GAME MISCONDUCT (The Dartmouth Cobras)

by Sommerland, Bianca

  She was as ready as she’d ever be, but part of her needed to know all her options. Was it his way or nothing? “If I say I’m not ready, what happens? We just head home?”

  “No. We’ll check out the lighthouse and spend the night here. If all you want is some sweet vanilla sex, Tyler’s perfectly capable of giving you that.” His expression softened, as though to say he wouldn’t hold the decision against her. “That’s one of the benefits of having so many men at your disposal, love; you get to pick your flavor. Max can’t really enjoy sex without indulging in his kink—and neither can I. But both Dominik and Tyler can give you that whenever you need it.”

  Still so many choices, but none too difficult to make. If she put herself in Sloan’s hands, pain would follow. But he’d told her a certain level of trust was necessary for the extremes. They weren’t there yet.

  “Will I have a safe word?” Lady in Charge insisted on a safe word, but the concept frightened her. What if she couldn’t get the word out? Then again, should she just assume he’d know when she’d had enough?

  “Hey.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip, and she realized it was trembling. The gentle touch brought her back to the present, back to where she still had the power to negotiate. “If you don’t trust me enough to just tell me what you’re okay with, maybe you’re better off with Tyler. Or maybe I’m not being fair—I’d enjoy being with you if you want to keep things light—”

  “No.” She put her hand on his arm and dug her fingers into the taut muscles. “Please, don’t lose your nerve now. I’ve been pushing, and I like that you’re pushing back. I just don’t know what my limits are, and I’m afraid I won’t see them until it’s too late.”

  “Jesus, Oriana, what exactly do you think I’m going to do to you?” He took her hands between his and gave them a light squeeze. “How’s this? I swear there will be no permanent scarring.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s reassuring.”

  “Good.” The way his lips curved told her he’d caught her sarcasm and chosen to ignore it. Jerk. He tightened his grip on her hands. “This is a test run, so any variations of ‘stop’ will work. I’ll also be watching you very carefully.”

  “O-kay . . .” She sighed, missing the initial anticipation, wishing all the talking hadn’t been necessary. “And now—”

  “Tyler can stand by as an extra bit of insurance.”

  Uck. She made a face as the last hint of danger vanished. Much as she lusted after Tyler, much as she’d enjoyed their time together, his presence would restrict rough play.

  “Sure. Whatever.” She tugged her hands free, then left the truck, slamming the door behind her. Who’d have thought Sloan would be the one to chicken out? Striking off toward the trees, she paused when neither Sloan nor Tyler followed. “You coming?”

  “I’ll be right with you, pet.” Sloan tossed her the flashlight and waved her on. “Don’t stray off the path.”

  Branches snapped underfoot as she stomped her way down the path. Don’t stray off the path? What am I, five?

  The wind rustled through the leaves, and ghostly white danced along the edges of her vision. Just the moon, filtering though the dense canopy above. Inhaling to steady her nerves, she soaked in the fresh scent of the ocean and wet cedar. Lovely—and peaceful. She’d never been much of a nature girl, but she could get used to this.

  A raspy howl rose from somewhere to her left, sounding like it came from below. She froze, tucked her hands under her arms, and glanced over her shoulder. Sloan was certainly taking his sweet time. Were he and Tyler having a heart-to-heart? Did he think he could talk his way around Tyler’s issues?

  “Arrogant.” She mumbled to herself, glaring up as clouds spilled over the moon and pitched the forest into darkness. The circular beam of the flashlight bounced off a wall of trees and leaves. The path had disappeared. “And stupid if he thinks he can force Tyler to watch him beat me.”

  Swinging the beam from side to side, she tried to make out the path. To amuse herself, she went over what she’d say to Sloan when he finally caught up.

  “I tried to see your point of view, Sloan, but I can’t get my head that far up my own ass.” She giggled, imagining the look on his face. He’d get all pissy Dom-like, but as usual, he wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. “If you can’t get off without your ‘kink,’ what am I supposed to do with your limp dick?”

  A few yards ahead, a narrow part between the trees revealed the white base of the lighthouse. No wonder Sloan had let her go alone. Despite being momentarily disoriented, she’d never been in any real danger.

  “Ten?” She heard Tyler call out from somewhere behind her.

  A shadow cut her off from the path to the lighthouse. Oriana spun and opened her mouth to scream. A hand covered her mouth, and a big arm locked across her chest.

  “Ten!” Sloan clucked his tongue as she scraped his rough palm with her teeth. His deep, throaty tone made her shiver. “No biting, pet. You won’t like the consequences.”

  Consequences? The word lodged in her throat. With wide eyes, she tipped her head to one side, trying to get a glimpse of Sloan’s face. One look to see whether she should be afraid.

  He held her still, and his lips brushed her ear. “In ten minutes, Tyler will join us. Unless you scream that is—I can’t imagine him staying away then.” He paused as though to let her absorb his words. “I’ll move my hand if you promise to be very, very quiet.”

  Ten minutes. She closed her eyes as her pulse hammered inside her skull. Panic made her feel like a child, spinning around and around until she fell. The night sky, with its piercing stars and patches of thick grey clouds, swirled around her. Sloan could do anything to her in ten minutes.

  But unless he took her far, Tyler could reach them in seconds if she screamed. Not that she didn’t trust Sloan . . . somewhat. But she trusted Tyler more. And she had a feeling Sloan knew.

  “So, what’s it going to be?” Sloan asked. “Silence or a gag?”

  As her skin turned cold, his palm became feverishly hot. The condensation of her breath on his skin wet her lips. Moisture below reminded her of the panties she’d been denied. One less barrier for Sloan to breach, not that a flimsy bit of fabric could stop him from taking whatever he wanted.

  The idea thrilled her, terrified her. He’d left her a wide open window of opportunity to back out, and since she hadn’t, he’d slammed it shut. Her nipples drew into hard little points of arousal, painfully squished under his arm. She made a plaintive sound, and he moved his hand.

  “Well?” He ground his erection against the small of her back and laughed softly when she gasped. “Your answer?”

  “Silence.” She bit her lip as he released her and stepped away, giving her a cold look. “What?”

  “I’m sure your little book instructed you on the proper way to address your Master or Mistress. I’m getting tired of reminding you.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Say it, Oriana.”

  “For Christ’s sake, we’re wasting time!” His hand latched around her upper arm and she yelped. “Hey, you—” As his eyes narrowed, she swallowed the insult she’d almost spat at him. Very bad time to test him. “I’m sorry. I’ll be quiet, Sir. I didn’t mean—”

  “I know.” He smiled and gave her a little nudge in the direction of the lighthouse. “You have a lot to learn, but I’m a patient man.” She took two small steps, and he came up behind her. “But if you don’t hurry, we won’t have time to play. Maybe I should just fuck you right here in the dirt so hard you feel like you’ll break in half. You’re probably wet enough for me to slide right in, aren’t you, my little slut?”

  Slut? Oh, God, is that what he thinks of me? Men don’t take care of sluts; they use them. What if he’d been waiting to get her alone so he could—A rush of pure adrenaline spilled into her veins. Run! Her body screamed, but her knees buckled.

  Sloan grabbed her arm and she whimpered.

  “Shh.” He stroked her hair and whispered. “A little fe
ar, sweetheart, a little pain. Don’t get so caught up that you forget what’s real.”

  Air. Cold sweet air filled her lungs. Her head cleared and she peeked up at him. “What’s real?”

  “I take care of what’s mine.” He kissed her, a tender kiss that reminded her why she was here with him, alone. “And tonight, that’s what you are. All mine.”

  All mine. Damn, that sounded nice. Not that she wanted the other men any less, but she had to admit, she enjoyed feeling like she belonged to someone.

  She sighed into his mouth as he nibbled on her bottom lip, then drew back a little to look into his eyes. “So you won’t try to break me?”

  “Hell, no.” He chuckled and set her away from him. Taking out a single key on a simple metal ring, he pressed it into her palm. “No breaking, just a few bruises.” He pointed at the lighthouse. “Now get.”

  She took a step and his hand smacked her ass. Jumping, she glared back at him.

  He arched a brow and reached down to undo his belt. “You have to the count of three.” He slid the length of leather out and folded it in half. “One.”

  Letting out a strangled scream, she turned and ran.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Sloan ducked under the cobwebs strung over the arched stairwell leading to the lantern room, going over in his mind how he’d handle Oriana with the same diligence he’d give positioning his men for a penalty kill. No verbal humiliation, at least until she felt a little more secure about their relationship. He stood for a moment to watch her lean over the railing on the lantern gallery, and a smile tugged at his lips. She bounced on the balls of her feet, looked back at him, then bit her lip. Eager and a little nervous. Perfect. Mind-numbing fear they’d explore together eventually, but anticipation would suffice for now.

  But how to give her the edge she needed from him without overdoing it? Several times he’d found her limits and pushed enough to get a nice reaction, but when he eased off, she always seemed disappointed. Like she thought there should be . . . more.

  Maybe he’d let her think too much.

  Joining her on the gallery, he placed himself behind her and put hands over hers on the railing. “Next time, I expect you to wait for me on your knees.”

  Her spine went stiff. “Why—”

  “To show you’re well trained.” He continued over her sputtering. “You’ll also learn what’s required from you in certain situations and obey my commands without question.”

  “I . . .” She straightened, and he trapped her hands on the bar. Her breaths came out in short little gasps. “But—”

  “The answer you’re looking for is ‘Yes, Sir’ or ‘Yes, Master Sloan.’” He slid her hands on the railing until her arms were fully extended. Then he kicked her feet hip-width apart. “I don’t want to have to punish you again, pet.”

  She squirmed, trying to pry her hands out from under his. He tightened his grip and felt the rigid muscles pressed against his chest go slack. “Yes, M—Sir.”

  Her body succumbed, but her mind wasn’t there yet. The verbal slip told him she fought to retain some control.

  Which just wouldn’t do. He kissed her throat, then set his teeth in the quivering flesh. She went perfectly still.

  “Don’t move your hands.” Reaching around her, he opened her jeans, then tugged them down to her knees. The smooth, pale globes of her exposed butt quivered, as did her thighs, but she didn’t move. He glanced at her bowed head as he stroked her bottom, taking note of the stiff set of her shoulders. When he covered her bare pussy with his hand, moisture slicked his palm.

  “Sloan—I mean, Sir—Oh!” Her back arched as he massaged her plump lower lips, then bucked as he prodded her gently with one finger. “Please!”

  “Soon, bunny.” The muscles of her cunt clenched around his finger, and he grinned at her tiny growl of irritation. “Get used to me calling you that, sweetheart; I rather enjoy the reaction it gets. You’re my little puck bunny, aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m—” She hissed in a breath as he added another finger alongside the first and started pumping. “Just. . . just. . .”

  “Yes.” He traced a line with his wet fingers over her puckered anus. Her butt wiggled provocatively, and she shifted her thighs, trying to open them wider. His already rock-hard dick throbbed in response to the invitation, but another need had to be fulfilled first. “There won’t be much warm-up, bunny, but when I have more time, we’ll have a proper session.”

  “Session?” she whispered, then moaned when he squeezed both her ass cheeks.

  “Mmmhmm.” He withdrew his hand, waited until she wiggled again, then hauled back. Whack. Her butt blossomed in the shape of his hand. She yelped and threw her head back. “An hour of beating your ass until you’re seeing stars. But Tyler will be with us any minute, so I’ll have to cut this short.”

  Another two smacks, and he yanked his already open belt from his jeans and folded it in half. The scent of her sweet arousal drifted up on the cool sea breeze, and the light from the flashlight abandoned on the gallery floor made her slick juices glisten on her inner thighs.

  She was ready.

  The first strike cracked out loud, leather on flesh, a harsh contrast to nature’s gentle melody. Oriana’s cry joined the crash of distant waves, muffled so it played in tune with the rustle of leaves from below. Her butt rose up as though eager for the next blow, but he waited, drinking in the heady feeling of power. He rubbed the stark red welt he’d made—that she’d let him make. Not because he’d paid her to take whatever he dished out, not because he was one of the few real Doms in a club full of wannabes, but because he could fulfill a need inside her. One she hadn’t even known she had.

  He swung the belt again. Crack! The world became sharp, piercing into him as an acute awareness of his body and hers took over. Too fast, this level of control never hit him this fast. If Tyler weren’t coming, he wouldn’t stop until he made her come from pain warped into pleasure, but he could already hear the boy on the stairs.

  Little whimpers escaped her, and she jutted her hips up at him in a way that said “take me now.” He saw no reason to deny her.

  But when he backed away to free himself from the confines of his jeans, she whined.

  “More . . . please more.”

  More? More what?

  “Please, Sir—Master . . . that felt amazing. The belt . . .”

  He had to be dreaming. She actually wanted the pain enough that she was begging for it?

  He backed into the door before Tyler could open it. Damn, the boy could see everything. Traumatizing the kid to indulge himself—and her—would be wrong.

  “We can’t, baby. Maybe next time—”

  “Master, don’t do this to me. I need . . .” She bucked her hips and he groaned.

  She needed desperately, and he couldn’t find it in him to say no. He turned and pressed his forehead against the door as his own desires blazed through him like his blood had become ignited gasoline.

  “Five more minutes, Vanek.” Pre-cum beaded on the tip of his dick, and he snarled. “I swear, I’ll make it worth the wait.”

  The sound of Tyler hitting the door vibrated through the still air like the pounding of a metal drum. “What are you doing to her?”

  “Giving her what she needs.” He sucked in enough sea air to fill his lungs and turned back to the woman whose baser cravings only he could fulfill. “Don’t watch. Your limits aren’t hers.”

  Hauling off with the belt, he gave her everything he had, whipping her with the leather again and again until she screamed for him. Until she called him Master as though she meant it.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Oriana’s pulse thudded under her blazing flesh, and each strike created a searing wave of pure sensation. She couldn’t understand the way her body responded. Pain didn’t register. The last few strikes were hard enough to bruise, some part of her mind knew that, but the heat spreading over her ass only caused blood to rush to her clit. One more solid smack,
and she’d burst.

  “Look at that.” Sloan’s hands covered her butt, rubbing in the heat. He bent down and bit into the fleshy part of one cheek. “You’re so hot. I want to lick you.” He spread her open and licked up the cleft of her ass. “Eat you.” He bit her again, so hard the sensation stabbed right into her spine. Her back bowed as he molded his body against hers and pressed his dick between her thighs. “Fuck you.”

  “Yes.” She rubbed against him, desperate for everything, anything he would give her. “Do it. I’m yours.”

  “Damn right, you are.” He moved away, and she heard a wrapper rip. Then felt his cock, slipping and sliding in her juices. “All mine.”

  Her cunt pulsed and her insides rippled, prepared for him to fill her.

  Instead, his fingers pushed inside her, then spread her moisture over her anus. The slick head of his dick followed, pressing hard. Jaw set, she pressed back, relaxing her muscles as he eased his way inside, panting at the insistent, painful pressure. Once he was fully sheathed, he pulled her away from the railing and wrapped his arms around her waist. The position brought him deeper, and she swallowed a cry as the stretching began to sting and burn.

  “You’re doing good, baby.” He kissed her cheek and dragged his dick out a little. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

  “I’m—” She hissed as he ground back in. The stinging had passed, but still, it seemed like there was too much inside her. With all the lube they’d used during her first two anal experiences, she’d only felt momentary discomfort before the slippery penetration became dark ecstasy. This was gritty, raw.

  “It’s okay; there’s no rush.” As though to prove his point, he palmed her breasts, kneading them gently. He nibbled on her earlobe, then grazed his teeth down her throat. She shifted restlessly as he tugged at her nipples, stretching them out until electric currents shot through her breasts. Then down into her pussy and her ass.