Jillian looked up once again and blinked through her tears. She made an assenting sound. Her hands weren’t cuffed, and neither were her legs. None of the men restrained her with their hands any longer. But the ball gag stayed where it was, probably providing her a measure of comfort through its control of her speech.
“I can’t make you take care of yourself. I can’t make you seek help. I don’t want to cut you off from Juno and the club. Love, when you’re on an even keel, you’re a good submissive and a delight for any sadist, but your heart and your head aren’t in a healthy place right now. Please don’t seek what you need among strangers. Come home as soon as you can, and we will work something out, so that acting out to get what you need isn’t necessary.”
Samson watched her face for signs of distress or leashed anger, but she sat still, her legs sprawled out to the side and gradually moved to take on her former kneeling position.
Watching silently as she gathered herself, Hector said, “Make your apologies to Joseph and Samson’s guests. You’ve made a poor representation to Samson’s brother of what BDSM is all about.” Joseph removed the gag, and Jillian coughed and licked her lips.
“But I thought he was a Dom. He should know…” She looked at Ivan, and he shook his head.
“I’m a chef, ma’am, and I am excellent with a knife.”
His use of the proper female address seemed like a lash against her, an unpleasant one, and finally her cheeks filled with color. “I made an assumption. I’m sorry.” With the apology tendered, she added, “You’re really a chef?”
Cassie finally found her voice and said, “Yes, and get your eyes off of him. He’s mine, too.”
Jillian bit her lip as she turned to Cassie, and Samson braced for more ugliness, but Jillian said, “I apologize for speaking so rudely to you. I understand this is my last visit here, and I own that, but I’m embarrassed my behavior is a reflection on Master Hector and Juno. This isn’t their fault. I took all of this too far. I concluded my business in San Antonio today, Sir. I’ll collect my things and leave now.”
Hector seemed relieved, and it was obvious he cared about Jillian. “Get some sleep, Jillian. When you get your flight information, please text it to me and I’ll have someone at the airport here to pick you up when your flight arrives.”
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”
“We’ll talk when you get home.”
Joseph excused himself from their group and walked her out. The club gradually filled with the more typical sounds of play sessions, and Samson looked around the group at all their shocked faces and waved to a waitress, who came and took drink orders. He gently squeezed Cassie, who was trembling. “Baby? You all right?”
She turned in his embrace and put her arms around his shoulders. Against his neck, she whispered, “I’m so embarrassed. I’ve never ever lost my cool like that. I can’t stop shaking.”
He chuckled and patted her hip. “Then I guess you were overdue. You’re feeling the adrenaline overload. Try to let it roll through you without fighting it. Jillian provoked you with the intention of getting a reaction.”
“Which makes this more embarrassing because I gave in to the urge just as she intended.” She turned to face the rest of their friends. “I’m sorry for losing it.”
Bunny waved a hand dismissively and said, “Pfft!” before she remembered she was supposed to be silent. She pressed her lips together and stilled, pretending as though she hadn’t just spoken. Samson gave her credit for knowing how to dispel the tension as everyone chuckled.
Randall said, “We won’t tell on you this once, Red.” He turned and spoke softly to Mona, who hurried off after kissing him.
Bunny mouthed thank you and then winked at Samson and made a hissing sound at Cassie and kitten claws with her hands.
Cassie turned to him and placed a hand over his thigh where Jillian had nailed him with her high heel. “Are you all right? You’re going to have a terrible bruise. I can feel how hot it is, and it’s swelling.”
He leaned forward and whispered, “You keep squirming around on my cock and I’ll let you attend to another swelling that’s also getting hot.” She stilled instantly, and he thoroughly enjoyed the bright shade of rose transforming her already pink cheeks. She glanced back at him with a reproving twist to her lips, but there was a sparkle in her eyes.
Randall said, “I’ve sent Mona for an ice pack and the first-aid kit so you can doctor Cassie’s arm. She’s bleeding. Jillian was the one with the claws, but I think you’ve got the fiery tigress in your lap, my friend.”
“That pretty much says it all,” Samson said with a chuckle as he squeezed her reassuringly and then looked at his brother. “It’s usually not this exciting up in the VIP section. Now down in the dungeon…”
Ivan frowned. “This isn’t the dungeon?”
Everyone laughed, and Samson eventually explained that there was another whole floor of BDSM beneath their feet. Ivan took it all in with relative nonchalance, seeming to purposely want Samson to know he accepted this aspect of his life.
The night might not have gone as he’d expected, but it had ended up better than he’d hoped. And there was a part of him that had ignited at seeing how fiery Cassie could be where her men were concerned.
* * * *
Cassie watched Samson wince when he applied the ice pack to the knot on his leg through his leather pants. While she was grateful he’d protected her from harm, she was worried he wasn’t being honest about how much pain he was in. If he’d been wearing slacks or jeans instead of those leather pants, Jillian’s stiletto heel might’ve done much more serious damage.
Anger flared at the uproar Jillian had caused, and Cassie’s cheeks flushed once more with heat at the reminder she’d literally lost control of her anger. She knew now that Jillian had manipulated her on purpose, which didn’t make it any easier for her to face the fact she’d lost it like a common street thug. She’d also made such territorial statements about Samson and Ivan. She doubted saying such things about a Dom was permissible in Hazelle House and could only imagine what Joseph and the others thought of her.
“Your thoughts show so easily in your eyes, chiquita,” Samson said softly as he brushed antibiotic ointment over her wounds and bandaged them. She smiled at him, appreciating the encouragement.
Ivan leaned over in his chair and kissed her shoulder. “You were speaking the truth, you know?” he said, and she turned to look into his kind blue eyes. “We are yours.”
“Mmmm, all yours,” Samson echoed.
“But I thought I’d be in big trouble, like huge trouble for saying something like that, especially here, where you’re supposed to be the one in control, the one in charge.”
Samson gave her a kiss and murmured, “Silly girl. The subs may be the ones on their knees, but even if they’ve given control to their Doms, they’re still the ones with all the power.”
She leaned back against her shoulder and shook her head. “I’ll never understand this world. Not fully.”
“You understand more than you realize,” Samson said as he settled back with her in the cushy chair, forcing her to practically recline on him. “You just need time to get settled in.”
She looked across the group, observing the way Bunny leaned against Joseph’s leg, with her cheek on his knee. She caught Cassie watching her and gave her an evil grin that meant she was up to no good. Cassie’s attention was drawn by the movement of Bunny’s hands, and Cassie slowly slid her gaze down Joseph’s pant leg, hoping she wasn’t being obvious. Bunny was slowly, and with painstaking care, tying his shoe laces in knots, over and over again, so that when he wanted to remove his shoes, he would first have to untie all the knots. Cassie snorted softly, figuring it was lucky for Bunny that she hadn’t tied his shoe laces together or her clitoral torture might never end.
And Mona kneeled beside her Dom. She and Randall both wore wedding bands, so they, too, were committed to more than just a BDSM relationship. Mona looked more than co
ntent in her place kneeling on the cushion beside Randall. She certainly didn’t look like a doormat, and earlier, she’d looked thrilled to be of service to her Dom, rushing off to get the icepack and the first-aid kit.
And little Shae, still sitting silently with perfect posture, listened intently to what the others were talking about, every so often casting a glance around, watching the couples with something akin to hope in her eyes. She obviously wanted what they had. She didn’t seem to feel as though she was on the fringe or ignored and smiled and responded when Randall spoke to her and when Ivan asked her a question.
“You’re willing to be that patient?” she asked as she stroked the top of Samson’s hand where it rested on her hip. “Even if I need more time?”
“To have you here with me? Of course.”
She cast her gaze out to the crowd on the dance floor, and he turned his head to observe with her. The conversation among the group flowed around them as she said, “I can see the attraction to the dynamic. Heck, coming from my background, I can even understand it to a degree. But, Samson, there was truth in Jillian’s words. I’m soft and overweight. Would you really want to see me in a skimpy outfit like Bunny’s or Mona’s? I’d look ridi—“
He put a finger to her lips and said, “Bunny gets punished when she voices body-shaming thoughts, just so you know. I agree with Joseph on that rule, so watch what you say about this gorgeous body of yours.” She sensed a shift in Ivan’s attention toward their conversation as he turned toward them.
“From the waist up, I could handle the outfit she has on, I think, but from the waist down? Let’s not be ridiculous.”
“That’s one,” he said quietly, a smile drawing across his lips.
“One what?”
“One pop on your gorgeous ass.”
“My dimply ass, you mean?” she asked, not feeling threatened at all. Odd. “Would it be a punishment sort of pop or more of a therapy pop? Because I’m not sure I’d be willing to cry over the categorization of my ass. Or is it an erotic spanking? Would you use your hand? Or a paddle?”
Samson rubbed his forehead and sighed softly, and she felt his cock thicken beneath her. “Keep pushing and it’ll be a public spanking, which I don’t think you’re quite ready for.”
“Not during this first visit, I don’t think,” she replied. “But we can table our discussion until we’re alone, I’ll grant you that much. Back to what I was talking about. The fetish apparel. Do you truly want to see so much of me exposed?”
“Within these walls there’s nothing I’d like more. It’s a travesty nobody has ever taken the time to affirm your beauty, not your ex-husband and not your father, and I count myself among that number as well. When you and I were dating, I should’ve been telling you how beautiful I thought you were on a regular basis, and I guess I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. I even saved some of the notes you wrote me in my cedar chest. I…Not that it matters now, but I don’t think I believed you. I thought you were sweet and wonderful for telling me, though.”
“I spoke the truth, then, I promise. And you’re more beautiful now, despite whatever you may look at in the mirror and see as a flaw.”
“Look around, love,” Ivan murmured from right by her shoulder. “How many model-perfect bodies do you see?” She scanned the room, but before she could tell him none of them were perfect, he continued. “You hold yourself to an unreasonably high standard.”
Craning her neck, she looked from one man to the other and then said, “I don’t want to be an embarrassment to you, either of you.”
Samson nodded, gazing into her eyes, and she hoped he could see the truth she was speaking in them. He said, “I have never been so damned proud as I am for every person in this room to see you with me. You’re mine as much as I’m yours. Tell her, Ivan.”
Ivan kissed her shoulder again, the touch tender. “I’d be more inclined to tie you down and feed you cheesecake than to tie you down and spank you, love, but yeah, that’s how I feel. I’m so proud to have you with us, to be seen as yours.”
“And if you chose to wear fetish attire, it wouldn’t necessarily need to be something constricting or uncomfortable. Something revealing and daring would certainly meet with my approval.”
“Black lace,” Ivan whispered. “Stockings and a garter belt. A baby doll nightie. Mmm.”
Cassie giggled at Ivan’s ravenous tone and Samson’s answering growl. “And how exactly would that be more comfortable for me?”
Samson chuckled. “In a nutshell, baby, if I knew you wore it to please me, it would please me very much indeed.”
“I asked you how I should dress tonight. Pleasing you…does it for me.” He smiled at her as she worked it out. “If I don’t want to wear the fetish apparel because it makes me self-conscious, then by submitting and wearing it anyway, I please you, and in the process, it takes my self-consciousness out of the equation. If I have given over the control for how I’m dressed, I’m submitting to you.”
Samson nodded.
I’m still confused, but that at least makes a little sense. “Okay, but that means you’re responsible for what I wear to the club.”
“I’d be delighted. So glad you asked,” he said and then laughed along with her.
Wait. Did I just agree to walk around this damned place in my underwear? Holy crap!
“And if those dimples continue to bother you when you wear it, we could always have a dimple-flattening party. Then everyone would notice my handprints on your juicy, red ass rather than some inconsequential dimples.”
“You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”
“There’s more than one way to please a sadist, baby.”
* * * *
Ivan woke late that night to a cool spot on the bed between him and Samson. He hadn’t even moved yet when Samson rubbed his hand through his hair and said, “She couldn’t sleep and got up a little while ago. She knew you’re going in for Sunday brunch this morning, and she didn’t want to disturb you.”
“She okay?”
“I think so. She said she just has a lot on her mind. I heard her pick up the guitar case before she left the room.”
“I’m gonna go check on her.”
“Sure,” Samson murmured as he rolled to his side. “Coffee shop’s closed today so she can nap later if she wants to. I’ll get up and make the coffee in a few more minutes.”
Ivan grunted a reply as he pulled a pair of sweats from his overnight bag and tiptoed down the hallway. Joseph and Tamara were both staying with friends, and Delicia’s bedroom was on the other side of the house, but he still didn’t want to chance waking Cassie’s mother up. Her health had improved since she’d moved in with Cassie, and Ivan didn’t want to wreck an arrangement that was clearly working by stumbling around like a clumsy bear, waking and potentially embarrassing either of the women. That was another reason they’d held off on a ménage. They’d both wanted complete privacy so Cassie wouldn’t worry about noise, at least the first time.
He paused at the sound of a guitar chord and headed toward the back door. Cassie had dusted off her guitar on Thanksgiving Day, and had managed a few of songs before one string had broken, followed quickly by another. She’d evidently found time in her schedule to pick up some new strings.
Peeking out the window, he spotted her sitting at the patio table, wrapped up in a heavy blanket, a jar candle providing a little light and a weight for the sheet of paper she was writing on.
“I’ll be damned. Is she writing?” Samson asked softly from behind him.
“Shhh, listen.”
Setting aside the pencil, she tucked some hair that had come loose in the wind behind her ear and then took the guitar pick, which she’d held between her lips. Her fingers moved with supple grace over the strings as she plucked out the melody. Goose bumps danced on his arms and shoulders as she hummed along, her voice clear, sweet, and high as she sang the notes along with her instrument.
He gulped and didn’t look behind him wh
en he heard a slight sniffle. It affected him, too. Samson whispered, “I’ve missed that. Remember? She used to hum and sing all the time.”
She stuck the pick back between her lips and picked up the pencil again, her gaze moving off to the east where the sky had gone from black to pearly gray. Her profile was peaceful, and some thought she had made her smile tenderly as she removed the pick from her lips and looked at it. As if ready to focus once more, she sat up straight and began writing on the paper again, which he could see was sheet music, filled with sweeping lines and notes.
Ivan cleared his throat as quietly as possible. “I was considering going out there, but if she’s feeling inspired, I don’t want to disturb her.”
Samson nodded as he watched her. “I was thinking about it, too, but she’s been out there a little while. We ought to at least take her another blanket and some coffee.”
“Good thought,” Ivan said. And a good thing there was enough ambient light in the kitchen for Samson to make coffee without turning on the overhead light and disturbing her concentration. “I’ll go shower.”
“Before you go, I want to ask you something. You said you were thinking about moving back to Divine. Is that still the case?”
No hesitation or thinking it through needed. That was a no-brainer. “Yes, absolutely. I planned to talk with her again about the shop and plans for future development. Why? You, too?”
Samson chuckled. “I never thought I’d say it out loud, but yeah. I’d move back to Divine, and not just for her. I like it here now. Gotten to know some more folks, and yeah, I’d come back. I can always commute for work. It’s not very far to Morehead. What about Hermione?”
Ivan sighed as his gut tightened. “I’ll handle Hermione. With her, it’s just a question of catching her in the right frame of mind.”
Laughter rumbled in Samson’s chest. “Does she have a right frame of mind?”
“Yeah, so I have to act quickly when those moments come before they go just as quickly. Don’t worry about her. So you’re saying…”
How Cassie Got Her Grind Back [Divine Creek Ranch 23] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 27
