Taming Tyler

Chapter Eighteen

Callum

I can’t remember what we had for dinner, only that I had to remind Ty several times to stop playing with his food. Every time he just smiled at me teasingly, squirming on the kitchen chair, twirling spaghetti—shit, it was spaghetti—around on his plate. ‘ I’m not hungry, Cal-Bear,’ he protested. ‘I don’t like spaghetti,’ he groaned. ‘I like chorizo,’ he near-panted. ‘The big ones.’ He batted his eyelashes.

‘Behave, kid,’ Mitch croaked, a darkness in his eyes I’d never seen before.

‘Ugh! Not a kid, remember?’ Ty threw his fork onto his plate with a clang, squirming on his chair again, his shorts riding higher on his tattooed thighs. ‘How are we ever gonna get to the fucking part when you keep calling me kid, Mitchy?’ My husband blushed, doubt creeping across his face. The same doubt lingering in his blue eyes right now as I slide Ty’s shorts down over his trembling ass.

“Cal?” he whispers, a strained edge to his voice. I lean in over Ty, who’s lying on his stomach on the bed between us, and kiss him slowly, carefully. I understand and acknowledge Mitch’s predicament. The doubt and the guilt that rush through him right now. I can taste it on his lips. Ty used to call him Dad, and now he calls him Daddy, and we’re getting ready to fuck him. It is strange. It is. But it’s not wrong. How can it ever be wrong when all three of us want this?

Ty wiggles his butt on the bed beneath us like he’s reading my mind, sighing impatiently.

“What the fuck is the holdup, Daddies?!” he whines, his ass cheeks jiggling invitingly. “Let’s get this show on the road!” Mitch shakes his head, laughing quietly against my lips.

“Do you still doubt that he wants this? That he wants us ?” I speak against his bearded chin. “Because this is your call, babe. I ain’t doing anything without you.”

“I want to.” The words come out clipped. “I want him,” Mitch says.

“Hallelujah!” Ty yells. “Thank the fucking Lord. Now let’s fuck!” We both laugh, relief clear in my husband’s eyes, before want takes over and the blue turns darker.

“Oh, you’ll get more than you’ve bargained for, you brat,” I spit, smacking my right hand against Ty’s right butt cheek, then the left. His plump flesh vibrates beneath my palm as he squeals, lifting his ass, chasing my hand. Pink, then crimson, blooms across his skin, spreading like watercolor across it. Whimpering, he reaches back his hands, searching blindly for Mitch and me, his face buried in the pillow.

“Is that all you’ve got, Cal-Bear?” His voice comes out muffled against the pillow. “More,” he urges, humping the sheets. That’s when I see it. The reason why the little beast was spinning around on the kitchen chair like a bull rider. He fucking plugged himself. Silver peeks from between his ass cheeks with every hump. Dayum.

“Shit,” Mitch blurts, his eyes glued to Ty’s ass, his fingers trailing carefully across the red and pink canvas on his flawless skin. Then he digs in his blunt fingers, grabbing a good fistful of flesh. Yelling, Ty throws his head back, his eyes closed, mouth open, his white teeth glistening with saliva. Biting into his bottom lip, he moans loudly, moving pliantly beneath us.

“Yes, please,” he says gutturally. “More.” He opens his eyes, the cinnamon on fire as his gaze lands on Mitch. “Please, Daddy. Please,” he begs. “I need you, Mitch.” And my husband’s face melts, a tenderness causing his features to relax and give in. Give in to this thing that can’t be explained but is driving us to cross a line that can’t be uncrossed. Mitch licks his bottom lip, stroking the tips of his fingers along Ty’s butt cheek, toward his crease, where it finally lands on the base of the plug. Placing his thumb on top of it, he taps it once, twice, three times, Ty sucking in a breath with each tap, then exhaling on a moan.

“Anything you want, baby boy,” Mitch drawls. “Anything you want.” Then he grabs the base of the plug and slowly, teasingly, he pulls it out slightly before pushing it back in. Ty hisses, his eyes still glued to Mitch’s face, his hips thrusting into the sheets beneath him. While my husband fucks Ty with the plug, I begin stripping down, nearly tearing my T-shirt in half as I pull it off. Ty’s eyelashes flutter as his gaze drifts from Mitch to me, then back again. His lips are glistening, his cheeks flushed. He’s beautiful. So, so beautiful. Blindly, I undo my jeans and pull them off quickly, taking my boxer briefs off along with them and discarding them on the floor behind me.

Reaching out my left hand, I place it on top of Mitch’s, and together, slowly and gently, we pull the silver plug from Ty’s hole. He cries out, his hole clenching and unclenching hungrily around nothing, the frail muscles of his shoulders and back rippling with restraint.

“Please,” he gasps in small pants. “Please.” Without a word, Mitch leans in over Ty and reaches for the lube and condoms on our nightstand. My heart stops, my entire world going still, as I watch my husband’s shaking fingers close around them. Then, with a silent plea in his eyes, he hands me the lube and the condom. Searching his eyes, I close my fingers around the small bottle and the wrapper.

“You sure?” I whisper.

“I need you to go first, Cal,” he says, his voice deep and dark. I nod quietly, accepting this gift that he’s handing me. Ty. His Ty. Now ours. The enormity of this moment goes straight to my cock as it throbs with want, jutting out in front of me.

“Ugh!” Ty groans, pounding his fist into the mattress. “If you guys are done with your little hubby moment, will someone—just anyone—please fuck me or I’m gonna throw a fucking tantrum!” His eyes shoot daggers at us before he smirks devilishly. “Oh wait,” he says all innocently, tapping his chin. “Is this like a prep-at-home-eat-out kinda thing?” He has barely spoken the thing before a growl leaves my throat. Grabbing Ty by his hips and pulling him up on his knees, my palm lands on his left butt cheek.

“You.” Smack. “Eat.” Smack . “At.” Smack. “Home.” Smack. The sound of my huge palm meeting—alternating—between Ty’s butt cheeks fills the room, followed by a string of whimpers. Then Ty laughs triumphantly. Like really, truly laughs, and at that moment, I think I fall in love with him. He’s amazing. It’s like he knows exactly what we need. What it takes to pull us out of the seriousness and into a lighter mood. Unwrapping the condom, I frantically suit up, then uncap the lube and squish an excessive amount into my palm. Lathering my cock, it feels like I’ve got a sunburn—a cockburn . It’s so sensitive and I have to clench my ass to not come on the spot. My balls hang heavily between my thighs, loaded with pent-up arousal that has been building over the last couple of days. This is going to be fast and furious. I can feel it. The way the bottom of my spine burns. The way the blood pounds in my cockhead.

I lock eyes with my husband as I move Ty to his side, moving up behind him, my hips flush against his ass. Moving in front of him, Mitch hesitates for a moment, before Ty grabs his face and smothers his lips against Mitch’s. Pulling his ass cheeks apart, I find Ty’s pink pucker winking at me, the stretched skin glistening with lube, his hole slightly agape from the plug. Shit. Every thought leaves my mind as I line my cock up against his entrance. Then, gritting my teeth, praying to anything that might exist that I don’t blow right here and now, I push in. And holy fucking fudge pie, Ty sucks me right in, his hole tight as a fist around my length.

Mitch swallows Ty’s moans, his large hands stilling his slim hips as I fuck into him in slow, shallow thrusts. He’s so hot and smooth and inviting. Pulling his mouth from Mitch’s, Ty whines, pushing his ass backward, meeting each of my thrusts eagerly. Hungrily.

“Fuck, yes!” he shouts. “That’s what I’m fucking talking about. Fuck me, Daddy!” His shrill voice rings through the bedroom, bouncing off the walls, intermingling with the loud smack, smack, smack as my hips meet his butt. Flesh against flesh. Skin against skin. As I increase my pace, I watch Mitch sliding down Ty’s body, his tongue trailing along his chest, circling his nipples that are slightly darker than his olive skin. Alternating between his nipples, Mitch lathers them with his saliva until they are a pretty glistening pink. Ty’s writhing, tossing his head from side to side, low animal-like moans spilling from his lips. Moving lower, sucking hickeys into the frail skin on Ty’s ribs and obliques, Mitch eventually reaches Ty’s belly button. As Mitch blows at it softly, Ty shivers, his hole clenching around me, and I’m seeing fucking stars. Then, when Mitch’s teeth close around the small belly button piercing, tucking at it teasingly, Ty goes completely mental.

“Fuuuck!” he shouts, his fingers grabbing Mitch’s hair, his hole squeezing my dick impossibly tight. “Mitch,” he pants. “Mitch, Mitch, Mitch.” Then he looks over his shoulder, his eyes swimming in front of me. “Cal,” he breathes, tears clinging to his eyelashes. “Kiss me, Cal.” And I do. I kiss him like it’s the last kiss I’ll ever get from him. Like he’s the source of the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins. Moaning against my lips, he sucks my tongue into the moist softness of his mouth and I pound into him from behind, my mind going to that place where there’s only pleasure.

“Oh shit,” Ty blurts against my lips. “Oh shit, Daddy.” Then his hips surge forward. I watch over his shoulder as my husband swallows Ty’s dick, his face buried in the dark nest of hair surrounding it. “Yes, yes, yes,” Ty chants as I increase the pace of my thrusts, the image of my husband going down on Ty while I’m buried deep inside him, the hottest fucking thing ever. We fit. We fit so perfectly together. Somehow, in a strange yet wonderful world that is only ours, we fit.

The moment Ty comes will stay with me forever. That’s a fact. The moment he spills into my husband’s mouth with an outdrawn moan will be imprinted on my soul until I draw my last breath. The peaceful, sated expression on his face while my husband swallowed his cum with an unparalleled ferocity. Ty’s slight twitching movements as he tightened around me and I came inside him. Mitch’s frantic movements as his hand flew to his pants and pulled out his throbbing cock. The loud slap-slap- slap of his cock fucking his own fist until he, too, came with a growl, his cum painting Ty’s pink pecs in milky white. That night will stay with me forever. The night two became three and my heart expanded beyond anything I ever thought possible. The night I realized love knows no boundaries if you just open your heart and allow it to grow. To breathe. To live.