Wham! Wham!
“Ow! Fuck!” She struggled to rise up and he wouldn’t allow it. Her ass and thighs and her back grew tighter.
“Your father didn’t show you love. A father is supposed to model unselfish love to his kids, not yell all the time,” he said in an even voice.
“It hurts! Ow!”
Wham! Wham! Wham!
“And he bartered you to a man who was loyal to him so he could keep you under his thumb even after you married.”
Wham!
“Son of a bitch! Fucking son of a bitch!” she hollered as she bucked and got nowhere.
Wham!
“You keep it together because you’re so used to having no choice. Cassandra, you have a choice.”
Wham!
She let out a long, haunting keening sound as the tension crested and her body started to judder in his hold. There we are.
“Let it go, Cassandra. We’ve got you.”
* * * *
The ache in her hot butt was worse than any spanking she’d gotten while she was growing up, but she didn’t feel wronged. On the contrary, she felt freed as the emotions overflowed and left her howling. She didn’t even care if she landed on the floor in a heap as she let it all out.
“He didn’t love me. He didn’t hug or show me affection. He didn’t care about me except for what work I could do for him. If I wanted to live in his house, I had to work from the time I was itty-bitty. He wanted a slave, not a daughter. He didn’t care that I was in the coffee shop. It upset him that Joseph was in there, but he didn’t say a word about me being in there. I—I don’t think it would have bothered him if I’d died because-because I’m such a disappointment to him. He told me that today. He took Divine Drip from me. He hurt people all his life and everyone made excuses for him—even me!”
Her throat hurt as she sobbed, tears clogged her throat and ran over her temples and forehead as she hung limp over Samson’s lap.
“He hated me, even though I tried and tried and tried to win his approval. It was never enough. It’ll never be enough. I’ll never be enough.”
She was limp as a noodle, all the terrible pain and tension draining from her as she was turned and lifted into Samson’s arms. Samson tilted to one side and then she was swaddled in a velvety soft velour blanket. The throw from the chair Ivan had sat in.
“Cassie,” Samson whispered. “You’ll always be enough for us. Always.” His voice shaky with emotion.
Ivan said, “And being enough for us isn’t based on what you can do for us but on who you are to us.”
She could barely open her eyes as Samson cuddled her so that her head was resting on his chest in the spot below his collar bone where her head seemed to fit so perfectly. He sat so that Ivan faced him and she was comforted as they stroked her through the blanket, which she held on to as if it were a life line as the pent-up emotions dissipated.
“You got hard hands,” she murmured, giggling when her words came out a little slurred.
A husky chuckle rumbled from his chest. “I’ve heard that before. I wanted to get through all those walls you’ve built up. You were hurting yourself worse by holding it all in.”
“Think I understand what Victoria said a little better now.” She looked up at him, barely able to keep her eyes open. “Thank you.”
She reached up to him, to pull his head down for a kiss. His warm lips against hers were the last thing she felt as exhaustion finally caught up with her.
* * * *
It was dark outside when Cassie opened her eyes. She listened to the sounds around her, trying to remember why she’d gone to bed and if she’d forgotten to do something.
Then it all came back. The fire. Joseph still in the hospital. Her father and that horrible scene. The spanking. Flipping back the fluffy blanket, she recalled she was nude when the cool air from the ceiling fan hit her warmed skin. A jaw-cracking yawn made stretching irresistible, which reminded her of why she was naked when her ass rubbed against the velour. The soft nap felt like sandpaper against her abused posterior.
Someone must’ve heard her pained groan as she stretched her sore leg muscles, because she heard Samson and Ivan’s dual bass rumbles from the kitchen and then the creak of footsteps in the hall.
“Hey, baby,” Ivan said as his shadowy figure filled the doorway and he came to the side of the bed and set something on the night table before turning on the lamp. “How do you feel?” he asked as he stroked her cheek and her bare shoulder.
She cupped her hand over his. “Like a balloon that’s had all its air let out, but in a good sense. How long did I sleep? Is Samson okay? Are you okay?”
Ivan grinned as she sat up, keeping the blanket wrapped around her, and moved over so he could join her on the bed.
“He’s fine. You slept for a couple of hours and probably need several more, but I wanted to feed you a little something.”
“I missed supper?”
“Don’t worry about that. We fixed the meal, ate, and cleaned up, and there’s plenty left if you want it, but in light of what you dealt with earlier, I’ve decided to bring you your dessert first.” He reached for the stoneware bowl on the night table and dipped a spoon into it, gathering up a bite. The aroma was mouthwatering.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Bread pudding with Jack Daniels sauce, and a scoop of Blue Bell’s finest.” He hovered the loaded spoon before her and shook his head when she reached to take it. “Nope. You have strict instructions from the Dom to not lift a finger. Let me feed you.” She glanced up in time to see the vulnerability in his gaze, the need to take care of her and comfort her. She opened her mouth, and moaned as the warm bread pudding and whiskey sauce combined with the melting vanilla ice cream made her taste buds go twang. It was sheer heaven.
He waggled his eyebrows as she moaned. “That’s a nice sound. Is it good?”
“So good. I want more.”
“I like the sound of that,” he said and took in a deep breath and let it out, seeming to relax right where he sat as he scooped up another bite.
“You didn’t answer all of my questions.” She took the spoonful he offered and closed her eyes in bliss.
“I’m okay, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’ve never been around Samson when he’s done anything…like that before. It was unsettling, especially when I could tell it was starting to really hurt, but then I noticed how you were struggling to hold it all in. Then I understood.”
“Understood what?” she asked before he gave her another bite.
“Why you needed the release. Why it was the perfect way to get to you. You’ve been almost unsettlingly quiet the last several days, except for when you woke up screaming from nightmares. We could see you having flashbacks during the day, and it was obvious you were holding in a lot of emotion and it was taking its toll on you. The spanking seemed to break the dam you’d built up.”
“Did it ever.”
“And I think I even understand why Samson does what he does. I guess when he told me he was a sadist, I let my imagination get the best of me. You know, like that he beat on hapless masochists who begged for it with villain-like glee. I watched him, baby. He was utterly focused on you, your every move, every twitch, probably every breath you took. He knew what he was doing…where he was taking you, and why. Now that I see the results, and understand what he does, I also understand why. Because he couldn’t stand seeing you suffer. He had to do something to help you. And when he was through, it seemed like…No, it didn’t ‘seem like’ anything at all, the satisfaction was written all over his face, because you let him help you.”
He continued feeding her bites as she mulled over what he said. “I’m glad you were there.”
“I wanted to be there for you, even though I had no intention of participating. I’d be too nervous about hurting you and probably miss all the cues that he’s trained to watch for in a submissive. Although…” he added, trailing off as he gave her another
spoonful.
“What?” she murmured over her mouthful.
He winked at her. “I might try a sexy spanking with you sometime. You know? Just something for fun while we’re fooling around.”
Cassie giggled. “We’ll discuss that later, when my butt cheeks aren’t boiling hot.”
Samson’s laughter rumbled as he came down the hall to lean against the door frame. “How’s your ass?”
“It’ll recover. How’s your hand?” she quipped as he closed the door and locked it behind him.
He came around to the other side of the bed and sat down beside her. “I think I’ll survive,” he murmured as he stroked her shoulder. Vulnerability softened his tone. “Thank you for trusting me, Cassandra.”
“You earned that trust, honey. I won’t say it was fun, but I do feel like a heavy load has been lifted from my shoulders.”
“You’ve been carrying that burden a while, I guess,” he said and then looked over at the bowl in Ivan’s hand. “Is Ivan taking good care of you?”
“You both are.” She touched their forearms and said, “Thank you. Both of you. You knew what I needed.”
“Speaking of needing something,” Samson said as he showed her the tube in his hand, “this is a soothing cream. I like using it for aftercare. It’ll help with the stinging and with any welts that are still there.”
He tugged the blanket loose and tilted her on her side toward Ivan and his heavenly dessert. She went with it, squeaking when he smoothed some of the super chilly cream onto her still-very-hot bottom.
“How do you feel otherwise, chiquita?” he asked, his blue eyes meeting hers, his question clear.
“Better. Wrung-out, but better.”
He nodded. “There’s not much we can do about the situation with your father besides help you see that he gets proper care wherever he winds up after all the dust settles. But Ivan and I are going to be here for you. I don’t know if you remember much of what I said earlier, but I was being serious when I said that you are enough for us, just the way you are and who you are, and we want to be there for you no matter what comes at us down the road. Now, you need more rest, unless you want to have supper.”
“Nope,” she said with a shake of her head as she pushed the blanket off of her and came up on her hands and knees, hissing when her butt made contact with her heels. “Ivan spoiled my appetite for dinner…but I’ve developed an appetite for another kind of dessert. If you’re both willing, that is.”
Ivan had his fly unbuttoned and unzipped in the blink of an eye. Samson worked the top button loose on his jeans as he chuckled and slid down onto the bed. “Sweetest words I’ve ever heard, chiquita. I’ve been hard ever since you started squirming over my lap.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
When Ivan returned home from picking up the belongings he’d kept at Hermione, mostly tools of the trade, as well as the few articles he kept in his locker, he left them in the truck until they could sit down with her later that night to finally talk.
Inside her house, he found Cassie sitting at the baby grand piano they’d given her for Christmas. She’d rearranged the furniture in the living room to make room for it in front of the picture window, leaving the room a little cramped. The happy glow on her face every time she played it made up for cramped knees and bruised shins.
He was especially glad now that they’d chosen to replace the piano her father had sold years before because she’d sat at it a lot in the several days since the spanking, finding solace in her music.
Joseph’s treatment and recovery were progressing, and he and Ivan were already talking plans for the new incarnation of Divine Drip. The same, only better, with more seating, a bigger menu, and evening hours for the night owls. But Cassie still insisted on being closed on Sundays.
“When I retire, you can set whatever hours you want. Until then…I’m the boss,” she’d said and then had giggled when Samson had cocked a brow. It’d been the first time Ivan had heard that sound in days.
Delicia had announced the day before that she was going away to spend a few days with her sister, who lived in San Antonio.
“What are your plans?” Cassie asked.
Delicia kissed her daughter’s forehead. “We’re spending some girl time together and might go shopping if the weather is pretty. Don’t worry, mi hija, no gambling. I promise. And she’s picking me up and bringing me back home so you don’t need to worry about me driving.”
Cassie had looked reassured and relieved by that news, and over her mom’s head, she’d winked at him suggestively. Although Delicia’s vision wasn’t as good as it had been, her hearing was as acute as ever so they’d kept their lovemaking quiet. Thoughts of the rambunctious fun they’d planned for her once they were finally alone had caused him to walk around with a semi-boner all day. He could almost taste her.
She was so wrapped up in the tune she played, she gasped when he came up behind her and pressed a soft kiss to the spot at the juncture between her neck and her shoulder, knowing the skin was so sensitive there it would spread a trail of goose bumps all over her body.
“You startled me. Oh, how gorgeous!” she said as she reached for him, admiring the paper-wrapped bouquet he laid on the piano so he could embrace her.
“Don’t let me disturb you if you’re working. The melody is beautiful.”
“I was making supper, and it came to me. So while my casserole was baking I’ve been writing.” She paused and smiled. “I used to do that all the time, have bits of melodies or lyrics come to mind that I’d write down to work on later, but then I got married and Bill wanted supper on the table and the house picked up when he got home…and then kids came along. I’d tell myself I’d remember and write my ideas down later, but with little ones and a husband to take care of, I’d forget. After a while, that creativity…tapered off until it stopped. I found some of those notes mixed in with the sheet music in my guitar case this afternoon, and it all started coming back.”
It pleased Ivan that her eyes shone with happiness, but her smile had a sad quality to it, and he said, “Bill was a throwback from another time, taking advantage of your devotion. It doesn’t help much now, but if I’d been lucky enough…” The sudden thought of being the one who’d fathered her children and come home to her every day made him breathless so he took a seat on the bench beside her. “I would’ve helped you and not made a servant out of you.”
Placing her hand on his chest, she said, “I didn’t resent my role. I was proud of taking care of my family, and the kids were so good, and he was a stable provider. To complain felt like…inviting trouble. Now I’m in a season in my life where I can pick up those loose threads.” She caressed the black lacquer finish of the piano. “And I even have a piano to work with. Despite the bad stuff, life is good.”
“And only going to get better, baby,” he murmured as he brushed his lips against hers. “Samson texted that he’d left work and should be here soon.”
Checking her watch, she said, “Supper is nearly done. I’ll have it on the table in just a few minutes.”
He stopped her and said, “I’ll handle it. I need to put the flowers in water, too. You relax and finish what you were writing.”
Sounding surprised, Cassie said, “I still need to cut up the ingredients for a salad to go with the chicken and rice. I can have it done in no time—”
Ivan chuckled and urged her back to the piano bench. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m pretty handy with a knife.”
“You’re sure?” she asked, picking up her pencil again.
“Very,” he murmured as he stole one more kiss. “I’ll let you know when it’s all ready.”
The sound of the piano and her soft humming was relaxing as he listened from the kitchen. A few minutes later, he heard Samson come in the front door and greet her quietly before coming in the kitchen, a grin on his face as he tilted his head in her direction and whispered, “That’s a fine sight to come home to.”
“Isn’t it?”
he murmured as he finished stirring the ingredients for a homemade salad dressing and placed it on the table with everything else. He turned expectantly to his brother and grinned when Samson patted a lump in his coat pocket.
After everything was set, he lit the candles and turned out the lights while Samson went into the living room. The piano went quiet and he bit his lip as he listened to their quiet murmurs, and the silence of a long kiss, before Samson drew her by the hand into the dim kitchen.
“Candles? And flowers. Wow. And we have the house to ourselves,” she said. “Is there a special occasion I forgot about?”
“Well, we do have news,” Samson offered as he pulled out her chair for her.
“What news?” she asked as she lifted the cover on the casserole and said, “If I’d known this was going to be an occasion I would’ve made something fancier than chicken and rice casserole.”
“Are you kidding?” Samson asked, rubbing his stomach. “This is one of my favorites.”
“So what’s your news?” she asked after they’d served themselves, as Ivan poured white wine into a glass for her.
Samson nodded to him as he filled a frosted beer glass for his brother and then took his seat. “Eat first while it’s hot. Then we’ll tell you our news.”
Looking as if she wanted to insist, she finally nodded. Anticipation filled him as they ate. When the meal was nearly done, she said, “I can’t stand it anymore. What’s your news?”
After taking a sip of his wine, Ivan smiled at her. “I’ve left Hermione’s employment.”
“What? You did? But how?”
He explained to her all that had come to pass on the day of the fire and his subsequent conversations with his former employer. “After the nonsense she pulled, visiting the shop, and then her appalling lack of compassion the day of the fire, I realized there was no way I could be happy working there anymore. She flew off the handle when I told her as much and went so far as to insist that you’d set the fire yourself, for attention. When she demanded I work out the duration of my contract, which expires in March, I pointed out she’d already breached it in front of witnesses by not giving me thirty days’ notice.”
How Cassie Got Her Grind Back [Divine Creek Ranch 23] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 33
