THE world was ending.
It hurt to breathe. How could it hurt to breathe? It was a natural bodily function but there was nothing natural about the burning sensation creeping from her lips, back along her gums and tongue and the roof of her mouth. The back of her throat and all the way down to her stomach.
A stomach, she thought sickly, currently twisting and rolling with the mother lode of all sickness. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t shift enough onto her side to make sure she didn’t choke when the flood came.
And, oh shit, it was coming.
Saliva filled her mouth, almost too fast to swallow it back in a ridiculous effort not to give in to the pain now gripping her belly. She whimpered desperately and tried to squint her eyes open, but even the barest suggestion of light brought agony.
“She’s awake!”
“Shit, roll her! Get the bucket under her before—”
Familiar voices, comforting noises. She wasn’t alone. Even as her muscles contracted and the first lurching surge ripped through her, someone pushed her, rolled her quickly so she was almost face-down on what she presumed was a bed. Their weight and warmth stayed behind her, hands gathered her hair away from the firing range.
“Help me,” she croaked brokenly as the first wave of sickness broke free. Then there was no time for talking, for pleading, even for painful breathing. Her world became stomach acid, snot, and tears, racking heaves that destroyed her.
“We’ve got you, sweetheart.” Tess’ hands were capable and quick, wiping Caera’s face with a cold cloth and washing it out as the next volley hit. “This is going to be rough, but we’re all here. We’re all here, Caera. Just get through this, okay?”
By the end, she was too weak to do or say anything. She couldn’t protest when they turned her onto her back and propped her up slightly with a couple soft pillows. Even the refreshingly cold touch of the wet cloth did nothing but irritate her nerve endings, so heated she couldn’t bear anything against her skin.
What the hell had she ever done—in this life or ones previous, because God knew she’d lead an uninteresting life up until only a few months ago—to deserve this? Committed genocide, fratricide, drowned a litter of puppies? What infraction meant she had to suffer this?
“Let her go back to sleep if that’s what she needs,” Mac’s deep voice murmured, rumbling through her head like a—ha ha—Mack Truck. “Her body obviously requires it. She’s had a rough ride but she’s thrown up the crap. Hopefully now she can rest and recover.”
“She’s not finished throwing up whatever shit Annabelle gave her,” Dee warned mildly. “Another ten, fifteen and we’ll go for round two.”
“Seriously? After that?”
Caera found herself agreeing with the incredulity of Mac’s tone. She couldn’t possibly do that again; her stomach muscles were like water, they didn’t have the strength to force anything else out. She groaned at the thought. “Where am I?”
“Home, sweetheart. You’re home now, back at the House,” Mac told her.
“Here, sweetheart.” Something plastic and round touched her lips. She latched on, sucking gratefully at the warm, sweet liquid seeping from the end as Dee held the cup steady. “Just slowly. Your stomach won’t like it if you gulp it.”
She knew she should listen, knew she should pay heed to sage advice, but dehydration and the sweet sugar rush was too much. It soothed the soreness, calmed the burn.
The straw was taken away from her and she groped blindly for it, her body crying for the sustenance it gave.
“Enough, Caera,” Dee said sternly. “Just lie back and let that settle for now. You can have more if what you’ve had stays—”
Her belly twisted. It formed a horrid, vicious knot. Her mouth filled again, saliva pooling rapidly as her chest heaved with the effort of holding back.
“—down,” Dee finished and cursed ripely. She moved quickly, shoving Caera upright and bending her over the bucket Tess rammed between Caera’s knees. “It’s going to be a long fucking day. Mac, have you checked on Saul?”
“He’s groggy, in and out of it right now. Another hour or so and he’ll be back to his usual self.”
Caera caught movement from the corner of her eye and watched him edge closer. She hated throwing up. It was an undignified and embarrassing process—a human one, yes, but embarrassing nonetheless—but to have an audience while doing so turned the entire debacle into mortification.
“Saul.” Caera sobbed the word between purges.
“He’ll be here soon, Caera. He’s a little indisposed himself right now,” Mac assured her. “As soon as he can be useful, I’ll have him here in a shot.”
Caera winced at the word shot. That’s how all this shit had started, she remembered vaguely. She’d drank something thick and green and lethal, and now she was paying dearly for her stupidity. She tried to keep that thought in mind as she retched up her stomach.
Did Saul drink one of those things too? Was he suffering in the same world of hurt? She hoped not. Thinking of him in pain made her heart cringe.
Exhausted, she fell back against the pillows. The murmurs of comfort passed over her head, insignificant. She moaned when the cold cloth returned and then simply let fatigue carry her away.
* * * *
“Where the fuck is she, Mac?”
“Glad to see you’ve regained your ability to form a sentence other than ‘I don’t know what to do’,” Mac said easily as he closed the door to Saul’s room behind him. He crossed the room like a lion, all power and full of the knowledge he owned the room.
Saul envied him that knowledge. He admired what Mac had built, the empire he ruled, but God knew he didn’t have any inclination to be responsible for what Mac held in his hands.
“Caera, Mac. Where’s Caera?”
“Safe.” Mac picked up a chair one-handed and set it beside the bed where Saul struggled to get up. He sat, crossed his arms. “She’s sick, she’s sorry, and she’s gone back to sleep. Dee’s hopeful she’s thrown all the crap up now after four marathon vomiting sessions but we won’t know for sure until she wakes again.”
He tried to shake off the remnants of whatever Dee had slipped him, but the edges of reality were still blurred. He tossed back the covers and discovered, to his chagrin, he was naked. Drugged and naked, the combination made him feel exceptionally vulnerable. “Jesus, can’t a guy get to wear boxers when he’s knocked unconscious?”
“Relax, Saul, no females saw you at your finest.”
“I just want to see Caera.”
“When you’re ready,” Mac replied in that infuriatingly calm way of his. He smirked and gestured to Saul’s state of undress. “Unless you want to run the gauntlet in your current condition?”
“I would if you’d tell me where she is.” Frustrated, Saul tried to swing his legs out of bed but found they were still weak. “What the hell did that woman give me?”
Mac smirked. “Resourceful woman, our Dee. She put a tranquilizer in the Scotch.”
“How did she get hold of tranquilizers?”
“Ways and means, my friend, ways and means. Now, we have something more important to discuss if you’re feeling up to it.” Mac’s face became serious, his eyes darkening.
Saul wanted to know more about Deanna’s ways and means. He thought only licensed professionals were allowed to handle drugs like that. A chat with the Domme was in order, he decided. “What could be so important you’re willing to talk about it when I’m naked?”
Mac lifted an eyebrow. “Full of questions, aren’t you?”
“Mac.”
“Annabelle.”
Saul stiffened, rage building in his veins at just the mention of her name. His hands clenched into fists; with the least provocation, he’d pummel the shit out of the first handiest target. “That bitch.”
“Figured you’d feel that way. I want to know what you want me to do with her.”
“Do with her?” Saul snarled the words. He knew what he wanted to do with the vicious slut, and all of them ended with her dead and him in prison for murder. “Oh, I have plenty of fucking ideas of what to do with her, Mac. Want me to share them?”
“Realistically, Saul. Hanging the lass by her fingernails and laying into her with a bullwhip isn’t an option.”
“Why not?” Saul snapped. “She could have killed Caera.”
“Could have,” Mac agreed amiably, rubbing a hand over his chin. He sat a bit straighter and directed his gaze onto Saul’s. “But she didn’t. Before you get wound up and clock me,” he added slowly, “that doesn’t mean I don’t think she needs to be held accountable for her actions.”
Furious, Saul hauled himself up to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. Through sheer force of will, he pushed to his feet, barely managing to keep his legs under him. “Held accountable? What the actual fuck? You gonna slap her on the wrist and call her a naughty girl, Mac?”
“Calm down,” his friend ordered.
“Don’t tell me to calm down. That bitch does not get to walk away from this, not when Caera’s paid the price.” He just needed to find his pants and he’d find his girl himself.
Mac shook his head and got to his feet. There were only a couple inches between them, not much in weight and build. But Saul remained at a disadvantage, swaying lightly, one hand gripping the bedpost.
When Mac shoved him, one finger poked hard into a bare chest, Saul couldn’t save himself. He toppled back onto the bed and simply lay there, winded and livid.
“I’m well aware what price has been paid and by whom,” Mac growled. “We have an idea, one you and Caera need to think over before we implement it. If you put a collar on that rage you’ve got going, give it a good yank, and listen to what I have to say rather than taking my head off, we can get this shit sorted the fuck out!” He’d gone from growling to shouting, his own fury rattling the bars of the cage.
“You wouldn’t be so fucking calm if it had been Tess laying on that floor!” Saul fired back, struggling to push back up to a sitting position.
“That girl means as much to me as she does to you. Don’t think I’m not riled just because I’m not ripping Annabelle to pieces. I’m fucking sick this happened. It makes me cold to the bone thinking of what could have happened to that lass.” Mac sank back into the chair, scrubbed his face wearily. “I hired her, Saul. Annabelle. I hired her when Whip first opened and she’s worked her way from waitress to being one of my best tenders.
“I sent Caera in there to investigate Craig, as you know. Looking at the evidence now, I owe him a big fucking apology. I’ve been in touch with the girls who’ve left in the last few weeks. Once I’d said Annabelle had been fired, they all spilled. All of them have asked for their jobs back.”
“She was responsible for the staff leaving.”
Mac nodded. “Apparently Annabelle became possessive over Craig, began threatening the other female tenders with physical harm. Got them so scared they didn’t dare report her to either me or Craig, or the authorities. They just handed in their notice and ran.”
“Caera’s never met Craig,” Saul said slowly, his addled brain trying to put pieces together. “Why would Annabelle target Caera so quickly, escalate to violence straight off the bat, when the object of her obsession wouldn’t be able to pick Caera out of a lineup?”
“Because Annabelle saw you first, and her obsession flipped from Craig to you. Craig’s unattached; you’re not. And we ended up putting your attachment right in Annabelle’s crosshairs.”
“Crazy bitch,” Saul muttered.
“Yeah, she’s definitely off the charts.”
Calmer, Saul blew out a heavy breath. “So what do you suggest?”
With a wicked grin that lifted some of Saul’s despair, Mac proceeded to explain the plan of action they were putting in place. By the time he’d finished, Saul was ready to set things into motion.
* * * *
Three days later, Caera finally came back to herself. It galled her, deeply, to have spent so much time being treated like an invalid, incapable of lifting a glass to her own mouth. She felt weak and lightheaded, and realized that this was how she’d felt through the years when sleep eluded her and her appetite failed monstrously.
She’d slept, and slept, and slept. She remembered very little of the past seventy-two hours other than hands touching her, checking her pulse or peeling her eyelids back, making her drink or take a pill. She knew Saul had come to her when she’d woken screaming, and had eventually gone back to dozing when he’d crawled into bed with her, gathered her up and simply held her, murmuring stupidities until she drifted.
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
She blinked up at Deanna. The woman had starred in some of her broken dreams, not as the Domme she’d come to know but as a caring, gentle mother. “I’ve lost three days, Dee. What’s so good about this morning?”
Dee smiled. “Today, we’re getting rid of the catheter and carting you off for a hot shower, followed by a lovely, light meal. If you behave, you can sit in the garden with Saul for an hour.”
Caera frowned. Catheter? What catheter? Her hand crept under the duvet, down over warmed skin to between her legs. Naked, why did she always end up naked? Her fingers touched plastic, a slender column leading from her most private place. She gasped, wondering who the hell had been down there while she’d been unconscious.
“Calliope,” Dee murmured, obviously reading her perfectly.
She wanted to be sick, yet couldn’t stand the idea of going through that again. Her stomach felt as though it had gone sixty rounds with a kangaroo and lost. “Get it out. Get it out now.”
“When we’re ready,” Dee agreed and came to sit on the edge of the bed. “Try to take it out yourself and I’ll tie your hands to the headboard. It’s not something you can just rip out.”
“Yes, yes, it is!”
“Relax, Caera. As soon as Tess comes, we’ll remove it. Now, how do you feel?”
Like I want to scream before my chest implodes, Caera thought wildly, hands scrabbling at the tube. She whined when Dee drew the covers down and captured her hands. Now that she knew it was there, the damn thing taunted her. She didn’t want to play the conversation game.
“Warm water, dry towel, and a washcloth,” Tess said in a cheery voice as she swept into the room with a laden tray. She set it beside the bed and bent to kiss Caera’s forehead softly. “Saul’s on his way. I’m so glad you’re back with us, we were worried. I’ll see you in a little while.”
“Where are you going?” Caera found herself in desperate need of a hand to hold. She hated doctors with fanaticism, to the point she couldn’t bear to make the appointment with a gynecologist for a routine checkup.
“I don’t do very well with”—Tess gestured toward the tray—“medical stuff. I have a phobia and panic attacks. It’s really embarrassing.”
Dee clucked her tongue. “The pair of you, hold hands and close your eyes. Never known a pair like you. You,” she said to Tess, “I can understand. But you,” she addressed Caera, “where does your fear come from?”
“Being tested like a lab rat for years.” Caera shuddered at the memory.
“I think you can spend some time in the medical room with me,” Dee decided with a small smile. “Even little miss iatrophobe here forgets herself when we play in there.”
Caera shuddered. Saul had taken her in there once and the only thing she’d gained was a case of cold sweats. She avoided that room at all costs. “Thanks but…no.”
Dee just kept smiling. “We’ll see.”
Oh God, the day just got worse. Caera wriggled uncomfortably under Deanna’s amused gaze. “Can you please just get that thing out of me? I think it’s working its way to my brain.”
“Lay back, relax, and think of Saul,” Dee advised.
Caera screwed her eyes closed. She heard water slosh, drip back into water, and assumed Dee was wetting the cloth. She arched a little when it pressed, hot and soothing, over her sex. “Please hurry up. Please hurry up.”
“Okay, here we go.”
She hissed out a breath at the uncomfortable sensation creeping between her thighs. Pressure popped and immediately the warm cloth was there to soothe the sting. “Don’t ever put one of those things inside me again. Hard limit!”
“Medical emergency trumps hard limits,” Dee retorted.
“Does not!”
“Does too,” Tess said mournfully, squeezing Caera’s hand supportively. “Trust me, you won’t win this argument. Not when you’ve got another two Doms to back this one up.”
That capped her anger a little. She’d had her squabbles with Saul—on a non-submissive level—but had never gone head-to-head with him when he had his Dominant half in control. After all, what was the point? She was supposed to submit to him. His Dominant half both aroused and scared her; sometimes she thought she would cut herself on the edge of his power.
Arguing with three of those powers? She’d likely dissolve into a sniveling mass of apologies and pass clean out. Mac intimidated her; she hadn’t forgotten she was due another ‘meeting’ with him to acclimate herself to being with another Dom—she might not know how much of the BDSM world worked, but she wasn’t stupid. Even if Mac hadn’t explained it, she would have figured it out.
And Dee? Well, the woman literally frightened the pants off Caera. Even now, with Dee’s hands tending to the mess between Caera’s thighs so gently, Caera knew those hands were capable of so much more. Loving caresses that made her feel cherished, wicked touches that could make Caera’s muscles cramp with pleasure so acute, she couldn’t make a sound. And she’d heard rumors through the house that the Domme was just as skilled at dealing out pain in the same measure as orgasms.
Dee had not made a secret of the fact she wanted to play with Caera.
“Don’t upset the girl, Tess. She’s had a rough enough few days as it is.” Dee finished her tending and gave Caera a wink. “I’m very surprised Saul hasn’t shaved you yet.”
She cleared her throat, noting the way Dee’s gaze dropped down to her sex and lingered longingly. “He’s suggested it a couple of times. I said no.”
“Really? How so?”
Caera averted her eyes and stared at the ceiling. “What if I cut it off?”
Female laughter exploded. Dee patted her thigh as Tess enveloped her in a hug. There was no ridicule, and Caera felt accepted in a way, brought deeper into the arms of the women she’d become good friends with. When laughter died down to chuckles and a few humorous tears were wiped away, it was Tess who answered Caera’s concern.
“We had this conversation the night you first had sex with Saul. Maybe it’s time to address it properly. Shaving is a personal preference. It’s something you can do yourself, although you probably run a higher risk of nicking something you’ll really wish you hadn’t.” A memory flickered over Tess’ face but it was gone too quickly to read. “If you’re considering having a clit piercing, try shaving first. The level of arousal with both can be extreme. I wanted nothing more than to fuck Mac for a week straight after Dee pierced me.”
Dee gave her an arch look. “You want nothing more than to fuck Mac, period. Sometimes I think it’s a miracle the two of you aren’t fused together.”
Tess grinned. “Can’t argue with that.”
“Oh, God.” Caera dropped her head into her hands. “What have I started?”
“Let’s get you into the shower instead of filling your head with ideas,” Dee said, rising from the bed. “Someone’s in enough bother with her Dom for doing so already.”
“Mac’s not that mad about the double penetration idea,” Tess argued. “He’s actually looking forward to it, I think. As long as Caera’s readier than I was. We rushed into it, it cost us, and we made things right. He just wants to take small steps with Caera.”
Hands cupped her elbows, helped her to the edge of the bed. Her legs felt like water as her friends slipped arms around her waist and lifted her to her feet, holding her weight as she dropped. “I want to do it.”
“And so you shall, as Saul did promise you anything,” Dee said smoothly as they tottered toward the bathroom. “I think the boys would have preferred you come up with that particular scene by yourself, rather than a certain little miss planting it in your head.”
Tess shrugged. “I took the punishment spanking.”
“Like a champ.”
They reached the bathroom, Dee and Tess still bickering while Caera concentrated on setting one foot precariously in front of the other. She sat without ceremony on the toilet lid as the women bustled around setting the water going and sorting through shower gels and shampoos.
The shower was huge, big enough for all three of them plus Mac and Saul. Six shower heads pumped steaming water from above, while more were set into the walls at a gentle, arching angle. Steam rose quickly, drifting away into vents in the ceiling.
Fingers snapped in front of her face. “Caera?”
“Hmm?” She blinked out of her daydream, imagining all that hot water running over and cleansing her of the dirty feeling scratching beneath her skin. “What, sorry?”
Her friends were nearly naked. It took a moment for her to get her head around her closest friends in their underwear. Not that they didn’t look good, she thought as her eyes dropped to the floor, but she didn’t do this kind of bonding. In the heat of passion, when her senses clouded with endorphins, she could forget her prudish aversions. But now, when her faculties were all in order, shy embarrassment swallowed her whole.
Dee’s body was showcased in a midnight-blue lace bodysuit, covering just about everything and yet leaving nothing to the imagination. She had quite possibly the longest legs Caera had ever seen, toned and slim and perfect. The muscles in her arms were slightly more defined, still feminine but indicative of her upper body strength. The woman was built to be a Domme.
Tess, on the other hand, obviously liked to tease Mac visually when she wasn’t rubbing herself against him. She wore blood red—both her bra and panties. They had a sheen to them that Caera thought must be silk.
“W-what are you doing?” she asked as they hauled her up and into the shower. Water hit her from all sides, hot shards of liquid glass beating against her skin. She stiffened and then relaxed into the stream, letting the heat sink into her bones.
“Sorting you out. You can hardly stand by yourself,” Dee chided, reaching for a bottle and pouring creamy white goo into her palms before slicking it all over Caera’s shoulders, down her arms. “Just stand and let us take care of you, sweetheart. You deserve a little TLC after the last few days.”
Caera couldn’t argue. Even when Dee’s fingers kneaded raspberry-scented shower stuff down her arms and then back up to her collarbone and over the washboard of her chest. She didn’t want to know what Dee thought of her skinny body, the still-visible protrusions of bones in some places.
She jumped when another pair of hands got to work on her shoulders from behind. Tess’ fingers dug deep into knotted muscles, worked down her back steadily. “Oh, God.”
“No sex noises when I’m restraining myself from having you,” Dee murmured in her ear, her touch clinical and brief.
She stood stock-still, giving in to the tender loving care Dee thought she needed. After a few minutes, she permitted herself to relax. They were both good with their hands, methodical and efficient. Sex wasn’t a part of this process; this was family taking care of family.
Tess poured shampoo on Caera’s head, used talented fingers to work it into a lather, and then kneaded her scalp gently. Caera’s eyes drifted closed, the last remnants of tension washing down the drain with the water.
Something soft brushed between her legs, gentle and firm.
It didn’t linger.
“Rinse time,” Tess hummed cheerfully.
They started all over again, this time making sure she was bubble-free and then the water shut off and she was bundled into a towel. Within minutes, she was dried off and being tucked into a fluffy purple robe, softer than the angora cushions she’d once had at her old apartment.
Her hair was carefully brushed, making it look like finely spun gold when she glanced in the mirror above the sink. A toothbrush, preloaded with paste, was pressed into her hand.
It sounded stupid, especially to her, but after all the attention, all she wanted to do was sleep. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate…all this.”
“No problem.” Tess kept humming as she stripped off her wet underwear and toweled herself off.
“Our pleasure,” Dee assured her, mirroring Tess’ actions.
Caera blinked dazedly, watching the two women in the mirror as she brushed her teeth on autopilot. Dee had better grace, an elegance she couldn’t disguise, but Tess’ body language had grown more confident in the weeks Caera had known her.
By the time she’d rinsed and spit, her friends were dressed and waiting for her, looking only slightly damp. “Can I go back to bed now?”
“Not yet, sweetheart. The house staff are cleaning up your room, and we’re going to take you for something to eat before you lose any more weight.” Dee’s arm slipped around her waist, squeezed lightly.
“I don’t really feel like eating anything…”
“Maybe not, but you need to. How on earth you haven’t got ulcers, I don’t know.”
She disliked feeling frail, as though a stiff breeze could float her off her feet. Her body recoiled in disgust at the mere thought of food. She became one with the air around her, propelled along the hallway by Deanna’s guiding hand.
“Jesus, she looks wiped out.” Saul’s voice broke through her blissful exhaustion as they stepped into Mac’s expansive living room. He rose from his seat on the sofa, worry etched into his fallen angel’s face. “Should she be out of bed?”
“She’s fatigued, she’ll be fine. She needs something in her belly other than warm sugar water.” Dee stepped aside and let Saul gather Caera up in his arms. “Get her settled on there,” she ordered with a quick gesture at the sofa. “Tess and I will go find something in the kitchen.”
Home. Caera sighed and nuzzled her face against the warmth of Saul’s chest, smiling quietly at the smooth cotton beneath her cheek. He smelled like the depths of a mossy forest when rain had fallen; she adored his scent. “Saul.”
“You scared the shit out of me.” His voice rumbled through her entire body. If she hadn’t been tired beyond the bone, she suspected her libido might have kick-started into action. “I thought you were dead.”
There was no energy left to soothe the ragged edges of his torment. She tried to cling to him as he knelt by the sofa, laying her down as though her body was crafted from the most fragile of crystal. “Not dead. Just stupid.”
“Yes, well. That’s a discussion for another time.” He brushed her damp hair away from her forehead, pressed his lips tenderly to the skin he exposed. “Don’t ever do that to me again, Caera.”
“She was a bitch,” she muttered with a frown. “Big bully.”
Something flashed in his gaze, a streak of hot emotion through the darkness of his eyes. “She will be dealt with. Mac’s seeing to it.”
She nodded, too tired to keep her eyes open. “Don’t leave me?”
“I’ll never leave you, sweetheart. You belong to me.”