Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) (40 page)

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Authors: Bianca Sommerland

Tags: #romance, #hockey, #menage, #erotic romance, #bdsm, #sports romance, #bianca sommerland

BOOK: Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2)
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Lips pursed, she looked at his knee. Concern.
Very nice.

"An old sports injury which ended my military
career unfortunately." Her snort brought a roar of laughter from
deep in his chest. "Not surprised that I was in the military I
see."

She rolled her eyes.

"Bad girl." His eyes narrowed as he caught
her chin and held it in a firm grasp. "I've slacked in training
you. That. Ends. Now. I'm trying to be patient, pet, but stop
testing me."

There. His heart warmed as she lowered her
eyes, showing the first sign of submission in a long time. Too
long. He finally had her exactly where they both needed her to
be.

Caressing her cheek with his fingertips, he
moved away to open his bag and take out several 'toys'. Some she
would recognize. Others she wouldn't. He spread them out on the
table, then took a seat to let her take them in.

"We are going to try something—something I
don't do with most of the subs I've had because they know what they
like and it ruins the effect of the punishment." He reached out to
play with her hair, loving the way she struggled not to lean into
him as he did. Most women enjoyed having their hair petted and
stroked. Silver was no exception. "I've noticed something about
you. Much as you talk back and protest, once you understand the
reason behind a punishment, you accept it. Your body still
responds, but you're truly sorry after. And not just because you're
sore."

She glanced over her shoulder, eyes
glistening. She was already sorry.

For a moment, he wanted to toss the
punishment and just tell her all was forgiven. But that would teach
her nothing and she had to understand that forgiveness came with
accepting the punishment. She's been denied that with Bower and he
wondered if it wasn't a trigger. Delgado didn't seem the type to
let an infraction go after doling out punishments. And if he was
right, she needed to see Dean was always consistent with his
discipline and his love.

"This is what you're going to do." He sat
forward and held out his hand to the table. "You will either choose
one of the implements I've provided, or, if you'd like, I will use
my hand. Show me your choice. You will not speak. And once the
punishment starts, you will not be able to. I mentioned the
gag?"

Her tongue flicked over her top lip and she
looked at the bit gag that lay at the far end of the table.

"Yes. That's it. It should fit comfortably
and prevent noises loud enough to bring the police. I got the
leather straps in pink just for you."

She barely managed not to give him another
dirty look.

"Quick save, sweetheart. Now make your
choice."

It took her longer than he'd expected to
choose. She fingered the tawse, flicked the strands of the flogger,
and avoided the riding crop and his walking stick as though they
were living things with sharp teeth. The paddle drew her attention
for quite a bit. She traced the words embedded in the wood.
Brat.

Shifting on her knees to face him, she
wrapped her fingers around his wrist, brought his hand up to her
mouth, and kissed his knuckles.

"My hand?" He held back a grin at her nod.
For some reason her decision pleased him very much. He reached over
and picked up the bit gag. "Open wide, my love."

The soft silicone fit nicely in her mouth.
Her nose wrinkled as she got used to the sensation. The pale pink,
leather straps looked lovely against her pale cheeks. He did up the
buckle, then slid back a little and patted his thigh. She rose
gracefully, her expression . . . peaceful. As she laid herself over
his lap, he stroked her back, reminding her that, even though this
would hurt, he still cared about her. Deeply.

"Brace yourself, love."

So small. So fragile. But he didn't hold
back. Every strike sounded through the room, along with her silent
sobs. And it broke his heart just a little to carry out the
punishment.

She'll learn.
He reminded himself,
holding her as she repeated again and again, words obstructed by
the gag, but not too difficult to figure out, how sorry she was.
And so will you.

* * * *

Silver calmed and peeked up at Dean. And
damn, he didn't look like he had enjoyed that at all. Which was so
wrong. She was the one who'd screwed up. Again. Why should he have
to pay for it?

Drool spilled down her chin and she brought
her hand up to wipe some away. So gross. He didn't need to see her
like this, all wet and sniffily.

He stopped her and used his sleeve to dry her
face. "Shall we take it out for a little while, love?"

She blushed. Hell, she wanted it out just so
she could tell him how much she liked him calling her 'love'. But
she could only nod until he did.

And once the gag was gone, all she could
think about was getting that miserable look off his face. "I'm
sorry. Don't be upset anymore. I promise I'll never hit you
again."

His lips slanted into a dry smile. "Don't
make promises you can't keep."

Uck. I'm tempted to hit you now!
"Hey,
are you saying I can't be taught?"

"No. Not at all." His jaw clenched. "But I
haven't been teaching you, have I?"

Idiot!
Thankfully, she kept that one
to herself. "What was the first spanking then, or the orgasms you
refused to give me, or the flogger—need I go on? If I make you feel
like less of a Dom—"

"Oh, baby." He hugged her and kissed her
hair. "If anything, you make me feel like more of one. And you
remind me of all that I should be doing. But you're so new—"

"I can take it." She sat up and folded her
arms over her breasts. "I'm tougher than I look."

He threw back his head and laughed. Before
she could get insulted, he rasped out. "Then I'm in trouble."

She smirked and straddled him. After scraping
her teeth along his rough jaw, she whispered. "If all you're going
to do tonight is spank me, you're damn right you are."

He growled and lifted her up, dropping her on
the sofa and grabbing her wrists in one hand before she could
react. He reached between them and undid his pants. His hot,
throbbing dick pressed against her entrance. She thrust up to take
him in.

Wait!

"Wait!" She gasped, hating her stupid brain
for stopping him. But she'd forgotten something. "Condom. I'm
clean, I swear, but I might have missed my pill. I can't remember .
. . ."

"Ah." He gave her a sheepish smile and pushed
off her. Reached into his back pocket. "Let's not take any
chances."

His dick beckoned and she couldn't help
bending up to take it in her mouth. She watched his face as he
fumbled with the condom wrapper. He tasted better than candy, all
hot and salty. Come to think of it—she swallowed him and came up
slowly—she hadn't needed any sugar since . . . .

Dean. Here. Now.

"Stop." Dean tugged her hair and quickly
covered himself. "I don't know what that thought was, but you will
tell me." He shoved her onto the sofa, trapping her with his heavy
body and drawing her arms over her head again as he shoved deep
inside her. "Later."

Fast. Hard. Pounding into her without leaving
her a second to let her mind wonder. His dick speared her almost
painfully, but filled her so completely she didn't miss having a
functioning brain. Sweat slicked their bodies as they slid
together, her rising as he slammed in. She gasped as the first
climax erupted, spreading lava through her core and her veins, so
fucking hot. He forced her to bathe in the heat until it took her
again and again. She ignited and screamed. He covered her mouth and
grunted as he collapsed on top of her.

"Mmm." The inside of her eyelids flickered
red and black. She panted against his hand. Her back tightened and
a sharp pain robbed her of the lingering pleasure. "Mmmphff!"

Dean pushed off her. "Did I hurt you?"

"Oww!" She whimpered. Then giggled. "I have a
cramp in my back!"

Smart man. He didn't laugh at her. Gathering
her in his arms, he carried her to the bedroom, his tone gruff with
the strain to hold in his obvious amusement. "I know just the cure
for that."

He abandoned her in the bed for just a second
before returning with some oil from the fucking gods. She sighed as
his fingers worked her muscles loose.

"Damn it, Dean."
Say it! Just say it!
"I love you."

He went still. Then bent down to kiss the
small of her back. "Silver." He paused and kissed her again before
saying, very quietly. "I love you too."

 

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

Half a day to lounge around and enjoy one
another. To whisper those sweet words a few more times as their
eyes locked and the urge overwhelmed them. For the first time Dean
was able to look into Silver's eyes, the same golden shade as her
sister's without the contacts, and see her come out of hiding
without any force involved. His heart sputtered as he took her in,
this young, beautiful woman so obviously in love. Glowing, almost
shy with the emotions coming off her in waves. He hadn't really
noticed before how quickly she'd rushed to primp herself when she
got out of bed every other time she woke up in his bed. But now
that she hadn't, now that she lounged around in nothing but his
t-shirt and boxers, with her hair tangled and her feet bare, all he
could think was 'I want more of
this.
'

But he'd bought them all the time he could.
And it was ruined.

"Daddy—" Silver shook her head and slid to
the other side of the sofa when Dean put his hand on her shoulder
to comfort her. Hugging her knees to her chest, she curled into
herself like a small, wounded animal. "Did you see the way he
handled the puck? Acquiring Scott wasn't stupid—no, I'm not arguing
with you. Please don't get upset Daddy. Your heart . . . ."

She winced and blinked fast. Near tears.
Enough was enough.

"Miss Delgado, please tell your father I'd
like to speak with him when you're done." He did his best to keep
his anger out of his tone, but by the way Silver's eyes widened,
he'd failed. As she say goodbye and passed him the phone, he laid
his hand over hers and stroked her knuckles with his thumb.
Hopefully she'd understand that he wasn't angry with her.

"So, you're fucking her."

The crudeness of Delgado's words completely
threw Dean off. He gritted his teeth and inhaled very very slowly.
"Excuse me, sir? I think I must have heard you wrong."

"I'm not an idiot, Dean. Don't treat me like
one." Delgado rasped in a labored breath. "My daughter obviously
has no business sense, but she knows how to work a man. She'll ruin
this team if you let her."

"I find that hard to believe, Anthony." A
cold smile slashed across his lips. "She knows people, and that
knowledge has come in handy. Take Demyan for example. I'm sure
you'd agree that he turned out to be a better acquisition than
either of us expected."

"Are we speaking of the man who just received
a ten game suspension for leaving the bench and assaulting another
player?"

"He was defending a teammate! Surely you
remember how important that is?"

"And the goalie? We've lost him for five
games because of his reckless behavior."

And how the hell is that Silver's
fault?
"I chose the goaltender. And signed him
after
discussing it with you at your insistence. I don't believe it was a
mistake, but if it was, the blame rests on my shoulders."

"Damn it, Richter!" Delgado gasped and
wheezed. The way he switched from Dean's first name to last made it
seem as though he was trying to come at him from another angle. His
next words confirmed it. "You know I respect you. After the mess
with Stanton last year—I could have fired you. But the man fooled
us all. I know my daughter. She'll give you anything you want to
get her own way. You should ask her how she got her first A in high
school. I'm positive you'll be as disgusted as I was."

"With all due respect, sir, the time your
daughter spent on her own in Hollywood changed her a great deal.
Perhaps you don't know her as well as you think."

Silver's head shot up. She stared at him,
either shocked that he'd contradicted her father, or surprised that
Dean thought she'd changed. He'd find out which—even if it took
another interrogation.
After
he was done with this
nonsense.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Delgado
wheezed again, then moaned. "This is exhausting. Tell Silver I will
call her tomorrow. And she better pick up."

The dial tone sounded. Dean put his phone in
his pocket and slouched back into the sofa. He patted his thigh.
"Come here, love."

She pursed her lips, sighed, then stretched
out and rested her head on his thigh. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"He liked you.
Respected
you." She
pressed her face into his pants and mumbled. "He won't
anymore."

"I liked and respected Paul Stanton," Dean
said as he smoothed her hair away from her face. "I was wrong about
him. Your father was wrong about me. And
is
wrong about
you."

"Whatever."

He fisted his hand in her hair. "Speaking of
respect, 'Whatever' never qualifies as a respectful response to
your Dom. I'd like a 'Yes, Sir.' in this instance."

Snorting out a laugh, she turned to look up
at him. "You don't get automatic 'Yes Sirs' when we're discussing
business or my family. Haven't you learned that yet, you dumb
ape?"

Laughing at naughty little subs taught them
nothing. But he had a hard time containing his amusement. "Cheeky
brat. I believe we've discussed you calling me names?"

"Yep. You love it."

Well, at least she didn't seem on the verge
of tears anymore. Doing what he was about to do to her when she was
still upset would be unethical. He stood and loomed over her,
letting his tone drop to the one she understood on a baser level.
"I think punishments will become part of our daily routine—at least
until you learn how to behave yourself."

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