Tate's Task

by Lilith Darville

  Robert’s worry penetrates, and I give him a sharp glance. He’s about to ask Tate whether she’s okay, which will rip her right out of subspace. I shake my head. Kiss her instead. He reads my message because he does that, and Tate latches onto his lips eagerly and hungrily, showing him what he needs to hear. I order her to use my favorite barometer.

  “Count, slave.” I exchange the stingy flogger for one with thicker lashes. She surprises me by picking up where I left off, telling me she’s not as deeply into subspace as I’d like to see. I increase the impact of each lash, but she barely flinches.

  “Fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three.” Her voice is breathy, but she keeps pace. I test her with a particularly hard stroke, which makes her hiss and arch her back.

  Alarm jumps into Bob’s gaze as he frowns at me. You’re hurting her.

  Has she called her safe word? Trust me.

  Tate sticks her ass out and moans. Her mind screams one phrase over and over: More. Bob, I need this.

  I slip my hands between her legs again. She’s dripping, ripe and ready.

  “I want to watch you come, but not until I’m ready. Let’s see if you’re the submissive they say you are.”

  I find Tate’s engorged clit and squeeze it between my left thumb and index finger.

  The shock elicits a high-pitched moan from Tate. She writhes as if trying to control her body’s need for release.

  “Are you ready to come? Do you need to come?” I breathe the words in her ear, my mouth a few hairs from Robert’s. As my eyes meet his, I see he’s finally allowing himself to remember a similar time almost five hundred years ago. She nods frantically and moans. Almost there but not quite.

  I let my fingers race across the shaft of Tate’s clitoris, pumping it with a frenzied rhythm. I use my other hand to seat a larger plug deep in her ass. She moans even louder, pushing her ass out. She resumes counting automatically when I return to the flogging. When she hits one hundred, her voice is barely audible, her breathing harsh.

  I give Robert a nod, and we unbind Tate and move her to a harness that’s suspended from the ceiling. When we’re done, Tate sits upright in the leather sling and stirrups we’ve had made to fit her perfectly.

  If you don’t stimulate her enough, she’ll leave subspace. Do. Not. Fuck. This. Up. I plant the thought directly into Robert’s head as we slide out of our clothes.

  He gives me a curt nod, but his attention and hard cock point to Tate. He captures Tate’s mouth with his own before making his way from her neck to her breasts. Tate moans as he intersperses licks and nips with sweet nothings about her beauty. I slide up behind her and cradle her back, sliding the butt plug between her red ass cheeks. The sling makes it easy for her to lean her ass back while pushing her breasts forward to Robert’s eager, exploring mouth.

  With knowledge of her body he’s gained through centuries, Robert slides to his knees and uses his tongue to tease Tate’s clit. She opens wide and arches her back, twisting her face around to meet mine. She thrusts her tongue in my mouth, pleading, accepting my dominance. Between hot kisses, I swap butt plugs, prepping the ass I’m about to violate, and watch Robert work her into a slow frenzy of need, prodding her toward orgasm bit by bit. When he plunges three fingers up her vagina, her low growl lets us know he’s hit the sweet spot.

  I seat myself in Tate’s mind. She’s going deeper into subspace, exchanging thought for feeling. Suddenly, she stills in that characteristic way that brings memories flooding back. Robert’s jaw muscles work as he latches onto her clit. Tate holds her breath and slams back against my chest, hard nipples aching for attention.

  I suck one delicious berry into my mouth while pinching the other. Her muscles tighten even more, then break free in a torrent as the dam holding Tate’s orgasm breaks. The pulse of her release rips right through me, contractions so strong, the butt plug falls to the floor.

  Now! Tate silently chants the word as aftershocks of her orgasm roll through her.

  Tate releases a guttural groan as Robert grabs her hips and slides his stiff cock through the wetness flowing down her thighs. He buries himself balls deep. I take that as my cue to lather up with more lube. Tate’s primed ass begs for me to enter. I slowly sink the swollen length of my cock into her virgin ass. Tate sighs and curls forward as Robert captures her mouth while keeping a steady pace. Tate moans when I’m finally seated firmly in her ass. I still, giving her time to adjust to the exquisite sting of double penetration, reveling in feeling Robert’s cock as it rests beside mine, separated only by the thin membrane of Tate’s flesh. I throw my head back, listening to every breath, every sound, including the wet, sucking noises Tate makes as she devours Robert’s tongue.

  Tate’s submission has transformed her into her primal being. The intensity of her passion is off the charts. I marvel at how freely she expresses her desire. She shivers as I draw a light line down the length of her spine. Tate digs strong fingers into Robert’s shoulders. “Harder. More,” she gasps.

  The bastard just smiles and continues with his relentless rhythm, prolonging the moment. I grip Tate’s hair and yank her head back, effectively stilling her. She twists her head, thrusting her tongue deep in my mouth. I greedily accept, shuddering in complete abandon.

  We suck and fuck until sweat drips off of us, the only sound our ragged breathing. Two orgasms rock through Tate before Robert finally allows himself to build toward his own release. As Tate clenches around us with her third orgasm, Robert lets go with a roar, and I follow shortly thereafter. We stand, holding our beloved between us as the aftershocks subside.

  Robert and I work with one mind as we release her from the sling and carry her to the bed. We clean her with warm cloths and rub her buttocks and thighs with arnica gel, murmuring our adoration with each stroke. She sighs with contentment.

  Robert captures her face and whispers, “My love.” He brushes a loving kiss across her lips.

  She reciprocates with her own declaration. “You are mine for infinity and beyond. Most!”

  “Mostest,” Robert says.

  I close my eyes, trying to shut out the intimacy from a life I didn’t share with them.

  “There is no more than most, you bugger.” She breaks into peals of laughter as they share their private joke. Tate’s warm hand tugs mine into hers. “Oh, no you don’t, Francis.” She grips my hand tightly. “I love you. I can feel it here.” She places our hands over her heart. “We love you.”

  Robert’s hand joins ours as a rush of warmth runs down my cheeks. Four hundred years I’ve waited to hear she loves me again. Tate raises our three wrists in the air, and we stare at the flowers that expressed that sentiment before we could. I swear I catch a wisp of black ether twining in hers, but it is gone just as quickly. A trick of the light.

  Tate reaches over and brushes my cheek. “My love, you’re crying.” She drops my hand and pulls me into her arms. Robert wraps his arms around all of us. That bastard always knows what we need. “Shh, there, there. It’s all right. We love you, and we’ll figure this out together.”

  “We sure will,” Robert says.

  I love you . . . both. My mind frees the words I can’t say.

  “We know,” Robert says.

  “Forever and always,” Tate says.

  The universe lets me enjoy a solitary five minutes in peace before a sharp needle of panic pierces my heart. Caleb’s roar of anguish rips through me as he kicks in the door and lies Nameless’s lifeless form at our feet . . .

  — To Be Continued in TATE’S TRIAL —

  The raw pain in Caleb’s roar works better than any cold shower. We stare in shock at Nameless’s still gray form lying across the foot of the bed. This is the story of my fucking life. Not five minutes ago, Bob, Francis, and I recognized and consummated our love, and now the universe has come crashing down on us all.

  I would really like to know just who the hell I pissed off.

  All three of us leap into action and do all the things that would make sense o
n Earth and are perfectly ridiculous up here. Bob takes his carotid pulse. I put a mirror under his nose to check for breath. Don’t ask me how I got a mirror . . . I thought the thought, and it flew into my hand. More superpowers? Fine by me.

  Francis grips his temples. Weird, but there’s no time to ask questions.

  “He’s not breathing. Bob, start CPR.”

  “He’s dead, sprite. There’s no heart to start beating.”

  I give my beloved husband, my one, who I now find out is my one of four, my best stink eye and completely ignore his play on words. He knows precisely what I mean. He needs to heal him with his ether. “Then, start EPR and pronto!”

  Excited to find out what happens to Tate and the guys next? Pre-order your copy of TATE’S TRIAL coming February 28, 2020

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  Books by Lilith Darville

  CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE

  The Masquerade Series

  CARNAL BEGINNINGS

  No strings . . . Only pleasure and possibilities . . .

  CARNAL CONFLICT

  A submissive emerges and submits to her hidden desires!

  CARNAL CONTROL

  Connor McClane here to escort you on another adventure of love, lust, and intrigue.

  TICKET TO TEMPTATION

  She’s unfulfilled. His urges don’t play by the book.

  Can a mysterious manor help them break free from the ties that bind?

  DARK ROMANCE

  RAGE

  A thirst for vengeance that desire cannot quench . . .

  I took an oath to save lives, but now there’s one I’m hell bent on shattering.

  I’m on a quest for revenge. I’ve traded in my surgeon’s scalpel for a switchblade.

  When they took her,

  Raped her,

  Murdered her,

  They destroyed me.

  And now my rage is real, raw, and relentless.

  . . . But when I find Rayne, another captive, my protective instincts and desire catapult into overdrive.

  Now, it’s more than revenge. I want more. I won't stop until I have it. Can’t stop until I have her.

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