
Allen closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the big man’s pain as his own. Then he ran both hands through his hair and met Tatum’s gaze squarely.
“You left.” Damn, he hadn’t realized how hurt he’d been until the words came out of his mouth loaded with accusation.
Tatum, obviously taken aback, sat up straighter. “I…Well, I mean…I guess I thought…”
When he stuttered to a halt, still looking as if he expected Allen to walk away and never turn back, Allen huffed out a sigh. He squeezed the bridge of his nose, then walked all the way into the room, one hand outstretched.
“Just…come back to bed,” he said, stopping three feet away and waiting, hand out.
Tatum stared at him, obviously shocked. He didn’t move.
Allen growled, deep in his throat. He closed the distance between them, grabbed Tatum’s arm, and hauled the man to his feet. Then he slid his fingers down that arm, laced their fingers together, and pulled Tatum out the door, down the hall, and back into the bedroom where Sidri waited for them.
Where he belonged, damn it.
As soon as he had a still-stunned Tatum back inside, he closed the door behind them and approached the bed. Sidri lay where he’d left her, eyes shining with approval. Allen paused, pondering logistics.
But he must have paused too long. Tatum started loosening his fingers from Allen’s hold, started backing toward the closed door. “Look, it’s okay. Really. I’ll just…”
With a snarl that surprised everyone, including himself, Allen yanked the much bigger man around, mashed their chests together, and pulled his lips down for a fierce, possessive kiss. When he finally stopped, he pulled back enough to look in Tatum’s wide, stunned blue eyes and growled, “I wasn’t reconsidering whether I wanted you in bed with us. I was wondering who should be in the middle, okay?”
Tatum’s mouth hung open, his lips bruised by Allen’s fierce kiss. Allen tugged his short blond hair. “Mine, Tatum,” he rumbled darkly. “Mine and Sidri’s. You don’t sleep anywhere but with us.”
Time stopped as Tatum stared at him in open shock. Sidri’s gasp echoed through the room, making goose bumps rise on Allen’s arms. He was just starting to wonder if he’d gone too far, said the wrong thing…
Then Tatum’s mouth crashed over his, and he was being kissed suddenly breathless. Tatum wrapped his arms around Allen’s waist, cupped his ass with powerful hands, and lifted him bodily with one powerful move. Allen groaned, fucking loving the way this man could handle him so easily, and wrapped his arms around Tatum’s shoulders. Tatum was kissing him violently, a fierce meeting of lips and teeth, owning his mouth with every thrust of his tongue. Before he knew what was happening, he had his legs wrapped around Tatum’s waist and the bed was coming up to meet his shoulders. Tatum lay on top of him, grinding their cocks together as he continued to eat him alive.
Allen was swimming in a haze of lust, his cock leaking like a faucet, when Tatum finally pulled back and rested his forehead against Allen’s temple. He lay there, arms wrapped under and around Allen for a long moment. Allen squeezed those enormous shoulders, marveling at the sheer power of the man on top of him.
He brushed his lips along Tatum’s cheek, paused at the corner of his mouth, and whispered, “Please.”
Tatum shuddered convulsively. He claimed Allen’s mouth again, as if he couldn’t help himself, then jerked himself out of Allen’s arms and off the bed. Allen lay stunned for all of two seconds, wondering what the hell he’d done wrong.
Then Tatum landed on the bed beside him, holding something small and plastic in his hand. He grabbed Allen’s chin and forced eye contact. “You’ve never been fucked before.” It wasn’t a question.
Allen swallowed, hard. “Just…Sidri.” There went that stupid blush again. “Her fingers.”
Sidri, who lay on Allen’s other side, purred appreciatively.
Tatum chuckled. Then his eyes turned serious, and he caressed Allen’s jaw. “Trust me, okay? I promise, I won’t hurt you.”
Allen was so revved up right now, he didn’t think anything could possibly hurt him. But he nodded, still blushing, and waited. Tatum grinned, stole another hard, hot, tongue-fucking kiss, then pulled back and said, “Sid needs a little help. I want you to eat her pussy while I get a few things ready.”
Allen groaned, vibrating inside and out, and turned to the woman lying next to him. She opened her arms, and he immediately settled his weight on top of her. Her arms and legs wrapped around him like vines, holding him close as she rubbed her pussy against his aching cock. He kissed her breathless, then started kissing his way down her body the same way he had the previous night.
And just as she had before, she directed his every action, making sure he knew—loudly, and with vociferous praise—when he was doing the right things. He worked his way down her stomach, over her waist, around her thighs, and finally settled his lips on her clit. She wrapped her thighs around his head, holding him still as she ground herself against him, using his face to get herself off.
Fuck, he would never, ever get enough of this. Of them. Tatum’s big hands began caressing his whole body as he ate Sidri’s sweet cunt. Those sensitive fingers traced every muscle, followed every dip and valley, learning his erogenous places intimately. Allen groaned and panted against Sidri’s pussy lips, his face and chin dripping with the proof of her arousal. And when he felt Tatum’s big, thick fingers start tracing his anal entrance, he very nearly passed out.
“Kiss your way back up her body,” Tatum said, pulling Allen away just as Sidri started to pant with the beginning of her orgasm. She cursed the big man, trying to grind herself against Allen’s chin, but he wasn’t having any of it. “I want you buried inside her when I take your tight ass.”
Dizzy, breathless, moaning uncontrollably, Allen did as ordered, working his way back up Sidri’s body with relish. When he settled between her splayed thighs, she wiggled her hips, notching his cockhead in her entrance instantly. He sank deep in one long, smooth motion. Fuck, she was wet, so damn wet, so hot and scorching and fucking amazing…
When he tried to thrust his hips, Tatum stilled him with both hard hands gripped tight around his waist. “Be still,” he reproved mildly. “I didn’t give you permission to fuck her. Yet.”
“God…Fuck…Jesus…” Allen panted, vibrating with the need to move as Sidri’s inner muscles began milking him. Both his lovers laughed. Damn them.
Allen heard a pop, as of a plastic cap opening. Then Tatum was there, kneeling between Allen’s splayed thighs, those sensitive fingers now practically drenched with lube and pushing hard against the entrance to his body. He froze, mouth open in shock. Then his eyes rolled back in his head as one giant finger breached his ass with a single, forceful thrust.
Then Tatum began to work him.
One long, low, continuous moan poured from Allen’s throat. Tatum’s talented, knowledgeable fingers worked his ring with consummate skill, stretching and massaging muscles that had never been used this way before. Sidri wrapped her long legs around his waist, her ankles crossed high over his back, her pussy squeezing the life
out of his screaming dick. Allen was panting, writhing, about to burst into a million tiny pieces. So good, so good, so good…
Three fingers. Tatum had three huge, powerful, fucking wonderful fingers inside him now, scissoring and stretching, preparing Allen to take Tatum’s massive cock. At any other time, the thought of how big, how thick Tatum was might have frightened him into freezing up. But between Tatum’s heavenly assault on his ass and Sidri’s velvety hot sheath milking him constantly, he didn’t even have time to fear pain. He was just lost, lost in a sea of endless pleasure, lost in the two people he already loved more than life itself.
And then Tatum pulled those gloriously skillful fingers out of him, flooding his chute with yet more lube, making him wet and slippery. Allen shouted incoherently as Sidri shuddered beneath him.
Tatum’s cock was at his entrance, the wide head pushing inside, stretching him endlessly, deliciously, rocking his whole fucking world with the most insane, intense pleasure he’d ever felt in his life…
It was too fucking much. Allen exploded.
He came, hard, as Tatum shoved that wonderful, amazing, glorious cock all the way inside him, not stopping until his pelvic bone hit Allen’s ass cheeks with a loud smack. Allen writhed, completely out of control, as he poured what felt like a river of cum into Sidri’s waiting sheath. The pleasure was so intense, so profound, he couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t think, could only feel that endless, mindless pleasure as he came and came and came and came…
And when he finally stopped coming, he knew everything, everything had changed.
He lay there, panting, his face buried in Sidri’s neck as his lovers soothed and petted him. It felt like an eternity, but eventually his euphoric high lifted enough to make him realize three very important things.
First, he’d come without permission, before Tatum really had a chance to get started.
Second, Tatum was still rock hard inside him, his shaft pulsing.
Third, Sidri hadn’t come yet, either.
“I’m sorry,” Allen gasped into Sidri’s hair. His hips were twitching uncontrollably, rocking his body back and forth between them slightly.
Demons Within [For Love of Authority] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 18
