by Mari Carr
Caden ran his hand through his hair, trying to understand why he’d said that. He played his cards close to his chest—always. His comment had opened a door. One he wasn’t sure he wanted to open.
Tess’ confusion morphed into concern. This was why he didn’t share. He didn’t want to see the looks of disgust or pity on other people’s faces. His parents may have been abusive assholes, but that didn’t excuse Caden following in their footsteps, using their training as a way to escape—at Rose’s expense.
“Maybe we should sit down.” Tess gestured toward the couch.
Caden dropped onto it because, right now, the urge to run was too strong. He felt trapped, defeated. In the past, he would seek out Rose whenever those feelings got too heavy. He’d strap her to the bed and…
He closed his eyes to block out the memories. Rose had always come to him willingly, submitted so beautifully. And it hadn’t been only his demons they’d exorcised during their scenes—she’d had plenty of her own. But hindsight was 20/20 and as his vision continued to focus, he started to see things in a different light. Had she come of her own free will or because he’d collared her, claimed her?
Those times—in her arms—had felt like his release, his saving grace. He’d always told himself that he and Rose both needed the darkness. But had those been the times when she’d felt most helpless?
His stomach roiled and he swallowed down the bile rising to his throat.
Tess sat down next to him and took his hand. “Talk to us.”
He glanced over. Isaiah had taken a seat in an armchair across from them, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned toward Caden. He was fairly certain he could push the man—and the woman—away with just a few words.
He could spout off his parents’ beliefs about trinities and how they worked. He could assign Isaiah the role of switch and proclaim Tess the submissive. He could insist that was the only way their trinity would work, and he could convince them that was the way it had to be. He could take control of their trinity, and train these two people to respond to his leadership and his dominance.
When Caden was younger, Elroy had declared him blessed with a silver tongue. It was one of the rare times the man had said something he’d meant as a genuine compliment. He’d told Caden that gift would serve him well because most people were sheep simply waiting to be picked off by the lions. Caden, Elroy insisted, would be a lion; he would sway the weaker with his words, and if that failed, he would drive them to their knees with his strength.
Caden closed his eyes. Not wise, he thought. Abusive bullshit.
A faint smile crossed his lips as he considered starting a list of misplaced lessons. He needed a cheat sheet.
“Caden?” Tess said, squeezing his hand gently. It would take very little effort on his part to use that grip against her. To twist and pull until she was on her knees in front of him.
“What do you know about BDSM?”
Caden was tired. Of hiding, running, lying, pretending. All of it. Isaiah and Tess had asked him for truth, so fuck it. He’d give it to them. Then leave it to them to decide if he could be “fixed.” If they were smart, they’d return to the Grand Master and demand a new third.
“The sex acts?” Isaiah asked. At the same time Tess said, “Very little.”
Caden leaned back against the couch and poured it all out. “My parents started training me to be a Dom when I was sixteen.” He heard Isaiah’s gasp, but he ignored it. That was far from the most shocking thing he was going to hear.
“What do you mean training?” Isaiah asked.
“They took me to the apartment where they kept their submissive, Pet—that’s what they called her, Pet—and…” He glanced over at Tess. “Let’s just say my first time wasn’t something I chose.”
Tess didn’t say anything, but Caden noticed her expression changed, the concern replaced by something else. Something almost fierce. He soaked that in, knowing it was bound to disappear soon.
“As you know, I’m a legacy; my parents were members. They insisted that each trinity consisted of a Dom, a switch, and a submissive. They were determined my brother Weston and I would be the Doms in our arranged marriages. Our foster sister, Rose, was trained to be submissive. She was sixteen when they started instructing her, too.”
“I don’t understand how you train someone for those roles,” Isaiah said.
“I’m sure you can figure it out if you think about it.” Caden really didn’t want to go into too much detail in front of Tess.
“That’s child abuse,” Tess said simply.
“My parents were wealthy and power hungry, and they held on to ideals that were popular in the early nineteenth century with a fierce tenacity.”
“What ideals?” Isaiah was no longer leaning forward, but standing.
That didn’t take long, Caden thought. Isaiah was probably one more answer away from punching the shit out of him and leaving the hotel room. Given Isaiah’s background, his ancestors’ painful history of slaves and masters wasn’t going to endear his parents—or Caden, by extension—to the man.
Regardless of that fact, Caden decided to give it all to them. Partly because he was tired of carrying this load alone, and partly because there was a small, petty part of him that liked breaking the rules. Devon had forbidden him from telling this story, so he shot the man a quick middle finger in his mind and let it all out.
“My ancestors started working to keep the Trinity Masters pure in the forties. There’s nothing like having a few murderous Nazi sympathizers swinging around the family tree. The only thing they coveted more than a lily-white world was money. They sank a neutral ship during World War II because they’d received intel that it contained treasure. It did. However, in addition to priceless artwork, it was also carrying a bunch of children. They killed the kids, took the treasure, and buried the secret, passing it along to their own children as a way of keeping all the money they could make from the stolen artwork in the family. The enemy the Grand Master’s advisor mentioned, the one in the poem? They’re the ones we stole the artwork from. They’re seeking revenge.”
“This sounds like fiction, like something I’d put in a book.” Isaiah had paced his way across the room, but now he stopped to refill his glass of merlot.
Caden shrugged. “Probably be a best seller. If you don’t mind the fact that your future husband is one of the villains.”
“You’re not a villain.” Tess squeezed his hand again, and Caden was surprised to discover she was still holding it.
“I worked with my parents to protect that secret. When they found a buyer for one of the pieces of art on the black market, I was the one who retrieved the stolen goods and made the transaction so they could fill their coffers even more.”
“They were your parents. You were just a teenager.”
Caden scoffed at her misunderstanding. “I was doing all of this as recently as last year.”
“Why?”
Caden frowned at Isaiah’s question. “Why?”
He’d only known these two people a day, and despite his rude attitude and everything he’d just told them, they both seemed to hold on to some misplaced belief that he was a good person. He’d spent so many years with his soul painted black, he wasn’t sure how to respond to their faith in him.
“Yes, why?” Isaiah repeated. “There’s no question everything you’re telling us disgusts you. You clearly aren’t proud of your family or the things they made you do. So what made you stay and participate?”
This was the hard part of the story. Because as much as Caden hated the things he’d done under his parents’ commands, they weren’t as horrible as the things he’d done on his own, under the guise of protecting Rose and Tabby.
“For my sisters.”
“Sisters? Plural?” Isaiah asked.
“You mentioned a sister named Tabitha when we met Mrs. Hancock outside the library,” Tess whispered.
Caden hated that Tess and Isaiah had witnessed that conversation with
Priscilla, and he was surprised by how much they’d remembered. He couldn’t begin to imagine what conclusions they’d drawn from the things said.
“Tabitha is my biological sister.”
“They were abusing Tabitha too?” Tess asked.
“No. Not exactly. Tabby wasn’t trained like Rose. She isn’t well. She suffers from something called Friedreich’s ataxia. My parents shipped her away and put her in a special hospital—after all, she wasn’t healthy and beautiful, so she wasn’t going to be a member of the Trinity Masters, and therefore didn’t matter. But they used her—made certain we couldn’t visit her unless we did what they wanted, threatened her safety as a way of keeping me in line.”
Isaiah crossed the room to sit next to him on the couch. He placed a firm hand on Caden’s shoulder. “I knew it. They were blackmailing you, using your sister to ensure you obeyed them. None of this was your fault, Caden. What other choice did you have?”
Caden knew Isaiah’s question was rhetorical, but he answered it in his head anyway. He had plenty of choices. At the time, he hadn’t believed so, but hearing what his brother Weston had done—how he had saved Rose and Tabby without hurting them or damaging his own soul—proved that Caden had done everything wrong.
“How did you get shot?” Tess asked.
Caden had tugged off his shirt in the dressing room to guarantee that his new partners saw what they were getting when he took off the robe. Part of him had been hoping they’d be so repulsed, they’d beg the Grand Master to change her mind immediately.
“The last time my parents asked me to retrieve something for them, some stuff went wrong. I was shot. The Grand Master has eyes and ears everywhere, so she sent someone in to get me, to clean up the mess. I was taken to a hospital and then to a safe house to recuperate.”
He was skipping too much, skimming over so many of the important parts. But even as he sat here, longing to confess all his sins, he couldn’t make himself talk about her.
About Rose.
About the things he’d done to her.
“And your parents were killed?” Isaiah asked.
“Yes,” Caden said woodenly. “I blew up their yacht.”
No one spoke for several moments, and Caden figured he’d finally pushed them away.
Tess was the first to break the silence. “Good. I’m glad they’re dead.”
Caden’s eyes jerked toward her, and she laughed at his incredulous face.
Isaiah laughed as well, but clearly it was Tess he found funny, not Caden. “Looks like the Grand Master gave us a kitten with very sharp claws to protect us, Cade. Something tells me we’re going to be safe from now on. We’ve got Tess in our corner.”
Cade. It wasn’t the first time he’d been called that. Weston and Rose used the shorter version all the time. However, it bespoke familiarity and friendship. It seemed odd to think that after everything he’d just told them, they would feel protective of him, that they’d formed some sort of kinship.
Tess had asked for the truth and he’d given it. Just not all of it. He’d omitted too much.
He pushed away the fear of what would happen when they discovered the rest. Caden had spent the last few months alone with only his dark thoughts and regrets for company. Being with these two people felt…God…it felt good. It felt as if they could make a conversation about something as simple as the weather interesting and fun. So, he gave into the foreign feeling pressing against his chest and joined in on their laughter. His sounded rusty as hell.
Caden couldn’t recall the last time he’d been around normal people whose problems were no bigger than trying to figure out what to make for dinner. There had been a time when he had hoped this sort of life would be possible with Rose, but even as he longed for it, he knew it was never meant to be.
Tess leaned toward him, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek. Once again, he was moved by the innocence behind it. Every time she touched him, he found himself at war—torn between coddling her and claiming her.
“I’m glad you told us,” Isaiah said. His hand was still resting on Caden’s shoulder, and as he tightened his grip there, Caden felt the beginning of something like desire. For Tess and Isaiah.
“So,” Isaiah said, rising slowly. “Anyone else have something to confess? Because if not, I think we should open another bottle of wine and—”
“Actually,” Tess interrupted. “I have something I should probably tell you.”
Isaiah stopped midway to the bar and turned back toward them. “Damn,” he muttered good-naturedly. “I’m starting to feel like the boring one in this trinity. Lucky for you two, I write fiction for a living. I’m about to cook up a fake confession of my own so I fit in.”
Tess giggled softly, but Caden thought it sounded more nervous than amused. Then her cheeks began to flush, giving away her uneasiness. They were still holding hands, though hers had begun to go slack, as if she’d tug it away.
Caden firmed his grip and lifted her knuckles to his lips, giving her a soft kiss. She’d offered support to him and he was determined to give her the same. “I suspect there’s not much you could say that would be very shocking after mine.”
He’d meant his words as comfort, but she didn’t take them that way.
“I’m a virgin,” she blurted out.
Caden fought to school his features, but failed. “I stand corrected,” he murmured.
Tess laughed louder, and this time, there was humor in the sound.
Caden wished he could share it, but she’d done something he hadn’t believed possible.
She’d terrified him.
Isaiah perched on the coffee table in front of her, taking her other hand. “I feel like there might be a story behind this.”
Tess grinned. “Well, let me just clarify that it wasn’t due to lack of offers.” She looked over at Caden, and her expression was so irresistibly adorable, he couldn’t help but smile. “Lots of offers.”
“I’m sure there were,” Caden said sincerely. How could a man look at her, talk to her, and not want her?
“So…” Isaiah prompted.
“I’m a legacy, and I’ve known from a young age what my future held in terms of marriage. I know it probably sounds completely old-fashioned and maybe even weird, but I wanted to save myself for my partners. Wanted our first night together to be special. If I’d known at sixteen when I made that decision that the Grand Master wouldn’t call me to the altar until I was nearly thirty, I might have rethought the whole thing. Problem is I’m stubborn, so when I set my mind to something, I tend to dig my heels in.”
“You’re not weird,” Isaiah said. “You’re limited edition.”
Caden laughed again, and this time the sound came easier and was more natural, despite the panic setting in.
A virgin.
He’d been wrong. The Grand Master had found the perfect way to punish him after all.
Chapter Nine
Tess sucked in a shaky breath.
So far, so good.
She’d had a decade—and then some—to imagine meeting her partners, wondering what her wedding night would be like. After hearing about Caden’s life, about the abuse he’d suffered at his parents’ hands, she wasn’t quite sure if she was happy she’d saved herself for this night or if she should kick her own ass.
There was so much going on in Caden’s head. They hadn’t scratched the surface in the “getting to know you” phase, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want these men. Desperately.
“So no one’s freaking out?” she asked.
Isaiah shook his head, grinning widely. “I’m good. Cade?”
Caden hesitated, glancing from her to Isaiah and back again. “I’m fine, Tess.”
She didn’t believe him. “Does that mean we can maybe skip to the good part? I really don’t want to sleep alone again tonight.”
Caden let go of her hand, rubbing his palms on his knees. “I think tonight might go better for you if you spend it with just Isaiah.”
Tess frowned and started to shake her head, but Caden raised his hand to cut off her complaint.
“Just for tonight. Or—”
Isaiah’s deep voice answered for her. “No.”
Tess was relieved Isaiah was rejecting the idea as well. He stood, reaching out to draw Tess up from the couch. He gave her a quick, sweet kiss, and when they parted, he took a step back, gesturing for Caden to stand with them.
Caden blew out a hard breath as he did so. “I’m not bowing out to be an asshole. Given what I just told the two of you, I would think you’d understand my reasons. When you dreamed of this night, Tess, what did you imagine? Romance, roses, candlelight?”
That was certainly how her younger self used to fantasize. But with age came more mature tastes—not to mention erotic novels, sex toys, and internet porn. She’d had plenty of time to expand on the more innocent daydreams of an eighteen-year-old girl, letting those fantasies turn into something hotter and harder.
“I told you, Caden, I may look like a blushing innocent, but I’m not one. I’m a grown woman with sophisticated tastes, and I don’t scare easily.”
“God,” Isaiah murmured. “Every word out of your mouth turns me on even more.”
The Grand Master couldn’t have found two men who were more polar opposite than hers were. As open and funny as Isaiah was, Caden was equally sexy and brooding.
It was time to prove she was more than up to the challenge of Caden Anderson.
Tess reached up to wrap her arms around his neck.
She was surprised when he gripped her wrists firmly, holding them away from his body.
“I didn’t give you permission to tou—”
He stopped in the midst of his very deep-voiced and—holy hell—sexy-as-shit reprimand.
However, the second he caught himself, she saw something change in his face. The Dom flashed hot for a second, only to be shuttered away by a man who seemed horrified by his actions.
“Then give me permission,” she whispered.
His eyes narrowed, and she realized whatever she’d said must be butting against whatever was raging to get out inside him.