Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) (44 page)

"I think we'll leave it loose tonight." He
moved in front of her and smiled. "Yes. Absolutely beautiful. Stand
up so I can dress you."

Silent as she'd been since dinner, when he'd
informed her she wouldn't speak again until he told her she could,
she watched him take out a pale pink lace babydoll and a matching
g-string. His fingers grazed her neck and her sides as he put it on
her, causing tiny flames to lick her flesh. When he had her step
into the panties and began sliding them up her thighs, she tensed
and gasped.

Oh, god!
She whimpered as the soft
lace covered her.
I can't do this anymore. I can't!

"Silver, look at me." Dean cupped her cheeks
and held her gaze until she regained control. "There. That's
better." He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. "I won't let you
spoil this for yourself by taking the easy way out. Two days may
seem like a long time, but a week would be worse. Think about that
before you let yourself slip."

She nodded and his smile returned, broad and
full of the approval she craved. He was right. She
could
do
this.

You better.
She thought as she smiled
back at him.
You couldn't survive a week.

Dean brought her a pair of strappy white
sandals, slipped them on her feet, then covered her with a large
leather jacket. He was already dressed in leather pants and a snug
black t-shirt. They were both ready for the night.

Almost.

His toy bag sat by the door and he reached
inside it, pulling out a leather collar and matching wrist cuffs.
He held out the collar for her to see the words engraved in it.
'Master Dean's Dragonfly'.

"Tha—" Her eyes widened and she snapped her
lips shut. No talking.

"Nice save, sweetie." Dean grinned as he
buckled the collar around her throat. "And you're very
welcome."

Strangely enough, the collar and cuffs
steadied her, made her feel more controlled. Not by herself of
course, but being under Dean's control always felt safe. Even
though some small, irritated voice in her head objected to giving
in. Objected to being denied. If she'd been permitted to speak, she
would have cursed him out. Not having that option left her free to
go where he was taking her. Not just to the club, but to something
more. She didn't have to argue or fight.

He'd take her where she needed to be.

* * * *

Landon wiped his sweaty palms on his leathers
as he caught sight of Richter. The man had called him earlier to
let him know about the scene he wanted for Silver. It irked to have
another Dom telling him what to do—no, not just another Dom. He got
instructions from the Doms he scened with all the time, limits for
their subs, tips on sweet spots, all that good stuff. It never
bothered him, those Doms had the right to control the scenes.

Richter had the right to control the scene
with Silver. And
that
was the problem. Landon could have had
that right if he'd . . .

Drop it, Bower. You don't know that, not
really.
A large, coarse rope wound around his throat as he
watched Richter take Silver's coat and saw the worship in her eyes
as she stared up at him. Something was different about her. The way
she moved, slowly, as though in a trance. The way she seemed
comfortable wearing Richter's collar. The way she tilted her head
as he spoke, giving him all her attention.

She's submissive. You knew that.
He
took a deep breath and went back to setting up for the scene.
Richter had reserved the bondage frame for them—something Landon
didn't use often. It left the sub fully exposed, with eight
eyebolts lined up along the inside of the frame to secure wrists
and ankle cuffs, and one over head. A beautiful piece, really, in
polished mahogany, solid enough for him to do chin ups on the upper
bar without it even shaking—which he'd done earlier to make sure it
was safe.

Of course, safety wouldn't be a problem, he
knew what he was doing. The problem was Silver would likely bolt
the second she spotted him. And there was no way she'd agree to the
scene.

You don't know that. She might stay because
. . .

Because Richter would command it. And she'd
feel compelled to obey.

Tough shit. If she's not okay with it, it's
not happening.

As Richter approached with Silver a step
behind him, Landon's heart tripped a beat. His blood rushed
downwards. He hadn't gotten a good look at her outfit before, but
it was impossible not to notice—and react—to it now. Delicate lace
covered the gentle swell of her breasts, the almost translucent
fabric the same pale pink of the sweet pea flowers on the vines his
mother had grown when he was little. The lace parted beneath her
ribs and flowed down to the tops of her thighs. A tiny swatch of
cloth in the same color covered her pussy, though he could still
see the smooth flesh beneath it.

He brought his gaze up to her face to find
her eyes cast downwards. Her hair, the color of the winter sun,
fell forward, covering her cheeks.

For a second, only divine intervention could
have stopped him from taking her and giving her all the pleasure he
was capable of, but he leashed his urges and focused on
Richter.

Richter took her wrist and pulled her forward
until she stood right in front of Landon. "Eyes up, pet."

She looked up. Her bright green eyes
narrowed. She pressed her lips together.

"None of that, Dragonfly." Richter's tone was
gruff and he kept his gaze locked on Landon as he spoke. "Master
Landon is going to do a violet wand session with you. Thank him for
being so generous with his time."

The muscles in her jaw twitched.

Richter frowned at her. "Silver—"

"No." Landon held up a hand to Richter and
reached out to frame Silver's chin with the other. "We won't do
this unless you want to. I agreed to teach your Master."—Damn it,
he hated giving that title to another man—"But I can do so with
another sub. You can watch. I refuse to do anything that will make
you feel uncomfortable."

Her throat worked as she swallowed. She
glanced at Richter, then faced Landon. Her chin jutted up. "Thank
you for your time, Master Landon. And for your considerate offer."
Her lips curled slightly. "But I will do this for my
Master."

Not for you.
Landon nodded. "I guess
that's how it should be."

"You guess?" Her words snapped like the whip
in a scene across the room. Her eyes went wide. She looked at
Richter again. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me." Richter folded his
arms over his chest. "Bower is in charge of you now. I would
suggest not
forcing
him to punish you again though, my
dear."

Fuck that.
All his training, all his
experience, rejected the idea, but he'd rather be skinned than
punish her tonight. Still holding her chin, he moved in until their
bodies almost touched. "I don't need you to apologize. And feel
free to speak your mind. I won't punish you."

"I have nothing to say." She held out her
wrists. "Let's do this."

Submissive, yes. But her spirit hadn't gone
anywhere. He'd always thought his ideal sub would be docile,
perfectly obedient, but
that
sub wouldn't be Silver. No one
could be Silver.

And he didn't want her to be perfect. He
wanted
her
, just like this.

The edge of his lip hiked up as he took her
wrists and pulled her against him. She let out a cock-hardening
gasp.

"Yes, mon petit chaton." He slid his lips
along her jaw and whispered in her ear. "Let's."

* * * *

This, this was what all the preparations had
been for. Silver bit into her tongue to keep from whimpering as
Landon's body pressed against hers. Her nipples jutted out, poking
his solid chest, so hard he had to feel it. Her clit pulsed in a
tattoo of pure lust.

Lust. That all it was. Dean had gotten her so
worked up she'd do just about anyone.

But this was Landon. And damn it she missed
him holding her, laughing with her, just being close to her. She
inhaled and that familiar scent, sweat and some kind of soap that
smelled like spring, filled her. Her skin tingled and she
scowled.

All physical reactions. No big deal.
Just
another demonstration, like the one he did with that nasty couple.
Nothing special.

But one of those stupid little voices she'd
locked up after he'd proved how
very
much she meant to him
objected and she had to move away from Landon. Put some space
between them before that voice reminded her how much she needed to
mean something to him.

He didn't let her get far. His grip on her
wrists wasn't tight, but he held on when she tugged. "No, Silver.
There's only one way to stop this scene." His jaw hardened. "What's
your safeword?"

"Red," she said, rolling her eyes. "And I'll
use it if I have to."

"Good. And you may use yellow if you're
overwhelmed, but don't want to end the scene."

"Got it. Not that I'll have a reason to. Dean
is here and I trust
him
to keep me safe." She sneered at his
wince, but his reaction didn't satisfy her. She wanted to hurt him
like he'd hurt her. She wanted to slap him like she had when he'd
kissed her. She wanted to scream at him. But if she did that here
Dean would have to punish her. And that wouldn't help her . . .
situation. But one last little jab would feel damn good. "Please
get on with it, Master Landon. Unless you think another Dom could
do a better job with me than you can. Doesn't make a damn bit of
difference to me."

Since 'My master' has decided to let me
play with another man.
It almost hurt, but they'd discussed
this. Better Landon than Sebastian . . . maybe. Better anyone than
Landon really. But she trusted Dean's motives. And she would prove
to him that she didn't need anyone else. No matter who he marched
in front of her. Be it Landon or the whole damn team.
It doesn't
matter.

"Doesn't it?" Landon's lips twitched. "Fine.
Hey, Demyan! Nice of you to stop by. How you liking the place so
far?"

A masculine chuckle, right behind her. Then
Scott stepped up to her side. "I wasn't sure at first. Seen some
things that creeped me out a bit, but . . . ." His gaze ran over
her, stripping her, one inch of lace at a time. Looking at her like
men had since she'd gotten old enough to be worth looking at.
"Silver, my brain just went blank. You—"

"
Went
blank?" Silver let out a light,
airy laugh. "Scott, I'd be flattered if I didn't know there wasn't
much there to begin with."

Scott frowned and looked over at Dean who'd
propped his shoulder against the side of the frame. "Isn't she
supposed to respect me or something?"

"You're not a Dom here yet, Demyan." Dean
shrugged. "Besides, Bower is in charge of the scene and he's given
her permission to speak her mind." Dean's gaze fixed on her. "I'll
step in if she goes too far."

Aren't you fucking sweet?

"Speaking of becoming a Dom, Demyan, how
would you like to give me a hand strapping her to the frame?"
Landon took one of her wrists and held it out to Scott. "Clip her
wrist cuffs to the top bolts. I'll get her ankle cuffs."

Scott nodded and moved in, forcing her back
into the frame. He spoke low as he clipped one wrist. "You really
into all this kinky stuff, Silver? You know you and I could have
some fun without this."

"I—" She bit her lip and took him in, still
freaking hot, still the type of guy she'd have fucked in a
heartbeat back in Hollywood. No strings attached sex. She'd enjoyed
it before, why should now be any different? "I don't know."

"Let me help you decide." Scott whispered
before brushing his lips over hers. Through the corner of her eye,
she saw Dean push away from the frame. Landon moved to her other
side as Scott tasted her lips with his tongue and curved his hand
under her breast. "All you have to do is tell them you want
me."

Want you?
She blinked and assessed her
body with detached interest. She wasn't dead, so yeah, he turned
her on, but wanting him didn't seem to be enough.
I want a
drink. I want to get fucking stoned. And I want you. But I don't
need any of it.

"Scott . . . ." Her flesh craved touch as
though the heat within would split it open without. But
not
from just anyone. "Don't . . . ."

"Oh, sorry, Demyan. I forgot." Landon stepped
up behind Scott. "She needs to be naked."

No!
The blood left her face and washed
cold through her veins. As Scott reached around to undo the halter
top of the babydoll, her eyes sought Dean's. He mouthed
something.

'Yellow'

"Yellow! Damn you, Landon!" She jerked back
as far as her one trapped wrist would allow. "Yellow!"

Landon put his hand on Scott's shoulder.
"That means stop and renegotiate, man."

"Ah." Scott retreated. "Doesn't take a genius
to figure out why. I don't get to play, do I?"

"No," Dean said before Landon could answer.
Then he grinned. "But two of my waitresses have been eying you
since you walked in. They've been together for a long time, but
they like to use a man on occasion—you don't mind being used, do
you?"

Scott threw his head back and laughed. "You
need to ask? Just point me in the right direction, boss."

Silver did her best to ignore them. And
Landon, who stood in front of her, silently, waiting for
something.

Letting out a huff, she reached up to unclip
her wrist. "You said you weren't going to punish me."

"Yes. I did." Landon's tone told her nothing.
Leaving her only his words to go on. "That wasn't a punishment.
That was a lesson. Bad things can happen when you lie to your
Dom."

"You're not my Dom."

"Why did you lie to me, Silver?"