We return to visit Tilly, Landry, Cris, and Bob. When last we left them, things were a bit up in the air. After decades of loving Tilly, only to be crushed by Cris' return with his Master, Landry, Bob thought he'd lost her forever. But life has a strange way of sometimes forging steel out of the fires of adversity. Just when Bob thought all hope was gone, Landry, Tilly's husband and Dom, slowly pulls Bob into their family. But how will this affect the triad? As time goes on, Bob seems to have finally found his place. Things start settling in. But Tilly puts her foot down. She wants to take things slowly, VERY slowly. Cris has his own reasons for caution. While Bob has absolutely no problem with Tilly's gradual pace, it's Landry, ever the sneaky sadist, who has plans of his own. What does the crafty sadist have in mind? With their insanely busy careers split between coasts and continents, a young toddler to raise, the craziness following wherever they go, it seems life's always going to get in the way. But Landry steps in and does what he does best...be himself! As Landry plans his manipulations, Tilly's not unaware of the his agenda. While the game is deadly serious, she enjoys matching wits with him just as much as he does with her. As Tilly comes to realize she may just be wrong, and Landry feels sure of victory, it's Cris and Bob who have epiphanies that just may ultimately decide the quad's fate. But can a poly quad truly find happiness? Is it possible Tilly's been right all along? Will Landry's plots and schemes ultimately work? Or will they backfire completely and destroy what the group already has? And what of Cris and Bob? Can two former enemies form a loving and unbreakable bond? The happiness of all four, not to mention their young daughter, hangs in the balance. Ultimately, it will take trust of monumental proportions and a depth of love and commitment that may well be impossible to achieve. The question is, can these four do what it takes to build the life they need?
Tymber Dalton's Suncoast Society books are the very best, most realistic BDSM books I've ever read. She's weaves elements of BDSM with day-to-day details of her characters' lives into emotionally-gripping stories that reach deep into the reader's psyche and soul. She has an innate understanding of human nature. A vibrant part of a real-life BDSM community, she brings her own life experience to every book she writes. I love Tilly, Landry, Cris, and Bob. This story had me laughing, hopeful, joyful, crying, anxious, and afraid for every one of these characters. Is the BDSM hot? Absolutely! But my love for this book goes far beyond just the BDSM. These people are real, compelling in a way that's extremely rare. I ALWAYS have a box of tissues handy when reading any Tymber Dalton book. The emotions are rich, raw, and unfailingly honest and real. This story is unique in every way. I give Never Too Late For Love 5 stars. If I could give it more, I would. Thank you, Tymber Dalton, for giving us the richly-detailed story of these beloved characters. This book is exceptional! You're truly one of the most impressive authors I've ever read!
One final note. Please be an informed reader! This is an ADULT book. It contains explicit language and BDSM sexual scenes. If you don't enjoy this genre, think hard before buying any book you know you won't enjoy. There are book synopses and reviews available on Goodreads and all booksellers' websites. Use these resources! DON'T LEAVE A NEGATIVE REVIEW WHEN YOU KNOW YOU WON'T ENJOY THE BOOK. It's not fair to the author. She works extremely hard to provide a quality work product. If you know you'll object to the book's subject matter before you buy it, you're doing yourself and the author an extreme disservice.
Thanks for reading my review and happy reading!
More From Suncoast Society
STORY EXCERPT
Bob sat on the large porch swing on the lanai and stared at the e-mail on his phone. He couldn’t help but smile as he read and reread the invite Tony had sent out an hour earlier.
The beginning portion of it is what held his interest.
Landry, Tilly, Cris, and Bob would like to invite you and your significant and non-significant others to their home…
His own mental emphasis on that word.
Their.
Sometimes, Bob still had difficulty believing he wasn’t stuck in a dream, until one of the others walked through a room and he realized no, this was his life.
What a damned good one it was, too.
He was currently watching Cris and KC playing in the pool. Bob, Tilly, and KC had returned from his first trip to London yesterday.
Landry currently had Tilly…distracted in the bedroom.
Bob reached up and rubbed the top of his shoulder, where Cris had bit him that morning before allowing him out of bed.
Even in this way the three were different, in how they’d marked their ownership of him. Cris found ways small and quiet, and yet loud and clear in their meaning, to mark Bob. Usually by picking a spot Cris had discovered made Bob react by shivering in good ways and usually hardening his cock—when it wasn’t already exhausted—to bite and suck. The tops of his shoulders, the back of his neck.
Along his inner thighs.
Usually somewhere shorts or a shirt could easily hide the mark, because Cris liked to leave ones that would last for days and they didn’t want to have to explain them to KC if she saw them. Sometimes, that meant Bob wearing a swim shirt when he went in the pool.
If Bob was home, Cris was…bitey.
Landry was bitey, too, but not in the same way. He didn’t bite to mark as strongly as Cris did, usually. Landry’s marks were the collars Bob willingly wore, which one depended on the circumstances, and the marks Landry’s implements left on his ass.
Tilly’s marks were where no one could see them, on his heart and soul, and far more permanent. All she had to do was look at him with her hazel eyes, or call him sweetie, and he was hers.
Always and forever.
Today, Bob would be in the pool with Cris and KC, except the sadist had no sooner closed the bedroom door last night when he’d pinned Bob down on the bed and locked his cock and balls in a chastity cage. No way even his baggy swim suit would hide that.
Then Landry and Cris had taken turns fucking his mouth as a welcome home celebration, and Landry had made him sleep with a large butt plug in place while the sadist spooned around him.
Bob loved it.
He knew once the sadist deigned to give him relief, likely that evening, it would be well worth the wait.
That, and Tilly had made him come three times in the twenty-four hours before they’d left London, knowing damn well the sadist would deny and torment him upon their return.
Bob knew part of Landry’s “funishment” for him was because Bob hadn’t yet coaxed Tilly into dropping her final restriction on no sexual intercourse between them and Bob until their year anniversary of the latest form of their dynamic.
That was a private aside the sadist had revealed to him the night before Bob had left with Tilly and KC for their trip to London, his first to the city.
He was delightfully caught between Tilly’s rock-solidish rule, and a very hard sadist.
The -ish coming from seeing firsthand how the sadist had already skillfully steered Tilly toward the outcome he wanted.
As Tilly herself had stated many times, the sadist was an evil, sneaky, tricky damn fuck.
But the three of them loved him in spite of that.
Or was it because of it?
Damn it’s good to be home.
ADULT EXCERPT
Bob scrambled to follow Landry inside. The sadist was almost all the way down the hallway and had reached the door of the master bedroom by the time Bob caught up with him. Landry locked them in the bedroom. He grabbed Bob, winding his fingers through Bob’s hair as he kissed him, crushing his lips over Bob’s. A low growl rolled from the sadist, stubble scratchy against Bob’s face while the sadist orally ravaged and reclaimed his newest pet, bending him backward as he kissed him, forcing Bob to dip at the knees to keep his balance.
“Bathroom,” Landry ordered. “Naked. Now.”
Bob pulled off his shirt as he jumped to follow orders. He was naked seconds later when Landry snapped his fingers and pointed at the counter. “Up.”
Bob sat on the counter and propped his heels on the edge, thighs spread wide and his hands gripping his legs under his knees. Not the first time the sadist had put him in this position. Landry had a tube of lube in his hand. He pulled on a nitrile glove and coated his first two fingers of his right hand with lube before leaning in and immediately probing Bob’s ass. Inside the chastity cage, Bob’s cock protested the confinement, pressing almost painfully against the restraint, knowing what was coming.
Bob. Bob would be coming.
“You have one minute, boy,” Landry said before leaning in and kissing him.
Landry’s fingers sank deep inside Bob’s ass, probing, curling and hooking against Bob’s sweet spot, where they started stroking and shooting Bob straight toward the goal.
Bob wished it was Landry’s cock fucking him. Now that he knew that certainty was in his future, he dreamed of the day it was Landry and Cris’ real cocks fucking him, not strap-ons.
The other side of that being it meant he’d finally be able to fuck Tilly, too.
Everyone a winner.
He wouldn’t deny he was looking forward to being able to fuck Cris and Landry, too. They’d told him they were definitely looking forward to that permutation.
Landry had already warned Bob that being DP’ed by Cris and Landry was on the list of activities to check off as well.
Over the months since Bob had started playing regularly with Landry, after being collared to him as his submissive, Landry had immediately started training Bob, reprogramming his brain with sexy stimuli. Bob had willingly—eagerly—given full control of his sexual limits to Landry.
Was he now gay? Still straight? Bi? Pan?
Bob no longer knew and didn’t care what label he was “supposed” to have..
He belonged to the triad, and was happy to be there.
He was theirs.
That was the only label he needed.
Pressure built in his balls, and in his cock, as Landry’s tongue fucked his mouth and his fingers probed Bob’s ass.
Without breaking their kiss, Landry reached down with his other hand and grabbed Bob’s sac, where it protruded from the chastity cage.
That was enough to finally get Bob over the edge. His body tensed when the climax swept through him, his cock painfully squeezed inside the chastity cage as Landry’s devilish fingers rubbed at his prostate, milking him.
These kinds of orgasms weren’t as satisfying as the regular kind, but it was better than nothing.
And it mean at least a little respite, his cock already starting to soften in the cage.
Landry lifted his head and smiled down at him. “With seconds to spare. Excellent, boy.”
“Thank you, Master.”
“Do you understand why I’m torturing you like this?”
“Because you’re trying to encourage me to speed up Tilly’s timeline, Master. You won’t make me wear the cage.”
The sadist’s smile widened. “You are a brilliant boy. That’s one of the reasons I love you so much.”
It didn’t matter what Landry did to him, within their hard limits. All Landry had to do was say those three words to Bob, and it melted any irritation he might have at the sadist.
Or good boy.
Either way, he loved belonging to the sadist.
“Do you know how much I’m simply dying to fuck this sweet ass of yours and be the first real cock you’ve ever taken in it?”
“Yes, Master, you’ve made that clear.”
Oh, shit. Landry started wiggling his fingers inside Bob, slowly started fucking his ass with them, lightly tugging on Bob’s sac as he did. The sadist alternated between finger-fucking him and lightly milking his prostate, building him up a second time—
And then he pulled his hand out, leaving Bob gasping, needy, his cock confused and leaning toward wanting more, semi-hard and once more pressing against the confines of the chastity cage.
But Landry replaced his fingers with a different butt plug—
Oh, fuck.
The vibrating one. It had a remote control, too.
Landry stripped off the glove and washed his hands. “Clean up, boy, and make us lunch, please.” He picked up the remote, smiled, and turned the butt plug on to what Bob knew was the lowest setting.
If he came without permission, even like this, he’d be punished.
Shaky and trying to adjust to the renewed discomfort—and the pleasure of the butt plug doing things to him—Bob put his feet down and held onto the counter for a moment until he was sure he wouldn’t fall over. “Yes, Master.”
Landry smacked him on the ass, hard. “Welcome home, boy. I missed you.”
“Thank you, Master. I missed you, too.”
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