Demons Within [For Love of Authority] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

by Rhiannon Ayers

  He had cried. He wasn’t proud of it, but it had happened. They were so amazing. So perfect. So wonderful. Why on earth would they want a fucked-up loser like Allen? But somehow, he’d been lucky enough to earn their love, and now they wanted to make it a permanent arrangement. Wiping tears from his cheeks, he’d whispered, “Please, take me home.” Then he was being hugged breathless by both of them, laughing and crying by turns as they covered his face with kisses.

  Allen cleared a suddenly dry throat as he slid into Tatum’s car, ignoring the burn of tears behind his eyes. He’d cried enough today, thank you. He wasn’t a five-year-old, for Christ’s sake. He needed to man up, not get so emotional just because the two people he loved more than life itself seemed to love him just as much. He just needed to take things one day at a time, cherish every moment with them and stop worrying about the future. He was theirs. They would take care of him, heart, mind, body, and soul.

  He just needed to believe.

  Tatum reached over from the driver’s seat, clasped Allen’s clenched fist where it lay in his lap. Allen looked up to find his lover regarding him with deep understanding. “I love you,” Tatum said simply. “I’m glad you’re coming home with us.”

  Allen smiled, swallowed hard. “I love you, too. Let’s get out of here.”

  Tatum nodded, a grin lighting his gorgeous face as he shifted the car into gear and backed them out of the driveway. Allen watched the house disappear, wondering if he’d ever be able to go there again without remembering all the ways his lovers had fucked him.

  Probably not.

  He grinned, suddenly happy beyond belief. He’d been right, after all—about that day, over two weeks ago now, when he’d been certain that first meeting with Tatum was going to become a major turning point in his life. He just hadn’t realized how much his life could change, how many things he would come to know about himself, his soul-deep needs, and about his new lovers. Granted, they still had a lot to learn about each other, but damn if it wouldn’t be a fun ride along the way. And the future stretched endlessly before them, with thousands upon thousands of roads they could travel together. A house, pets, kids…

  That thought brought him up short. He glanced at Tatum, cleared his throat, and said, “Can I ask you something?”

  Tatum barked out a laugh. “The last time you said that to me, I nearly choked to death. Do I need to prepare myself this time?”

  Allen chuckled. “I don’t think so.” He paused, bit his lip. “Actually, my question is about Sidri. Is it okay to talk about her when she isn’t here? You know her better than I do. I don’t want her to think we’re, you know, gossiping behind her back.”

  Tatum was silent for a time, obviously considering Allen’s question seriously. He loved that the big man didn’t immediately answer, that he truly thought about Sidri’s wants and needs before committing himself. It showed how much he loved her, how much he valued her high opinion of him, and how hard he tried to protect her. It made Allen all warm inside, because he knew that Tatum would do the exact same thing for him, too.

  “You can always ask,” Tatum said at last. “There may be some things that are Sidri’s alone to share, and I will refer you to her for those answers. But we don’t have any secrets from each other, or from you.” He glanced Allen’s way with a soft smile. “Ask away. If I can answer, I will.”

  Allen drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Sidri told me about…what happened. About how she…can’t have children.”

  Tatum sighed. “Yeah, she told me she told you about that.” He shot Allen a significant look. “She’s never told anyone about that before, baby. Ever. You’re the first one she’s ever trusted with that information. This goes without saying, obviously, but please don’t share that with anyone else. It stays between the three of us. Please.”

  “I would never share something told to me in confidence,” Allen asserted quietly. “I hope you know that. And I hope you and Sidri will give me the same courtesy. About my past, I mean.”

  Tatum released the gearshift, clasped Allen’s hand tightly, and brought his knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss. “Of course. You can trust us, baby. With everything.” He gave Allen a soft smile. “So, what’s your question?”

  Allen cleared his throat. “Have the two of you ever considered…alternate methods of having children?” he asked quickly, almost stumbling over the words. The tips of his ears turned red, and he cursed himself for being embarrassed by this whole subject. “There are lots of kids out there who need homes. Have you ever considered adoption?”

  Tatum gave him a one-armed shrug. “Honestly? No. Not because Sidri would never consider it. We’ve just never spoken of it.” He scowled, his mouth turned down at the corners. “She closed the subject when we were eleven years old. We’ve never spoken of it since, except the night she told me when she let you know her secret. Maybe…” He licked his lips, glanced at Allen, looked away quickly. “Maybe with you in our lives, she’ll be, I don’t know, more open to discussing the possibilities. Especially since…” But he trailed off abruptly.

  Allen watched him in silence, wondering about the myriad emotions crossing his lover’s handsome face. Tatum was obviously thinking hard, weighing the wisdom of sharing something with him. He could do nothing but wait.

  And hope Tatum trusted him as much as he trusted Tatum.

  Finally, after an interminable silence, Tatum spoke. “This stays between you and me, Allen…Unless Sidri specifically asks you about it, in which case you will answer her immediately, without hesitation. All right?”

  “Of course,” Allen replied promptly.

  Tatum sucked in a breath and said in a rush, “Sidri’s parents had her eggs frozen.”

  Allen’s eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. “Say what?”

  Tatum winced. “I’m not sure if she knows…but I kind of doubt it. Sid was passed out by the time we made it to the hospital that day. She’d been bleeding like crazy, like she’d been stabbed or something. By the time we got to the hospital, she was so low on blood they had to hook her up to three IVs just to get it back inside her fast enough. When the doctors took her for the MRI and came back with the news that her uterus was malformed, they said the only thing that could possibly save her was a hysterectomy.”

  Tatum shivered, closing his eyes briefly. Allen reached over and rested his hand over Tatum’s on the shifter, rubbing the back of his big, sensitive hand with his thumb. Tatum shot him a grateful look, cleared his throat, and continued.

  “I think her parents had forgotten I was there,” Tatum admitted in a voice full of anguish. “Or they thought I was too young to understand what was going on. Anyway, I was standing right there when the doctor informed them she would never have kids on her own. But, he said, her ovaries were perfectly fine—and if her parents wanted to, they could have her eggs frozen so someday, when she did want to have kids, she could get a surrogate and still have a baby from her own eggs.”

  Allen shook his head, utterly flabbergasted. “And Sidri doesn’t know about this?”

  Tatum shrugged again. “I honestly don’t know. But I don’t think so. I remember her mom trying to explain it to her, but Sidri just…stared at her. With dead eyes. I don’t think she was coherent enough to understand that just because she herself couldn’t carry the baby didn’t mean it couldn’t be hers. She was too traumatized to process anything beyond the fact that she couldn’t have kids herself.” He shook his head, voice falling into a pained whisper.

  “She was so devastated, Allen,” he strangled out. “She pretended to be a tomboy, I think because I was her best friend, and she wanted to be like me and like the things I liked. But she had dolls in her room when we were growing up. Baby dolls, the ones that came with birth certificates and all that stuff. And I know she daydreamed about having kids. She always talked about us getting married, about having a house full of children.”

  “Oh, honey,” Allen said, aching for the man he loved.

  Tatum
gave him a half smile. Then he sobered. “Afterward…she just stopped talking about it. Stopped talking about getting married, stopped talking about having a family of any kind. I think she decided that God was telling her she wasn’t meant to be a mother, period, and that she wasn’t going to be allowed to have a normal life. She gave up. Just like that, she gave up.

  “And she’s never talked about it, not once, since the day it happened.” He swallowed hard, looked Allen straight in the eye. “Not until you.”

  Allen’s throat convulsed, emotions running riot through his body. Christ, he had no idea. He’d seen how much it hurt Sidri, when she told him about what happened to her. But he had no idea how significant it really was that she’d told him in the first place. She’d revealed a major soul wound, entrusted it to Allen without a second thought.

  She trusted him. Even then, she trusted him. It blew his mind, made his heart swell with so much love for her. She was such a strong, Dominant personality. But just like Tatum, just like Allen, she had her own demons to fight. And she’d entrusted one of them to Allen’s care on their very first night together.

  It humbled him. Awed him. Overwhelmed him.

  Surreptitiously, he wiped tears from his eyes and cleared the frogs from his throat. “Thank you. For telling me. Maybe someday, when Sidri feels comfortable enough to talk to us about it, we can talk about our options. Adoption or surrogacy. Either one would be…”

  “A dream come true,” Tatum finished with a charming little smile. Allen leaned over the center console, kissed the man’s stubbly cheek gently. Tatum’s eyes widened for a second, then he blushed bright red. Allen pretended not to notice, just turned his attention back to the scenery outside his window.

  But he was grinning like a madman.

  Chapter 22

  Jesus, had Allen really thought his first day at MM&M was the hardest?

  He shivered, squared his shoulders, and stared at his reflection in the mirrored surface of the elevator wall. He didn’t look any different. Still that damningly beautiful face, that tight, fit body that women drooled over so much. No one would be able to tell, just by looking at him, that he’d discovered he could enjoy getting fucked by a man, that he lived for being shared by two Dominants.

  No one could tell he was a sexual submissive.

  Still, nerves buzzed under his skin—stupid bees—and he felt like a kindergartener headed to class for the first time in his life. Smiling at himself, Allen shook his head, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Everything would be fine. He could do this. Work and play could be separated, even if it killed him.

  He sought refuge in memory, as always. Yesterday evening, Tatum had driven him back to his townhouse, both to retrieve his Viper and to pack up as many clothes and personal items as they could fit between the two vehicles. They would send moving trucks for the rest of his stuff, put the furniture and things they didn’t need in storage for now. Tatum had said they had a beach house down in Galveston that wasn’t fully furnished, so Allen’s couches and tables could likely be used there. It made Allen go all gooey inside, thinking about his stuff being a part of their possessions.

  Just like he was.

  When they finally made it to Sidri and Tatum’s gorgeous adobe-style mansion, Allen was rightfully impressed. The house was two stories, with exposed beams near the flat roof and black wrought-iron accents at every window. The circle drive was paved with reddish brick, bordered by hedges that had been trained into perfect spheres. Allen loved the place instantly. He was home.

  Once they had all of his stuff unpacked—hanging his clothes in their closet, in the area Sidri had cleared for him with her own hands, made him cry tears of joy—they sat down to watch TV while Tatum whipped up a celebratory dinner.

  “I can’t cook to save my life,” Sidri informed him with a little grin. “If it doesn’t come on a takeout menu, I can’t serve it. Thank God you and Tatum can both cook, because otherwise we’d starve to death.”

  Allen grinned right back at her. “Next time, I’ll put together one of my famous Columbian specialties. You’ll never go back to Tex-Mex.”

  “Looking forward to it,” she said with obvious relish. Then she climbed into Allen’s lap, and they made out like teenagers until Tatum announced dinner was ready. Shaking slightly, lips kiss-bruised and swollen, Allen let his lovers lead him to the table. It was their first meal together as a true triad, living in the home they shared. He had to clear his throat several times in order to make sure the tightness in his chest wouldn’t prevent him from swallowing.

  Afterward, Sidri appeared with a half gallon of Allen’s favorite ice cream, Pecan Pralines & Cream, made by the Texas ice cream mogul Blue Bell. It had been his favorite his entire life, but he rarely indulged, so getting it now was a real treat. He’d set to with a happy sigh, ignoring brain freeze as he shoveled the wonderfully creamy, sugary mixture into his mouth as fast as he could. When he finished, he looked up to find both of his lovers staring at him with so much hunger in their eyes, he dropped the spoon in his bowl with a loud clang.

  “New house rules,” Tatum said in a hoarse, lust-filled voice as he stared at Allen. “First, we will never, ever run out of this ice cream. Watching you eat it is like watching food porn.”

  Allen blushed furiously.

  “Second rule,” Sidri said breathlessly. “From now on, when you eat that ice cream, you will do so completely naked.”

  “Third rule,” Tatum said, ignoring Allen’s curse. “You will not eat said ice cream unless the three of us are alone in the house.” He paused, eyeing Allen from head to toe. “Unless, of course, you want other people to watch you get fucked senseless after you eat it.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Allen moaned. His cock was a steel bar in his jeans, already leaking.

  “Fourth rule,” Sidri said silkily as she rose to her feet, “whenever you eat that ice cream, Tatum and I will be having you for dessert.”

  And they meant it.

  In no time flat, Allen found himself bent over the dining room table, completely naked with his shoulders and upper torso pressed against the polished oak surface. Tatum stood behind him, still clothed, but with his cock free of his zipper. He took his mostly melted bowl of ice cream and dribbled the liquid all over Allen’s back, making him shake convulsively. Then he slid his pulsing cock deep into Allen’s ass, leaned forward, and began licking the ice cream from Allen’s overheated skin while he fucked him.

  Sidri, for her part, took a pillow from the couch and threw it on the floor between Allen’s feet. There she sat, cross-legged, so that her head was even with Allen’s dripping shaft. She dipped her fingers into her own bowl, then painted his aching cock with icy-cold lines of melted ice cream. Once she had him completely drenched, she sucked him into her mouth with a satisfied slurp and proceeded to lick him clean.

  They did it over and over again, feasting on his body like they were starving to death. As always seemed to happen when both his lovers fucked him, Allen hit subspace, that place where he could do nothing but float through the storm of their combined sexuality. He lost count of the number of times he came down Sidri’s throat, lost his voice with the force of his ecstatic cries. His lovers, of course, ignored him completely, taking their time, obviously enjoying their impromptu dessert immensely.

  Finally, when Allen was quivering from head to toe, Sidri climbed up on the table in front of his head, spread her legs, and smeared the remainder of her ice cream all over her pussy lips. Her green eyes sparkling with lust, she commanded him, “Eat.”

  Allen did, with enthusiasm, while Tatum continued to fuck deep and hard. He wrapped both hands around Sidri’s thighs, holding her open while she writhed and shouted her enjoyment. He worked her clit relentlessly, desperate to make her come, to make her feel half the things the two of them made him feel every time they came together like this. He clenched all the muscles in and around his ass, squeezing Tatum as much as he could, hoping the big man would come inside him soon. He wan
ted it, wanted both of them to prove how much they enjoyed playing with Allen’s body, wanted the proof of their desire in his ass and on his tongue. And when they finally gave it to him, when Tatum slammed up against him with a guttural shout and Sidri threw back her head in a silent scream, he knew he’d serviced his lovers well.

  Standing in the elevator, waiting for the ding that would deliver him to the eighteenth floor, Allen sternly told his cock to behave. There would be plenty of time for more fun and games when the three of them got home tonight. Right now, he needed to be professional.

  If only his cock would believe in that necessity, he’d be fine.

  Grinning hugely, Allen stepped off the elevator the moment the doors opened. The receptionists were all staring at him, but they’d done that since his very first day, two years ago, so he didn’t think anything about it. He walked right on by with a jaunty wave, ignoring their open-mouthed astonishment at seeing him back to work. They would get used to him again.

  It wasn’t until he was walking through the cube farm nearest his office that a skittering of unease began trickling down his spine. Everyone was staring at him. Every eye in the vicinity tracked his every move, all their faces completely blank.

  What the fuck?

  Allen shook his head, trying to hide the building disquiet in his gut. No way could anyone know about him and Sidri and Tatum. No way could they know about anything that happened over their vacation.

  But why else would they be staring at him like that the moment he got back?

  Feeling more and more exposed, Allen made a beeline for his office. He was trying to get the stupid key in the stupid lock when he heard Beatrice, Sidri’s assistant, shout at him.

  “Allen, wait! Don’t go in there!” the old woman yelled. She was trotting toward him, her little old legs pumping as hard as they could. “Allen, stop!”

  Allen forced a smile as the key finally turned in the lock. “Oh, hey, Beatrice. I just need to put my stuff down…”