Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) (5 page)

"Don't threaten me, Silver."

"You should call me Miss Delgado."

Dean let out a gruff laugh. "I don't think
so, pet. But while you're still here, I suggest you refer to me as
either Master or Sir."

"Why should I?" She sniffed and gave him a
swift, detached once over. "Like Sloan said, I not a real sub."

"Aren't you?" He took a step forward and she
took two quick steps back. He closed the distance between them and
put his finger under her chin before she could move again.
"Stop."

Her knees locked and she made a small sound
in her throat as tiny fluttery things danced inside her belly at
his command. She struggled against the clenching down low, but she
couldn't stop herself from leaning, just slightly, towards him.

"There are things you could learn about
yourself here, Silver. Things I and other Masters with experience
could teach you. Have you ever been restrained?"

"Yes."

His eyes narrowed. "Respectfully,
Silver."

She sighed. "Yes, Sir."

"Ropes or cuffs?"

"I hardly see why I would tell you—"

"You will tell me." His hand framed her jaw
in a firm, but not painful hold. "And you will
not
question
me again."

Her mouth went dry. Her eyes wide. She was
almost panting. "Cuffs. Handcuffs."

"What else have you done?"

Mind racing, she went over her considerable
experience and tried to figure out a way to answer that wouldn't
make her sound like a slut. His dark look didn't give her the
impression she could make something up so she went with vague.
"Everything. I've tried a bit of everything."

"Everything?" His brow shot up. "How old are
you?"

"Twenty-two."

People were laughing at her again. She wanted
to scream, to throw something—but she had a feeling that would only
get her in more trouble. Tears of frustration blinded her. One
spilled down her cheek.

"Stay with me, pet. I'm the one you need to
impress, not them." Dean used his thumb to wipe the tear away.
"I've been in this lifestyle for about fifteen years and
I
haven't done everything. You've barely had a taste."

"Fine." She wet her lips with her tongue.
"But that doesn't mean I
want
to do more."

Dean let his hand fall to his side. "Then the
choice is clear, isn't it?"

Yeah. Clear as fucking mud.
Seriously,
why even discuss all this with him? If she stayed, he would punish
her. And it wouldn't be all fun and games. She could walk out with
her pride barely bruised—impressing him didn't matter.

Shouldn't matter.

But it did.

"If I stay—"

"Silver." Asher called, warily eying Dean who
still hadn't moved. "Let's just get out of here. There are other
clubs."

Several murmurs of accord came from the
dwindling crowd. They were getting bored of her. No one wanted her
here and the entertainment value had passed.

"If you stay?" Dean prompted, as though he
hadn't heard anything but her words. The flesh around his eyes
crinkled slightly and a dark strand escaped his neatly parted hair
to rest on his forehead. The touch of grey over his ears gave him a
distinguished look, but that unruly strand made him seem a little
more approachable. And his tone wasn't mocking at all. Actually, it
was warm, kinda nice.

Still, she shook her head. She couldn't
finish that sentence.

He put his hands on her shoulders and
suddenly it seemed like they were the only two people in the room.
Like his opinion
was
all that mattered. "Hear me now,
Silver. I will be very disappointed if you take the easy way out. I
think you're stronger than that. But I won't force you. You can go
home with your boyfriends and have a pleasant evening."

She winced. Sure, going home with Asher and
Cedric would be . . . pleasant. All she had to do was make sure
they didn't forget she was there. Getting punished would be
better.

She gulped as she resolved herself to her
decision.
Maybe.

"All right." She took a deep breath and
rushed through the rest. "So long as it doesn't get too . . .
personal." She forced a smile. "I'm not available."

"That remains to be seen." Dean muttered
before he squared his shoulder and glanced over at Asher. "You may
stay if you'd like. But I warn you, don't come here again playing
the Dom if you won't follow through."

Asher nodded slowly. "Well, you see, things
aren't really that way between Silver and I. If I decide to get
involved in things with Cedric here, it will be different."

Wow. Thanks for completely abandoning
me.
Silver let out a strained, but light, laugh. "Glad you made
that clear, Asher."

"Silver—"

"You can go. I'll be fine."

Apparently, that was exactly what he'd wanted
to hear. Because he left without looking back, Cedric following
demurely on his heel. Which should have bothered her, but it
didn't. Not at all. She didn't need anyone holding her hand.

"Give me your wrists." Dean slid his hands
down her arms and forced her to focus on him as he undid a pair of
cuffs from his belt. "I don't give safewords for punishments, but I
won't push you any further than what you can take."

Oh, that's reassuring.
She ground her
teeth and let him secure the cuffs. "You sure asshole doesn't want
to watch?"

"You will refer to him as Master Sloan in the
club, pet. Preferably when he returns for his apology."

"Like hell I will!"

"If you don't, your punishment will be even
more severe." Dean's tone softened. "And you don't want that."

I really don't.
But then she caught
sight of the whip, lying like a dead black snake at the feet of the
men in the front row, and her pride snapped back into place. Sloan,
the fucktard, had used that whip hurt her sister. Dean couldn't
beat an apology out of her no matter how hard he tried.

She folded her arms over her chest and
sneered. "What will it be, ten lashes? Twenty? Bring it on. I'm not
apologizing to that sorry excuse for a man."

"You're going to wish you didn't say that,
pet." Dean sighed and took hold of her upper arm, towing her with
him out to the main room. "Ten is a good number."

"I'm glad you agree."

He drew her in front of a large, throne like
chair and folded his arms over his chest. "Now strip."

"Strip?" She rubbed her arms and nodded.
Fine, there was a crowd, but she had nothing to hide. All those
women giggling and pointing could eat their fucking hearts out. She
peeled off her top and shorts and faced Dean before letting out a
flippant. "So what are you going to use?"

"My hand."

Aw fuck.

* * * *

Dean struggled to keep his eyes on the mouthy
little sub's face. Not that the pink number had left much to the
imagination, but somehow she hid more in the swatch of cloth than
most women could in a muumuu. Even naked, her posture and icy smile
disguised the vulnerable woman he'd gotten a glimpse of
earlier.

Why did the woman in pink have to be Silver
Delgado? Why couldn't she have been someone a little easier to
handle? Like . . . that Paris Hilton chick.

Not that high maintenance women ever appealed
to him, but hell, maybe Silver wasn't what she pretended to be.

He pulled off his suit jacket, draped it over
the high back of the large, oak throne. Then he pushed the padded,
velvet arms out of the way. The piece was custom made, used most
often for spankings because it was damn comfortable, but the seat
split down the middle to spread a bound subs thighs wide for a good
fucking. He glanced down at the seat and shook his head.

Not this time, Richter. She needs something
else from you tonight.

Settling himself into the chair, Dean patted
his thigh. "Come on, Silver. Let's get this over with."

She looked over her shoulder at the small
gathering and inched closer. "Can't we do this somewhere a little
more private?"

"No." He reached out and caught the short
chain between her cuffs to pull her to him. "You had no problem
disrespecting Master Sloan in front of an audience."

"He fucking deserved it."

Tired of arguing with her, he hooked an arm
around her waist and dropped her over his left knee. As expected,
she immediately kicked and tried to roll off his lap. So he pushed
her knees down and held them in place with his right leg, all the
while firmly gripping the nape of her neck to restrain her. "No.
But
you
deserve this."

Without a breath of warning, he hauled back
and laid a solid smack on her tight little ass. His hand was big
enough to cover both cheeks and a bright red mark blossomed over
her pale flesh. She let out a screech which he cut off with two
quick slaps.

"Damn you!" She bucked her hips and screamed
when he responded with a resounding smack on her upper thigh.
"You're hurting me!"

"That's the point, my dear." One more
crack!
and he decided to give her a little break. He petted
her colorful bottom, speaking in a low, soothing tone. "There are
rules here. You will learn to obey them."

"You think this will turn me into a good
little sub?" She tossed her hair away from her face and glared at
him. "Are you really that stupid, shithead?"

He had to clench his jaw to keep from
laughing.
Shithead? I think you're ready for more.

"You."
Smack!
"Will not."
Crack!
"Swear."
Slap!
"At me or any other member of
this club."

"Fuck you!" She choked on a sob as his hand
connected with the soft undercurve of her ass. "Stop! Stop!."

"One more if you promise to behave," he
said.

"I promise!"

Finally.
For a minute there, he'd
wondered if she'd ever back down. He really didn't want to have to
prolong her punishment, being that this was obviously the first
time she'd ever been disciplined. Much as he enjoyed having her
laid out, naked and available, she needed to know that accepting
that she'd been in the wrong came with its own reward. He had a
feeling a 'good girl' would go a long way with her.

"Brace yourself, pet." He felt her tense up
and waited. A bit of a head-game, but he couldn't help pushing her,
just a little, to see how she'd react.

A few shaky inhales and she let her body go
slack.

He gave her a solid
whack!
and set his
hand on the small of her back as she absorbed the impact with a
quiet dignity he admired. Gently stroking he tender bottom, he let
his approval deepen his tone. "You did very well, Silver. I'm proud
of you."

She went perfectly still. Abruptly her whole
body stiffened up and he had to tighten his grip to keep her from
tossing herself to the floor. "As if I care? That's some ego you've
got, Richter."

Well . . .
he had to admit, that
wasn't at all what he'd expected from her. He gave a curt nod and
patted her butt. "In any case, your punishment is served. After you
apologize to Sloan—"

Her laugh cut through his dwindling sympathy.
"You've got to be kidding me. Did you miss the 'I'd rather take
twenty lashes?"

Stubborn didn't cover it. She had to be
hurting! What was up with the continued defiance? "Silver—"

"Let me up." She hissed, squirming. "You got
your kink on. I'm done."

"You're done when I say so."

"As if! You know, I could use you as a
blueprint to build an idiot."

"Is that so?" He fisted his hand in her hair.
"You've just earned yourself ten more. Sad thing is, I'd originally
intended five because of your lack of experience."

"Oh yeah?" She wrenched her hair free and
turned her head to curl her lips at him. "Well experience this,
asshole."

Bending down, she sank her teeth into his
thigh.

The leather was thin enough for her to latch
onto a nice chunk of skin. But the pain didn't reach the part of
his mind that had locked on to the task at hand. He couldn't be
angry at her, not when she was practically begging for more.

"Twenty it is."

* * * *

Landon took another sip of his beer and shook
his head. Unlike most of the club's patrons, he didn't feel the
need to get a front row seat for the woman's punishment, but still,
he couldn't take his eyes off her. Despite her outrageous behavior,
there was no denying she was submissive. Most women would have told
Richter to take his club and shove it by now. Granted, she didn't
have a safeword, but she didn't have to stay. No one would force
her to go on with this so somewhere, deep inside her, she wasn't
ready for it to end.

But how long will she let this go on before
she gives in?

He pushed away from the bar and moved closer
to get a better look at her poor, abused bottom. Bruises had
already formed, some purple around the edges, and Richter wasn't
holding back. After another five he spoke softly to her, and some
of the fight seemed to leave her as she hung her head and
nodded.

The crowd had thinned. Whatever perverse
pleasure they'd hoped to gain by watching Silver break had been
denied. This could go on all night without her giving in
completely. Most Doms would have shown her the door, figuring there
was no way to get through that thick shell, but Richter was in
another class and Landon had to give him props for not giving up on
her.

I wouldn't either.

He finished his beer and sighed. Those kinds
of thoughts would get him nowhere. He was positioned perfectly to
see the effect the punishment had on Silver. The dim light caught
the slick juices coating her thighs. Whether or not she was ready
to admit it, Richter was getting to her. And he obviously thought
she was worth the time and effort . . .

The play isn't over, Bower.

But with one last
Crack!
the spanking
was. He figured Richter would need a moment to bring her down from
the twisted place between pain and pleasure, but circling around to
where he could see clarity slash through the glaze of her eyes told
him otherwise. He strode back to the bar and asked for a bottle of
water. Then he asked a Domme by the bar where the sub blankets
were.