Love Slave for Two Collection [Box Set 7] (Love Slave for Two .5-4)

by Tymber Dalton

  He froze, closed his eyes and sobbed, the sound breaking her heart. She slowly rolled to her side, scooted to the back of the couch, and patted the cushion next to her. He carefully curled up with her and rested his head on her chest while she held him. He cried himself to sleep in her arms as she whispered to him, trying to soothe his long-wounded soul.

  * * * *

  When Nevvie awoke at dawn the next morning Tyler wasn’t there, but the cushions next to her were warm. He hadn’t left too long before. She carefully pushed into a sitting position.

  It hurt, enough to make her jaw clench from the effort. Thomas had been right to put her on the couch.

  Frankly, she didn’t want to be in their bed if both boys weren’t with her.

  She stood on shaky legs and used the guest bathroom, then walked to their bedroom. The bed was empty and disheveled. She touched her hand to where Tyler would sleep. Cold.

  She heard the shower start and gave Tyler a moment to get under the spray, knowing he’d be standing there thinking, trying to wake up, running through his freakishly endless mental to-do list before soaping up.

  She slowly stripped and left her clothes where they fell. Tyler would gladly take care of them. She silently opened the bathroom door and crossed the cool tile floor. Sensing her presence, he turned when she stepped into the shower.

  Eyes red and puffy, he looked like hell.

  Tyler’s gaze ran over her body, finally seeing what Alex’s knife did to her. Thomas helped her bathe in the hospital. Tyler hadn’t seen the full extent of the damage. He hesitantly put his arms around her, careful to place his hands where he wouldn’t hurt her, cradling her as he cried.

  “I’m sorry, Nevvie. I’m so sorry.”

  “Shh. It’s okay.”

  “Oh God, Nevvie, I love you much it hurts, sweetheart.”

  She kissed his chest and carefully wiggled against him, trapping his cock between her thighs and shifting slightly in the familiar way she knew would arouse him.

  It did, but he cried. “I don’t want to hurt you, we can’t—”

  She put finger on his lips. “Do you trust me?”

  He vigorously nodded.

  “Do you still want me?”

  He’d give himself whiplash if he kept that up. But she felt a stirring inside her, knowing it was the control she held over his soul and body, knowing despite his despair she still had the power to arouse him.

  Nevvie wrapped her fingers around his member. She knew there was no way the boys had made love with each other or taken care of themselves while she was gone. She backed up until she felt the cool tile against her flesh, leading him by his shaft. She spread her legs a little. It wouldn’t be perfect; he’d have to compensate.

  “Tyler,” she whispered, “get on your knees, baby.”

  He dove to the shower floor, gently licking and kissing her damp folds while she braced her hands on his shoulders. He nibbled and sucked her clit, stroking her with his tongue and fingers, moaning with her when she dug her fingers into him as she came.

  She patted the top of his head, and he climbed to his feet. She caught his cock and guided him to her entrance, leaning against him for support. “Now,” she whispered, “show me how much you love me, baby.”

  He carefully shifted his weight, bent his knees to accommodate their difference in height and her reduced mobility, and slowly seated his shaft inside her still-quivering sex.

  She put her arms around him with a sigh of pleasure. She still hurt, but the physical and emotional sensations were well worth the discomfort. “That’s what you did to me,” she whispered. “That’s what you always do to me, baby. Because I love you.”

  He took several slow, careful strokes, afraid of hurting her but now a prisoner to the passion building within him.

  “Will you promise to never leave me?” she softly asked.

  “I’ll never leave you, Nevvie. I promise.”

  “Will you do anything I ask, Tyler?”

  “Yes!”

  She used one hand to hold his chin steady so her eyes bored into his, inches from him. “Do you promise?”

  He nodded.

  She dropped her voice even further, used the sultry slave voice. “I want you to come for me, Tyler. Show your little slave you still love and want her.”

  His eyes widened. He took two strong strokes and she felt his hot liquid shoot deep inside her. He dropped his head to her shoulder and moaned as she caressed his back, then he braced his hands against the wall to maintain his balance as his knees weakened.

  * * * *

  He bathed her, washing her hair, shaving her legs, making her lean on him for support. They didn’t talk. When they finished he carefully patted her dry, kissing her body, constantly murmuring, “I love you,” against her flesh.

  He led her to their bedroom and got her some clothes, one of Thomas’ loose T-shirts and a pair of his own baggy silk boxers. He helped her dress, then she held his arm as he walked her back to the couch.

  “I’ll get your morning meds ready.”

  “Don’t bother,” Thomas said, scowling as he walked into the kitchen, his hair disheveled from sleep. “I’ll take care of her. We don’t need your help.”

  Before she could stop him, Tyler’s gaze dropped to the floor. He retreated to their bedroom and quietly closed the door behind him.

  Thomas waited until Tyler had departed. “Good morning, sugar.” He knelt beside her, kissed her, and tucked a damp hair behind her ear. “How did you sleep?”

  She fixed him with her green eyes. “You need to quit hating him.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “You do, because I don’t hate him. It’s hard to have the two men I love at each other’s throats.”

  “How can you love him? This is all his fau—”

  She put a finger on his lips, stilling him. “Stop.” She left her finger there, waiting for his sweet brown eyes to settle on hers.

  “Do you trust me?”

  He nodded. She would have to heal them individually before they could heal together.

  She cradled his head in her hands and kissed him. At first he tried to pull away, afraid of hurting her. Then he responded, exploring her mouth, his tongue gently caressing hers. That’s when she sat back with his face still trapped between her palms.

  “Will you do anything for your little slave, Master?”

  His eyes widened, but he nodded.

  “Promise?”

  He nodded.

  “Will you let me suck your cock?”

  He started to protest. She used her thumbs to gently silence him and tried again.

  “Your slave wants to suck your cock. Are you going to deny her fondest wish?”

  He stood. She carefully scooted to the edge of the couch and pulled him to her, between her legs.

  She pushed his hands away from his waistband when he tried to pull his shorts down. “Let me do this.”

  She laid her face against his hips, closing her eyes at the feel of his fingers tangling in her still-damp hair. She nuzzled his growing bulge, breathing in his familiar scent. She ran her teeth over him through the fabric, enjoying the sound of his low moan, feeling the deep stirrings within her again. She waited until he was hard and throbbing before freeing his thick shaft, running her fingers up and down his smooth flesh, reaching between his legs to gently massage his balls.

  “Oh, Nevvie, that’s wonderful.”

  “I haven’t started yet.” She licked the head, swirling her tongue around him the way he loved, flicking the tip for several long, slow minutes before wrapping her lips around it and taking him in. She stopped when just the head was inside her mouth, massaging him with her tongue, thoroughly exploring the silky smooth surface. His hips started a slow, sultry thrusting, and his fingers tightened in her hair, then relaxed as if he realized what he was doing, afraid of hurting her.

  With steady, pulsating sucks she worked her way down his shaft, tasting him, feeling him throb against her tongue. She used one
hand to massage his balls and the other to stroke him. It didn’t take long. When she felt him start to come she grabbed his hips and held him tight, swallowing every hot drop and taking him deep into her throat.

  Thomas grabbed the back of the couch, trying not to fall on her as she refused to let go, suckling him until he grew soft in her mouth. Only then did she release him and crook her finger at him to lean in close.

  She grabbed his head, kissing him, jamming her tongue deep in his mouth, drawing more moans from him. When she released him she whispered in his ear, “I love you, Thomas. And I love him. I will not choose. I want you to remember how much you love him. It would break my heart to lose either of you. I need both of you.”

  He dropped to his knees, crying, his head in her lap. She stroked his hair, rubbing his shoulders. Now she had an idea how to reconnect them, to pull Tyler from his shame and Thomas from his anger. She’d play dirty if she had to.

  Tyler wasn’t the only one who could plan.

  When Thomas recovered he sat up and tenderly kissed her. “I’ll get your medicine. What do you want for breakfast?”

  She smiled. “I just had it.”

  He looked blank for a moment before laughing. It was the best sound she’d heard in weeks. He caressed her cheek and touched his forehead to hers. “It’s going to take me a while to get to that place, if ever. I won’t lie to you, Nevvie. Because of what he did—”

  “He didn’t stab me. You said you trust me. Do you trust me to make up my mind about this?”

  He nodded and kissed the top of her head. “Scrambled eggs?”

  “Okay.”

  Her pussy tingled again even though pain now climbed through her body, demanding attention and medicine, fighting for control even while she thought about how Thomas sounded when he came for her, and how Tyler moaned against her neck.

  Thomas brought her medicine and a glass of water. When he turned she caught his hand and held it. He helped her lay on the couch and knelt beside her.

  “Do you hurt, sugar?”

  Nevvie smiled. She drew him to her, kissed him, then placed his hand between her legs. She whispered in his ear, “Feel what you’ve done to your little slave, Master.”

  He kissed her again as his fingers slipped inside her waistband and found her wet. He gently inserted two fingers, stroking her clit with his thumb. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his ear.

  “Please make me come, Master,” she breathed, and in a few minutes, he did.

  Nevvie dozed, content, awakened by the smell of eggs and coffee. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings and made an effort not to grimace at how sweet he’d fixed her coffee. Tyler prepared it perfectly for her—the right amount of sugar, just enough to barely sweeten it and take the bitterness away, no milk. Thomas had dumped several heaping spoonfuls into the mug.

  Tyler always made it right, closely studying her every move the first few weeks she worked for them, then mimicking exactly how she fixed it. She remembered his proud smile the first time he handed her an already-prepared mug and expectantly watched her face while she sipped and nodded her approval.

  He’d beamed.

  Now she understood why it seemed so important to him—because it was.

  God, how could it have taken her so long to see that about her sweet Tyler? That his entire existence revolved around making them happy?

  The bedroom door opened. Fully dressed, Tyler walked into the kitchen. He glanced at her, avoiding Thomas’ glare. She smiled and he finally returned it.

  Tyler watched as she choked down another sip of coffee. He reached for a mug, hesitated, and grabbed one out of the cabinet that was a duplicate to the one she held.

  She ate. The eggs were good. Thomas wasn’t a bad cook. Plain, basic, hearty Southern food. He just…wasn’t Tyler. Thomas’ strengths lay in his sturdy, solid nature, his willingness to die to protect those he loved, his attention to the big picture and reliability to get the job done, one way or another. Tyler was the detail man.

  When Tyler walked into the living room, Thomas took his plate to the kitchen and left them alone. She thought it was odd the way Tyler turned his back to the kitchen before leaning over and setting his coffee mug next to hers. Then he kissed her and picked up his mug, returning to the kitchen. When she took her next sip of coffee, hoping she could choke it down, it was perfect.

  Startled, she looked at Tyler and watched as he waited until Thomas had retreated down the hall to dump the mug, rinse it, and pour himself a cup of black coffee.

  She mouthed a silent thank you. He shrugged and started to make his breakfast.

  That was Tyler: modest, self-effacing, always paying attention. A lesser man would have made a big deal, or at least a snide remark, about the coffee being totally wrong to avenge his bruised ego.

  She had to remind Thomas why he fell in love with Tyler if she was going to bring them together again.

  Nevvie planned.

  * * * *

  Both men stayed home, carefully avoiding the other. She couldn’t keep them in the same room for more than a few minutes at a time. Thomas let Tyler make lunch. After they finished eating, he wordlessly helped clean up the kitchen. Ah good. Finally, a thaw.

  She needed to act before her afternoon pain pill knocked her out. It had to be today. The tension in the air suffocated her. She wanted to curl up with her boys—both of them.

  When they finished cleaning the kitchen she called them into the living room to stand before her. She’d retrieved her phone from the office on her last potty trip. Tyler’s BlackBerry was clipped to his slacks.

  She held out her hand. “Tyler, give me your phone.”

  “What?”

  She snapped her fingers. “Give it.” Puzzled but compliant, he unclipped the holster and handed it to her.

  Thomas watched, curious.

  She studied her boys for a long moment then used the remote to mute the TV. She deliberately kept her voice soft.

  “I want you to stay silent and listen. Simply nod or shake your heads unless I ask you a question requiring an answer, understand?”

  The men glanced at each other, but nodded.

  “Good. I love you. Both of you, got that? Not one or the other. We were perfectly happy a little over two weeks ago, and I want that happiness back. Do you still love me?”

  They immediately nodded.

  “Do you still love each other?”

  The men nodded—Tyler first, without hesitation.

  “Good.” She let the silence settle for a moment, allowing them to ponder that. “Am I still your little slave?”

  They nodded.

  “Are you still both my masters?”

  Nods.

  “This morning, you have each promised me you’d do whatever I asked. Did you mean it?”

  Another glance at each other, but they nodded.

  “Strip.”

  Thomas started to say something and she pointed at him. “Did I say you could speak? That was an order, not a question.”

  His mouth snapped shut, and he shook his head.

  The men looked at her, then each other, and started undressing.

  She smiled, nodding. “Very good,” she purred. “That pleases me.”

  When they stood naked before her, she let them stand there for a few long minutes before speaking. “Thomas, why did you fall in love with Tyler?”

  “What?”

  “Did you not hear the question, or did you not understand it?”

  He frowned, studying her. She saw the wheels turning in his head, trying to figure out what she was up to. She struggled to keep her gaze off Tyler. She knew Tyler understood, and Nevvie didn’t want Thomas to think Tyler was in on this, tag-teaming him and backing him into a corner where his ego would force him to resist her efforts.

  Thomas finally answered. “I fell in love with him for a lot of reasons.”

  “Did you guys have sex on the first date?” She already knew this but had to make him remember.<
br />
  He looked at the floor. “No. We went out for coffee.” She watched him steal a glance at Tyler, who stood with his arms crossed while studying the ceiling fan.

  “What happened on your date?”

  “We talked for about four hours.”

  “Tell me about your next date. What did you do?” Again she knew this, but in light of her recent insights she now understood why Tyler did what he did.

  “He called me the next day and asked if I wanted to go with him to a Lightning game. The Thrashers were in town. I said sure.”

  “And?”

  Thomas didn’t speak at first. Then, with a soft voice full of memories, “He got us box seats, center ice. Expensive seats.”

  “Was it a good game?”

  He shrugged. “I was rooting for the Thrashers, but it didn’t matter that the Bolts won. I normally rooted for them.”

  “How did Tyler like it?”

  A hint of a smile. “It was his first hockey game ever.” Thomas shook his head. “He thought an icing call was when the players cut hard and sprayed snow.” She smiled, as did Tyler. Thomas finally looked at his lover. “He didn’t know what checking meant. I had to explain it all to him, why they’d stop playing when the light at the officials’ bench went on, what a power play was, everything. It was cute.”

  “If he’d never been to a hockey game before, why did he take you?”

  Thomas remained quiet for a long moment. “Because I’d mentioned it when we had coffee. We were discussing sports and I said I liked hockey.”

  “Tell me about your next date.”

  “He cooked me dinner.”

  “What’d he make?”

  “Pork chops and sweet potato soufflé.”

  “Interesting choice. Most people would try to impress with steak or something fancy.”

  Thomas looked at the ceiling. She knew she’d made progress because his eyes moistened. “All right. He could have written my biography by our third date, and we went out two weeks before I even asked him about his family. I was an insensitive asshole. Point made.”

  “No, point not made,” she insisted. “Turn and face each other.”