Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) (53 page)

"Asher?" His calm was sizzling. "Did he put
you up to this?"

"He told me about Ford. That he was
Kingsley's son and was probably using Jami. But that's over. It's
over." She straightened and took a step back. "I fucked up and I'm
sorry. Let me make it up to you."

"Make it up to me? How could anything—" He
caught Landon shaking his head and cut himself off. Going on and on
about this wouldn't change anything. She was here. Safe. And she
knew she'd made a mistake. That was enough for him, but not for
her.

Part of him was tempted to tell her to go so
he could process it all, but that would make her feel like she
couldn't be forgiven. And as much as he hated punishing her—no,
this time, he wouldn't. This time he would feel like the punishment
just might discourage her from doing anything so foolish every
again.

"Has Master Landon decided on a fitting
punishment?"

She screwed up her face and shuffled her Mary
Jane's. "He bought this outfit for us to have fun together. He made
me wear it to come here—only the janitor saw me, but that was bad
enough. And he said . . . ." She glanced at Landon and he nodded.
"Five swats from each of you, every day for a week, with any
implement you choose, should teach me a 'lesson'."

Ah, so the punishment won't ruin the
scene. I like that idea.
Of course, there was a chance that the
scene itself would lessen the impact of the punishment, but one
look at Silver dashed those concerns. She wouldn't forget why she
was getting 'spanked'. Landon had mentioned an 'implement' to her,
so this wouldn't be an intimate hand wacking that could be
misconstrued.

Very well. Ten to show her they meant it, and
then some fun. Which meant, after giving her his five, and
reminding her why she needed them, he couldn't bring it up again.
Until the next five. But in a way, that worked for him. It was
straightforward. And once it was over, they could all move on.

"All right, well since Master Landon was
given the information first, I think it's only fair that I should
make the first marks on that pretty ass." He opened his desk drawer
and pulled out a long wooden ruler. "I think this fits our little
scenario, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir." She pressed her lips together,
hiding a smile. "This is going to hurt, isn't it?"

"Yes it is."

"Am I allowed to call you names?"

It was very very hard not to laugh.
Impertinent little brat.
"I wouldn't suggest it. Hands on
the desk."

She slapped her hands on the desk and wiggled
her butt. "I'm ready."

"Good." He flipped her skirt up and cracked
the ruler over her ass hard enough to draw an automatic yelp. A
nice red welt crossed her pale cheeks.
Perfect.
"Don't
bother counting yet, that was just for warm up."

"You mother—"

Crack.

"And so was that."

* * * *

I want to go down to the rink and plant my
ass on the ice.
Silver shifted from knee to knee, unable to sit
fully back on her heels because her butt stung like iodine on
skinned flesh. She couldn't get comfortable. Dean had gotten in a
few extra—
the bastard—
and Landon had kept his strikes to the
under curve of her ass.
That man is positively fucking
evil.

"How are you feeling, Silver?" Landon leaned
his hip on the edge of the desk, close to her side, and reached
down to tuck her hair behind her ear. "We can stop now. All you
have to do is ask."

She kept her head down, more out of
self-preservation than anything else. Dean
might
let her get
away with giving him her sharpest fuck-you look, but Landon
certainly wouldn't. They had given her the choice to snuggle and
then carry on with the day, or prove to them that she didn't hurt
to bad to play.

As if kneeling for ten minutes proves
anything.
"I don't need to stop, Sir."

"Is there a reason you won't look at me?"

"No, Sir." She pressed her lips together and
hung her head until her chin almost touched her chest. If it
wouldn't get her another few whacks, she'd have a few choice words
for him. Why though? Not the punishment. Not even the pain. For
some reason, she just felt irritated and had to fight not to lash
out. Her nostrils flared as Landon studied her quietly. Her nails
bit into her palms as Dean watched them both.

"Is there something you'd like to say,
Silver?" Dean rested his elbows on his knees and bent forward from
his office chair. "Are you uncomfortable?"

"Aren't I supposed to be?"
Why are you
both staring at me?
The silence changed and she glanced up,
catching herself at Dean's hard look. "Sir. No, I'm not
comfortable, Sir."

"Better. Do you need to use your
safeword?"

For the pain? No way. But if something
doesn't happen soon . . .
"No,
Sir.
I'm perfectly
fine."

"That's good," Landon said.

"Yes." Dean nodded and sat back. "Very
good."

Screw this.
She shot to her feet and
slammed her fists into her hips. "You know what, I don't know what
kind of game you two are playing, but I'm fucking done. You're
both—"

Landon's hand covered her mouth. "That's
enough. Let's not earn ourself another punishment." His breath
rasped into her hair as he pulled her back against his hard chest.
"I stopped while I was still having fun."

She shivered and peeked at Dean. The bastard
folded his arms behind his head and smiled at her.

Her eyes narrowed. "Punishments aren't
supposed to be fun."

"For you." Landon fisted his hand in her hair
and jerked it to one side. He bit her earlobe, then let out a deep,
spine chilling laugh. "I like marking your flesh, Silver. Does that
scare you?"

"Landon, I don't –"

"Dean will be teaching me how to use a whip
soon. Who do you think I'll be practicing on?"

Her core clenched even as she trembled like a
kitten just brought in from the cold. The reaction confused the
hell out of her. Landon was scaring her, but . . . but not in a way
that made her want to get away from him. More the way a horror
movie scared her. Freaked even though she was safe, peeking out at
the danger between her fingers.

"Would you let me whip you, mignonne?"

A quick breath. She held it in, closed her
eyes. And nodded.

"But it scares you?"

"Yes."

"Then why would you want to do it?"

She frowned. That was a weird question. "The
same reason I want to—no,
need
to—" That got her a smile of
approval from Dean which warmed her, calmed her. She stopped
shaking. "Do any of this. It excites me. And . . . and part of me
needs to do it for you. It feels good when I can give you something
that makes you happy."

"Thank you. I appreciate your honesty."
Landon kissed the hollow behind her ear. "That makes me happy. I
need your submission too, but only if it's real. If you're really
not feeling it, then don't pretend. Make me earn it."

"You'll spank me or—"

"Not always. Sometimes I'll find other ways
to show you who's in control." He used her hair to expose her
throat and grazed his teeth along the length. "Like I am now."

Her pulse quickened. For a split second, she
felt ready to submit for real, to melt into him and whisper Sir in
a way that meant something. But her hands were still free. Hitting
him was out of the question, but prying at his fingers in her hair
wasn't breaking any rules. She worked her fingers into his hand and
twisted her body away from his.

His arm barred across her belly and air
whooshed out of her. "Do I need to tie you?"

Energy buzzed in her veins as she smiled
through her teeth. "If it pleases you, Sir."

"But you won't hold still."

Trick question?
Well, he hadn't
'commanded' it. "No, Sir."

"It'll be rather difficult to tie you while
I'm holding you, won't it?"

She bit back a smirk and nodded.

Dean let out a dark chuckle and hooked his
fingers to her skirt to draw her between his thighs. "It's a good
thing there's two of us then, isn't it pet."

He closed his thighs tight against her hips
and grabbed her wrists.

Trapped. Her heart thumped hard into the cage
of her ribs as Dean forced her to her knees. Her nipples tingled
and her breasts felt swollen, heavy. The air she gasped in tasted
like the men and pure, hot sex.

Landon knelt behind her, biting down on the
nape of her neck until she whimpered and stopped struggling. Then
he laughed breathlessly and pressed his solid length against the
small of her back. "Now we've got you."

He left her and returned seconds later,
crouching down next to Dean to undo her shirt. He flipped her bra
off her breasts and used the folded cups to push her breasts up.
Then he rolled her nipples between his fingers and thumbs. Jolts of
pleasure heated her whole chest as he tugged hard. He released her
nipples, reached into his pocket, then pulled out a small
package.

Nipple clamps.
She shook her head and
tried to throw herself backwards. "No way. No fucking way."

"Yes." Landon cupped one breast and applied
the clamp. Her eyes teared as the pain rode over the preceding
pleasure. He didn't give her a chance to adjust to the fierce
pressure before applying the other. "Breathe, Silver."

She didn't want to breathe. She wanted to
kick him.

"I need to tightened them a bit."

Tighten them?
She shook her head.
"Please no!"

He watched her face as he tightened the
clamps, not stopping until tears spilled over her cheeks. Then he
frowned. "What do we say when it's getting to be too much?"

"Yellow."

"Shouldn't you be saying that now?"

She inhaled and shook her head. Damn it,
something inside her needed him to keep pushing. Didn't want him to
hold back. If he took it easy on her, or if she used that word and
got him to back off, she would lose . . . this helpless feeling.
Fuck it hurt. Bad. But he wouldn't have gone even this far if he
didn't think she could take it.

"She's fine, Landon." Dean bent down and
kissed her forehead. "Please continue. I'm curious to see what
you're going to do with that thin rope. It's not to bind her?"

"No." Landon undid her tie and held it up. "I
think this will suffice."

Landon took her wrists from Dean and used her
tie to bind them at the small of her back. Then he draped the rope
around the back of her neck, letting the ends dangle as he folded
the middle part under her collar so it didn't touch her flesh. He
came in front of her again and strung one end of the rope through a
clamp.

"Take your dick out, Dean. I need her to take
you in deep so I can adjust the length."

Adjust the length?

Dean didn't ask any questions. He simply
undid his suit pants and pulled out his engorged cock. He gently
guided her down, stroking her cheek with his knuckles as she opened
her mouth and took him in.

"A little deeper—there. Can you breathe
around him okay, pet?"

The swollen head of Dean's dick almost hit
the back of her throat. But if she opened her mouth wide enough,
air passed around it. She gave Landon a little nod as she stared up
at him, then Dean.

"Fuck, Silver, you feel damn good around me.
Move your tongue a little." Dean groaned as she moved her tongue as
much as she was able, stroking back and forth against the base of
his cock. "Yes. Just like that, pet."

Okay, this was good. She loved the way a
man's cock felt in her mouth, his pulse, his pleasure, all hers to
control. It made her feel special because she was damn good at this
and men had been telling her so since long before she should have
had any idea what a blowjob was. The clamps putting a slight weight
on her nipples changed things a little, but not enough to tear her
away from her practiced motions.

Until Landon attached the other end of the
rope to the second clamp. Rising tightened the rope and her breasts
stretched painfully. Lowering eased the tension, but got her stuck
with Dean's dick almost lodged in her throat.

Her breaths came hard and fast through her
nose. She peered up at Dean, pleading with her eyes.

"Let her up for a minute, Landon," Dean
said.

Landon undid one side of the rope and helped
her sit up.

Dean traced her bottom lip with his thumb.
"Yellow or Red, pet?"

"Re—" She shook her head and swallowed.
"Yellow. I don't think I can do this."

"Why not? Are you having trouble
breathing?"

"No."

Nodding, Dean touched her cheek and smiled.
"You were scared and panicked a bit. This is called predicament
bondage. I've never seen it done quite like this, but it's fucking
hot. I think you'll enjoy being trapped, pleasuring me, while
Landon plays with you. Shall we try again?"

I don't want to.
She pursed her lips
and glanced from him to Landon. Their expressions were unreadable.
She could either give in or refuse. If she refused, well, she
doubted there would be any consequences. But she would miss out on
whatever they had planned.

Mentally putting herself back in that
position, trapped, available, her focus entirely on her body
between both men . . . . Maybe she could do this after all.

"Okay." She smiled at Dean, but gave Landon a
dirty look. "I don't suppose you could loosen the clamps, Sir?"

"Mon petit chaton, if they were too tight,
you wouldn't be giving me that look. You'd be crying and begging."
He cocked his head and gave the rope a sharp tug. Pain flared out
and she squeaked. And the crazy man grinned. "Not even a whimper.
I'd test your limits a little more if you weren't so new, but I
think this will do for today."

"You make pond scum look good, you know that?
I—" She stopped talking when Dean took hold of her jaw. "Umm . . .
."