Casey

by Claire Marta

  A small, live Christmas tree sat in the corner with its roots balled in a bucket. Hung with a few ornaments, it filled the air with the soft scent of pine.

  She noted all of the musical instruments scattered about the room and looked at Iosefa, who was rarely without earbuds around his neck or in his ears. “Do you play?”

  He stroked his beard and grinned like a mischievous boy. “Yes. I play… and I make. Most of these are mine,” he told her, quiet pride lacing his voice.

  She looked again, taking in the eclectic mix of Native American flutes, tribal frame drums, and stringed instruments. It was impressive as hell if he could play them, let alone make them. Jesus, what else did the man do?

  “I have more in the den,” he told her. “We soundproofed that room.”

  “Ah.” She grinned. “So you don’t bother the others?”

  “No. So they don’t bother me. My recording equipment is in there, too.”

  The Egyptian rejoined them. Casey looked around the room at Iosefa’s instruments and asked Malik if he played.

  “I do,” he drawled, grinning, “but my play requires a safeword. I work with leather,” he added, lowering his voice. After the trauma that she’d endured, Casey was surprised to feel her body react in a positive way. Her girly bits were certainly taking notice.

  A session with leather sounded like something she could get into. Submission didn’t require sex, only trust.

  “Mmm,” she hummed. “Maybe next time we’re at the club, we three can try a play session together. I can bring floggers or we can use yours.”

  A true Dominant, Malik picked up on her use of the word try. “In time,” he said softly. “When you’re ready, Casey Andersson. We will wait for you.”

  Casey’s heart fluttered. She could see the seriousness of his expression. Hear the truth in his words. Blinking away tears, she moved to sit on the sofa, not wanting them to see how they affected her.

  “I got you Christmas presents,” she murmured distractedly. “I don’t mind if you want to wait. Put them under your tree and open them tomorrow.”

  Iosefa moved to join her. Malik sat on the other side with Casey between them.

  The Samoan gestured toward the small tree. “We also have gifts for you.”

  “We could open them now,” Malik suggested softly. “Tomorrow you will be with Helena. Why not celebrate early with us?”

  Casey nodded, grateful that they understood her need to be with her godmother. Helena was happy for her. She accepted her choices. Not that she had thought the older woman wouldn’t. After running a BDSM club, she didn’t bat an eye seeing her goddaughter date two men.

  Rising from the cushions, she retrieved her bag and retook her space. The fragrant smell of coffee and chocolate wafting from inside made both men smile. “Down, boys,” she growled, feeling their anticipation. She handed Malik and Iosefa their packages at the same time. “You may open,” she intoned, watching them tear into them with all the exuberance of kids at their first real Christmas.

  Malik pulled out the stylized sterling silver batwing necklace that she’d chosen for him. “Thank you,” he said, putting it on. “How do I look?”

  Handsome. Good-natured. With easy humor and an eye for detail. “You look good,” she said lightly, wishing that things were different. But he was willing to wait for her.

  They both were.

  Iosefa was flipping through the CD collection she’d bought for him, some obscure bands that she followed. Chances were, he’d never heard of them. “That’s the Dread Monkeys from Bloomington, Illinois,” she told him. “Their first album was a piece of fanfic with songs about the Wizard of Oz. The first Oz book was nearly written when Frank Baum’s wife lost her niece. She was so devastated, the author renamed his heroine Dorothy Gale after little Dorothy Gage who’s buried in Bloomington. I discovered the Dread Monkeys accidentally but I’ve been a huge fan ever since.”

  “Thank you,” the Samoan said, his voice uncharacteristically rough.

  Happy to see him so moved by her gift of music, she pulled out another present and an envelope.

  The men both eyed it, waiting for her to explain. “It’s something for all of us,” she said. Putting the package in her lap, she pulled off the bow and handed it to Malik. Undoing the paper, she gave it to Iosefa and popped open the lid. Inside were three objects wrapped in plain white tissue paper with M, C, and I written on the tops in black felt-tip pen. Pulling out the men’s, she handed their gifts to them and took out hers. “Go on,” she shooed them.

  They didn’t have to be told twice.

  They unwrapped the personalized mugs that she’d had made for them with batwings on one side and their nicknames on the other, The Cowled Crusader and Sidepiece. Hers had a collar and leash on one side and Wildcat on the other.

  “Thank you,” they said, admiring their gifts.

  “You’re probably imagining them filled with your favorite brew.” Casey pulled out an aromatic bag of coffee beans that had been roasted with chocolate nibs. “I had this shipped from Seattle. And the day after tomorrow, there will be technicians here to install these downstairs in the dining hall.”

  Opening the envelope, she pulled out a Christmas card and spread it wide, letting the men see the pictures that she’d taped there. “An electric coffee grinder, an espresso machine, and a latte/cappuccino maker. Now you won’t have to depend on your groupies to bring you coffee.”

  Iosefa’s forehead creased. His eyebrows drew together. “We have not allowed them to bring us coffee for weeks,” he told her. “Since before you let us spend the night. We were already certain that you were our fated mate. We were waiting for you to recognize it, too.”

  Hearing it warmed Casey’s heart. She wouldn’t be tempted to hurt someone.

  “Now our turn!” Malik clapped his hands and rubbed them together. Rising, he crossed to the tiny Christmas tree and returned with four packages, one long, one larger, one shoebox-sized, and one small.

  She opened them in order of size. The small one contained a CD by Iosefa. The cover showed him in his red knit cowl, dark hair blowing in the wind, hugging a small stringed instrument to his heart. “That’s a psaltery,” he explained. “Like King David would have played. His music drove away demons. Mine is to keep your nightmares at bay and help you rest.”

  “It’s lovely,” she breathed, feeling the love that went into its making. “Thank you.”

  The middle box was next. Inside were three black leather masks, two masculine and one more feminine. “Malik made them for us,” Iosefa told her.

  “We’ve noticed that Master Gardeners wear half-masks,” Malik explained. “Now that you know we are Moses and Aaron, we no longer need to hide behind our hoods.”

  Casey remembered their conversation earlier. When Malik said he worked with leather, he meant exactly what he’d said and her mind had put a whole new spin on it.

  The large box was next. She peeled off the layers of tissue paper to find a concealed-carry leather purse that Malik had made for her, styled like a high-end designer bag.

  “Christ,” she breathed. “This is great. Really. I had no idea you two were so talented.”

  And thoughtful. The next gift put her in tears. Warned to be cautious, she unwrapped the longest package to find an acrylic display case holding a baseball bat. Leaning closer, she saw that it had been autographed by the cast of Bull Durham.

  Malik and Iosefa knew that she loved movies. They’d given her a rare and perfect gift.

  Her own seemed paltry by comparison.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Malik’s gaze softened, seeing the shimmer of happy tears in Casey’s stunning blue eyes. They had chosen well. Her friend Morgan had been a huge source of helpful information. After everything she had been through, it was good to see their female experiencing a moment of pure joy.

  “Come, we will show you our apartment,” Malik told her. Rising from the sofa, he noted that she’d dressed for comfort in an oversized swea
ter, yoga pants, thick socks, and suede clogs that she slipped off by the door. “We have worked hard to create a home for you.”

  Casey carefully arranged her gifts on the coffee table before joining him, Iosefa following. Leading her along the corridor he showed her the kitchen first. Although they shared a communal dining area on the first floor, each apartment was designed to be self-sufficient. Outfitted with gleaming new stainless steel appliances, the eat-in kitchen was spacious enough to easily hold a trestle table with a bench seat and five chairs—a perfect place to enjoy a family meal.

  Next was the hallway bathroom. Graced with blue marble, it held a large bathtub with a shower on one side and a toilet at the far end. A perfectly folded fingertip towel was draped on the double sink, waiting to be used.

  Further down was the den where Malik worked and Iosefa played. CDs lined the walls. Musical instruments were positioned on one side. On the other was a table laden with tools and a stack of leather hides in various colors, thicknesses, and finishes.

  Casey took it all in with a look of curiosity. She even pointed out a few things, asking what they were.

  Next, they made their way to the master bedroom. An immense bed dominated the expansive space, large enough to fit three people comfortably. The room was decorated in greens and silvers. One door led to a walk-in closet. Only half of it was in use. The other side was waiting to be filled with feminine things. Casey’s things.

  A second door opened into an ensuite. A sunken Roman-style bath was at the far end of the room, set in a marble surround. The steps leading up to it were flanked by white stone pillars that gave rise to all kinds of fantasies. Malik could see that Casey’s mind was going there, too.

  “You would look lovely bound to it,” he rumbled, skimming the cool surface with the backs of his fingers. “We could roleplay. Be Roman guards and a slave girl bound for their pleasure. Spanking. Flogging. Fucking…”

  He relished the look in her eyes, sharing his vision. There was a new note in the air. The scent of Casey’s arousal was subtle but there. The question was, how soon could she stand to be touched? She’d been traumatized. Victimized. Assaulted. Raped. Still, her reactions today gave them hope for the future—a future that they intended to share with this woman and their child.

  Casey shook herself, breaking the spell that had held her in its thrall. Malik pointed out the louvered doors on one side that hid the commode and bidet. An alcove on the other side framed an extravagant glass shower.

  Their reflections gazed back at them in the long, perfectly placed mirror above the three matching sinks. Some of the shelves held male toiletries. Another set was empty, waiting for the things Casey would bring when she moved in.

  They hoped she would move in, Malik corrected. They had yet to ask her. He was nervous about her answer when they did.

  The second to last room in the apartment was something they had been saving. Working tirelessly, they’d prepared it to perfection. Pushing open the door, Malik held his breath in anticipation. Keeping his gaze locked on Casey, he watched shock soften into something sweeter. Stepping over the threshold of the nursery, she moved toward the crib. It was made of wood and painted white to match the other furnishings. A chest of drawers was against one wall, topped with a changing mat still wrapped in plastic. On the other side of the crib was a sturdy white wooden-slatted playpen.

  The wall behind them was painted like a cloudy sky with a rainbow arching overhead, a symbol of God’s promise to mankind. Theo had painted the rest of the walls a peaceful, heavenly blue. The other end of the long room had a set of shelves for books. A toy box waited to be filled with stuffed animals. A rocker was in a corner, a cozy woolen blanket draped over the back for the winter months, a gift knitted by Zac when they’d first moved in. Now they had a use for it. A loveseat for the two of them sat nearby, creating a space where they could share the joys and the challenges of parenthood.

  Casey gently fingered the netting that hung over the crib. “It’s so beautiful.”

  “We wanted it to be ready for both of you,” Iosefa told her proudly from where he leaned against the doorframe. “Perfect for you. For our family.”

  Malik frowned when a tiny sob broke from her throat. Shaking her head, she wrapped her arms protectively around her waist.

  “I’m sorry,” Casey choked out. “It’s just... I’ve lost everyone close to me. Morgan’s been the only one to elude the curse, but I almost lost her, too. I’m terrified of losing you both… and this baby..., if it’s Ivan’s…”

  A tortured look passed over her expression. Malik wasted no time crossing the room to gather her in his arms. When she didn’t pull away from him, he took it as a good sign.

  “You will not lose us,” he assured her fiercely, seeking some solution to dissolve all her fears. “You are not cursed and we will see to it you are never alone again. I swear this to you, my wildcat. You have already gained a family within these walls. Not just me and Iosefa but all of our brothers and soon their mates.”

  Iosefa joined them, hugging her from behind and resting his chin on her crown. “And we have already told you the baby is ours. It was not possible for you to conceive with a human male a week after we first made love.”

  It had been more than sex for him and Iosefa. They had already fallen for their wildcat.

  Casey’s arms encircled them both, clinging tightly. “I can still feel his hands on my skin. His mouth on mine. Him inside me… I just want to wipe it all away. Please tell me you have the power to do that.”

  The tears were falling faster now. It broke Malik’s heart to see her in such distress. Tilting her chin up carefully, he covered her mouth with his. The taste of her tears and sorrow merged on his lips. They couldn’t erase the Russian from her mind but maybe if she trusted them enough, they could replace it with sweeter memories.

  The ice of her resistance gradually thawed. When she melted against him, he fisted her hair and deepened their kiss, thrusting his tongue between her parted lips to duel and then dance with her own. She moaned into his mouth, responding to the feel of his fingers grasping her once-more blonde locks, thrilling to his Domination and letting him take control.

  Stepping close behind her, Iosefa caught her wrists in his hand. Instead of pinning them to her side, he raised them shoulder-high as if giving her wings to fly. “You’ve seen what we are but you don’t know what we are,” he said, his breath warm on the nape of her neck. “Our kind were once angels but during the war in heaven, we sought refuge on Earth and became stuck here as Prodigals, unable to return home until we have redeemed ourselves. For millennia, we have watched over and defended humankind, guarding against evil and serving the Throne below as we once did above.

  “A call went out, and those willing to take on a robe of flesh did so, for the sole purpose of aiding mankind, ushering in the next stage of their evolutionary process. The four strands of DNA that we carry mean two more steps toward returning to the twelve-strand potential. Only a fated mate will be transformed and able to conceive our children. You are one of the chosen, Casey. You and Morgan. We are blessed with your presence and honored by your acceptance, your choice to be with us. We love you. We cherish you. We know that you have committed yourself to helping Precious Pet make her transition but remember that you and your health must come first. We are here to help you. As your Dominants, we are pledged to meet your needs in every way we can. Just say the word, and we are yours.

  “Tell us,” Iosefa crooned. Stroking the undersides of her arms, he followed their curve to her breasts and lovingly cupped them in his hands. “Tell us what you need.”

  The air was thick with the musk of her arousal, but she would have to tell them what she wanted from them.

  Malik tightened his hold and whispered against her mouth. “Tell us, wildcat. We need words.”

  She quieted and blinked the last vestiges of tears from her eyes. Raising her gaze to meet his, she whispered. “I… need… you. Both of you. Please, Sirs. Help me
do this. I… I can’t let him win….”

  Malik caught her lower lip in the cage of his teeth and bit it. His fingers ached to touch her intimately but he decided it was better to let her first get used to the feel of him… of them…

  Taking her hand, he brought it to his chest, pressed her fingers against his heart, and slowly guided them down over his shirt, encouraging her to relearn the feel of his body. Casey reached his erection and hesitated for a moment before fondling his length through his jeans. Feeling the proof of his desire, she moaned in her throat, her eyelids drifting shut.

  Iosefa nipped at her shoulder playfully, his seeking hands moving to the front of her yoga pants. When his flat palm slid beneath the waistband to cup her shaven mound, Casey gasped.

  “Our mate. Our woman. Our wildcat. Your wish is our pleasure to grant,” he rumbled in her ear.

  Together, Malik and Iosefa stripped her of the clothes that she was wearing. Leaving on her bra and panties, Malik swept her up and carried her to the master bedroom like a cherished bride.

  He knew they could not push her too far. The trust she had bestowed on them was precious and fragile. They needed to build her up, reassure her before they could ever hope to play with the freedom she had once welcomed.

  Iosefa turned down the covers and readied their bed to receive their fated mate. Keeping one foot on the floor, Malik placed his knee on the mattress and lowered her to lie in the center of the bed. Iosefa reached for the buttons on his shirt and thought better of it. This was for Casey. They didn’t want to push too far, too fast.

  There was something about being fully clothed while their submissive was naked and vulnerable. Still dressed, Iosefa stretched out beside her. Malik followed suit, easing against her to keep her sheltered and warm. Their hands worshipped the temple of her body. Their lips praised her strength, her courage, her beauty. Their fingers dried her tears and theirs when she decided she was ready for more.