GAME MISCONDUCT (The Dartmouth Cobras)

by Sommerland, Bianca

  She let out a shallow laugh. “I didn’t have a messed-up childhood.”

  “Anyway, that’s irrelevant now.” He set his hands on the door behind her and nodded at Tyler. “You do need to be punished.”

  All her morose feelings fled like they wanted no part of his plans. She trembled and put her hands on his forearms, hard as steel bars, trapping her. The crotch of her borrowed jeans dampened, and heat flooded her cheeks.

  “I do?” She surveyed the empty street, noting the empty driveways, the houses with dark windows. Dusk, and no one was home. But still . . . “Not here?”

  “Everyone’s still at the arena. We’ve got a bit of time before the game ends and they all head home.” The edge of his lips quirked. “But not much.”

  In other words, she’d better hurry and accept the punishment, or he’d do it with an audience.

  She didn’t want to stall, but maybe she could talk him out of punishing her at all? “Why do I need to be punished?”

  “You know why.” He reached between them and unzipped her jeans. “Now tell me, you don’t like to be embarrassed, do you?”

  Stupid question. She clenched her thighs when he started pushing her jeans down. “No, I don’t.”

  “Oriana, if you make this difficult, I’m going to strip you and bend you over the hood of the truck. Then I’ll go with my original idea of using my belt on your pretty ass. I doubt you’ll be able to get dressed before someone shows up.”

  “I want you to stop.” She did. She didn’t. She couldn’t make up her mind. But she held his wrists to prevent him from going further.

  For what seemed like forever, he studied her face. Then he pried her hands from his wrists. “And if I believed you, I would. You’re not crazy about doing this outside, but the last thing you want is for me to stop. You’d be very disappointed if I took you at your word.”

  “No.” She groaned and her knees locked, but the muscles in her thighs went slack. He peeled her jeans down. The moisture smeared between her legs cooled as the breeze kicked up.

  “Yes.” He shoved his hand in his pocket. “I want the truth, Oriana. You know I’m disappointed in you, and you’ll do anything to make it up to me, won’t you?”

  Anything? She watched him pull something out of his pocket. The last time she’d seen him reach into his pocket with a woman at his mercy, he’d taken out a small blade and held it against her throat. Maybe she was willing to do anything to make amends.

  Anything but that.

  She swallowed. “You’re not going to use your knife on me, are you?”

  He shook his head. “No. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t trust you enough yet.”

  Shouldn’t the trust be on her end? His hands covered her pussy, and her hips jerked.

  “I’ll just assume the feeling is mutual.”

  Mutual? She squirmed as his fingers tapped her clit, creating little spikes of pleasure to zip up in time with the steady tattoo. Then she nodded and let her head fall back. Oh, yes. Mutual feeling sounds right.

  “You still haven’t answered me.”

  What? She waited for an explanation, but none came. Then she remembered. The truth. He wanted the truth.

  “I’ll do anything but bleed for you . . .” His fingers stilled, and she whimpered. “Unless . . .”

  She’d made him bleed. Shouldn’t she let him . . .

  “No blood. Not tonight.” His fingers slipped in her folds as moisture spilled, and he made a gruff sound in his throat. “Jesus, you tempt me—the way you respond . . .” She peeked at him and the flesh around his eyes crinkled. “Soon. Very, very soon.”

  “Um, you two are freaking me out.” Tyler folded his arms over his chest, his gaze flicking from Sloan’s hand on Oriana’s crotch to somewhere in the golden horizon. “Is there a reason you wanted me here?”

  Sloan nodded. “Do you know what this is?”

  Tyler shuffled closer, took one look at whatever Sloan had in his hand, and grinned. “Uh-huh. Those things are fun. My ex-girlfriend use to put one in her pussy before we went out to fancy restaurants. By the time we got home, she’d be so wet—”

  “Good, well, I want you to use this on Oriana while we have a little chat.” He dropped a shiny, black object into Tyler’s palm, and scooted over while Tyler knelt in front of her. “Every time it seems like she’s getting close, stop.”

  “Stop?” Oriana stared at Tyler’s hand. She couldn’t figure out the purpose of the tiny thing, but since Tyler didn’t get off on pain, she wasn’t too worried. But why stop?

  Both men smiled at her, then carried on their conversation.

  “Okay,” Tyler said.

  “I mean it.”

  “Gotcha, Captain.”

  Sloan slid his hand from between her thighs, and Tyler took his place, spreading her pussy lips apart with his fingers. Oriana tried to see what he was doing, but Sloan clamped his hand around her jaw and forced her to look at him.

  “Hook your fingers to my belt, honey.” He waited until she’d complied before continuing. “If this gets to be too much, tug twice, and everything stops. Understand?”

  If what gets to be too much? She licked her lips, not sure whether she should agree or go along with whatever he would do to her. Her brain turned to mush as all her attention fixed on Tyler’s prodding fingers. Her thighs quivered as he exposed her clit and pressed something hard against the tip of the exposed nub. Then her entire world started vibrating.

  “Ah!” Electric pulses zinged up every nerve. Pleasure assaulted her, and her nipples pebbled in response. “Oh, yes!”

  “What will you do if it gets to be too much?” Sloan whispered against her lips.

  “Tug.” She gasped as all the muscles inside her contracted, and Tyler slid one finger in. She dropped her hips to take him deeper but his finger circled, teasing her. “Tug twice.”

  “Good girl.” Sloan traced her lips with his tongue. His hands slid down to her throat. “Now, I need you to understand something.”

  I understand! Don’t stop, don’t stop!

  Sloan made a motion with his hand at the edge of her vision, and the vibrations ceased.

  Uh, I hate you! She glared at Sloan and spread her thighs as far as she could, hoping Tyler would take the hint.

  But he didn’t.

  “What?” She felt like screaming, but someone might hear. Sudden panic had her looking over Sloan’s shoulder, over her own. The street was still empty, but the distant sounds of cars told her it wouldn’t be for long. “Please! What?”

  “What, who?” Sloan’s thumb stoked her throat, up and down, up and down. “Who am I?”

  Mindless with need, she tossed her head back and groaned. “Master, Captain . . . Oh, God!”

  “‘Sir’ will do.” Sloan motioned again, and the vibrating thing touched her clit. “I don’t expect us to see eye to eye on everything, but I do expect you to talk to me when something is bothering you.”

  “Okay.” Sounded good. Anything that kept things going sounded good. She whimpered as Tyler filled her with one finger, pumping deeper and deeper until her pulse matched his thrusts. She teetered on the brink of climax and pressed her eyes shut.

  Tyler withdrew his finger.

  “No!” She tried to push down again, but Sloan pressed his thumb against her larynx.

  “Don’t move.” His tone warned her of the danger of disobeying, told her she’d regret it if she did.

  For some reason, she couldn’t resist pushing a little, just to see how far he’d go. She wasn’t afraid—yet. But she wanted to be.

  “Tyler, please—”

  A bit more pressure on her windpipe and she cut herself off. Mouth opened wide, she gulped in air, but not enough. She couldn’t get enough.

  “Keep going, Tyler,” Sloan said.

  Danger, pleasure, all wrapped into a fiery ball of ecstasy. The flames spiraled up, out of control. Two fingers filled her, then three, moving faster, harder. She felt like the sensations were smothe
ring her. One lungful of air and they would disappear. She pressed against Sloan’s hand, held her breath when the press of his thumb wasn’t enough.

  “Don’t do that.” Sloan stroked up and down her throat, hard enough for her to feel, light enough for her to breathe if she chose to. “I wanted to see how you’d take to a little breath play, and obviously you enjoy it, but we’ll have to work up to me actually controlling how much air you can take in. Trust, sweetheart. It takes time.”

  “I trust you, I trust you!” She spoke without drawing in air, almost there, almost . . .

  “You’re smarter than that.” Sloan took his hand from her throat and patted her cheek. “I’ll earn your trust, not take it while you’re desperate to get off.” He glanced down. “Okay, enough, Tyler.”

  Tyler removed his fingers and the tiny vibrating thing. Then he stood.

  “I’m not sure I get what you’re doing, Sloan.” He put his fingers to his lips and sucked, rolling his eyes as though savoring some delicacy. “But I’m enjoying this so far.”

  “Tyler.” With one hand, she blocked Sloan’s attempt to pull up her jeans. With the other, she reached for Tyler. Her fingers brushed the telling lump angling up to his belt. “Please, I need—”

  “No. You want.” Sloan stepped between her and Tyler, then opened the driver’s side door of the truck. “I’ll decide what you need.”

  A second longer and she’d have Tyler doing whatever she asked; the uncertainty in his eyes made it obvious. But Sloan wouldn’t let that happen.

  And she felt pretty silly standing there with her jeans around her knees. Lips pursed, she jerked them up and elbowed past Sloan. “I don’t get you.”

  His arm whipped out and barred across her belly. Her back hit his solid chest. He ground his erection into her butt.

  “Well, get this.” He licked up the length of her throat, then bit her earlobe. Hard. She yelped, and he covered her mouth with his hand. “I’d love to fuck you right here, but you wouldn’t enjoy being watched by the very same people who saw you throw a fit on the ice. Making you desperate enough to beg was punishment enough. I don’t imagine you get off on humiliation.”

  As if on cue, a bright red Volvo rumbled up the street, slowing as it passed. The couple in front glanced over, then away. The two little boys in the backseat pressed their faces against the window and waved.

  Bitter shame poured down her throat and puddled in her gut. Her hand fluttered over her throat.

  “I feel sick.” Her stomach lurched, and she bent over. Hands on her knees, she inhaled deeply. “Oh, God. What’s wrong with me?”

  Sloan rubbed between her shoulder blades and held her hair away from her face as she gagged. “You’re like a kid in an amusement park, sweetheart. You’re jumping on the biggest, fastest rides before you’re ready to handle the small ones. Paul cheating on you made you reckless. Which is fine. You explored a part of yourself you never would have otherwise. But it’s time to slow down a little. I’ll help you, and if you trust me at all, trust me to know how far you can go.”

  The back of her throat burned, but the urge to vomit passed. Sloan’s words, along with their implication, soothed her. He’d told her from the start he could read her. Her every movement, every breath, told him what she needed. Even when she wasn’t sure, he knew.

  She felt exposed yet safe with him. Not completely; he still frightened her with his intensity and his promises of pain, but she had a feeling that was intentional. The ever-present uncertainty added a thrill, a delicious sense of danger. No matter how many times she said he didn’t scare her, they both knew he did.

  Trust took time, granted, but fear—there was no reason not to enjoy that now.

  Straightening, she leaned against him, enjoying the comforting way he rubbed her arms, almost wishing they could stay like that for a while. But her body craved what she’d been denied. The dampness between her thighs, the lust blazing in her veins, demanded more than his gentle touch.

  “So, if I’m not ready for extreme exhibitionism—what am I ready for?” She turned in his arms, stroked his rippled abs, then let her hands drift lower. When Sloan cursed, she peered up at him with an innocent smile on her lips and massaged his cock through his jeans. “Or will my punishment last all night?”

  “One of these days, you’ll push me so far, and I’ll whip you until you feel like I’ve peeled the flesh from your ass and your back.” His smile got bigger as the blood left her face. When she started shaking, he sniffed her hair as though he could smell her fear. “But it could take months—even years—before we can share that kind of pain, before you’ll understand the rapture of agony.”

  Months, years. Yep, I agree. We’ll go there later. Much, much later. Her fingers shook as she played with his unadorned silver belt buckle. “And until then?”

  “Lucky for you, torturing myself doesn’t appeal to me. And poor Tyler.” He nodded toward the sidewalk where Tyler kicked a rock between his sneakers, letting out a heavy sigh before glancing their way. “He doesn’t deserve this. He’s been a good sport.”

  Sloan’s games were driving her nuts. She wished he’d get to the point. “So where are we going?”

  “The lighthouse.” He motioned for her to get in the car, then shrugged and climbed in when she didn’t move. “I told you I’d take you. The plumber owns the one out near Bay View. He’s got a camper there he said we can use for the night. In exchange for rink side seats the next time he’s in Dartmouth.”

  Seats for a pickup and a private visit to a lighthouse, complete with accommodations. Would luxury suites at the Dartmouth forum be worth a few souls? Did she really want to know?

  The passenger side door opened with a tired screech. Tyler climbed into the cab. “Can we do something? I’m hard enough to hammer nails.”

  “Charming, Vanek.” Sloan braced an elbow on the steering wheel, shook his head at Tyler, then gave Oriana an expectant look. “You coming?”

  With one last lungful of clean air, Oriana stepped onto the ledge of the door. She’d come to terms with giving in to Sloan. Once they reached the cove.

  “Go sit on the toolbox in the back.” Oriana pointed to the wooden box bolted to the floor in the small space behind the seats. “This is my truck. I’m driving.”

  Sloan frowned. “Listen, pet—”

  “I’m dressed, and we’re not having sex, Sloan.” She folded her hands over her knee and leaned forward, lashes fluttering. “Don’t call me ‘pet.’ My truck, my rules. Go sit.”

  “You’re gonna pay for this,” Sloan muttered before he hunched over and folded himself onto the box. “I hope you know what you’re doing, sweetheart.”

  “Why, Sloan, I thought you could read me so well.” Tossing her hair over one shoulder, she climbed into the driver’s seat and buckled herself in. “Can’t you tell?”

  His narrowed eyes met hers through the rearview mirror, then widened slightly. Whatever he saw seemed to please him, because he relaxed—as much as possible given the cramped space.

  She might not be ready for the behemoth ride, but she could handle more than a merry-go-round. Sloan was like the ticket-master, measuring stick in hand, sizing her up. And from the looks of it, she’d passed.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The truck’s headlights illuminated an overgrown path almost completely obscured by the dense woods. Oriana squinted at her map, sure Sloan’s directions were off. Not that she’d ever been to a lighthouse before, but shouldn’t there be a beacon of light visible for miles to warn ships away from the jagged rocks hidden by high tide? Wasn’t that the point?

  “We’re here.” Sloan leaned between the seats and grinned at her. “What’s wrong? Did you think I’d get us lost?”

  “I think we are lost.” She squinted at the darkness and shook her head. “There can’t be a lighthouse here.”

  “Well, there is. If you’re looking for some kind of bright, shiny confirmation, you won’t find it. The lighthouse has been shut down for years.” H
e hunched forward and opened the toolbox behind him. Metal clinked and thumped. Then a click and a white glare filled the cab. “Good old Norton. I knew he’d have one. Let’s go.”

  Red spotted her vision, and she blinked fast, rubbing her face with both hands. Tyler swore, and she heard him exit the cab. Turning, she shielded her face and frowned at Sloan.

  “A warning would have been nice.”

  He aimed the flashlight at the floor and gave her a sinister smile. “I’m not nice.”

  Icy slivers of dread crawled up her spine. She dug her nails into her palm. “You can be.”

  “Perhaps.” He inclined his head, and his whole bearing loosened up. When she let out a huff of relief, his hand snaked out to catch a handful of her hair. “But that’s not what you want from me tonight.”

  A firm tug arched her neck, and sharp pain spiked from the roots of her hair. Her heart stuttered. Then she did. “Y-you said you’d g-give me what I n-need, n-not what I want.”

  “That I did.” He released her hair and caressed her cheek with his calloused fingertips. “But tonight, your needs and wants happen to be the same. I’ve tolerated a lot of insolence from you, pet, more than with any other sub, but that ends now. Unless I’m wrong, you’re acting out because you’re frustrated. You have three Doms forcing you to lead the way, which feels unnatural, doesn’t it?”

  How did he know? Fine, she’d said the words once or twice—she’d even told Dominik she was done making choices, but this was the first time she really felt like she’d been heard.

  But what exactly was she asking for? Wouldn’t it be safer to immerse herself into this . . . lifestyle with Dominik or Max?

  Yes. Only she was tired of playing it safe.

  Ready to take the plunge, she mentally stepped up to the edge—then inched away. “I don’t like you calling me ‘pet.’”

  “Do I look like I care?” Sloan took Tyler’s abandoned seat and placed his hands on his knees. The muscles of his bare forearms tensed. “You can’t have things both ways with me, Oriana. Either you surrender, or you don’t. I thought I could carry on this way a little longer, but quite frankly, I’m tired of the teasing. If you’re not ready, you better make it damn clear.”