Silver blinked, nodded, and backed out of the room. Her shoulder hit the door jamb and her lips formed another 'I'm sorry', but Oriana had returned to the window.
Damn me and my big mouth.
She knew Oriana wasn't okay with her taking over ownership of the team for their father.
You just don't think.
Then again, that wouldn't surprise Oriana. Everyone knew Silver was spoiled and selfish. And she knew Oriana would forgive her, just like she always did. She stared at her sister's stiff back for a while, then retreated.
Making her way to the main room, Silver spotted Asher and Cedric seated near the end of the aisle. The Dartmouth Cobra players took up most of the front seats. By right, the sister of the bride should be up there.
But Oriana didn't need her family anymore. She had a new one.
Loving and loyal. Exactly what she deserved.
So where do you fit in?
She didn't—not yet anyway. Reality hit her and she forced the tension from her body and leaned against Asher. Honestly, she shouldn't have expected everything to be all right with her sister—they'd hardly spoken since her return. Being like real sisters again would take some work.
Starting tonight she would show Oriana she wanted that again. After all, she was the one who'd left, who'd decided she needed her freedom more than she needed anyone. She'd abandoned the sister who'd practically raised her, leaving her to deal with Daddy and all his issues alone.
But I'm back. And I'm not going anywhere.
* * * *
Dean rubbed his hands on his knees and sat up straight. Aside from the bride walking down the aisle in a dress that had several of the players adjusting themselves in their seats the ceremony was as long and dull as he'd expected. It reminded him of an ex-girlfriend who'd been into soaps. She'd be sitting there, all teary eyed, mumbling about how finally the current super-couple was getting their dream wedding. And he'd be forced to sit there, feigning interest while the priest went on and on for three episodes. Sappy personal vows would be exchanged and the couple would rush out while the cast cheered and blew bubbles at them because rice was bad for the stupid birds.
Unless something interesting happened. Like the bride getting shot or someone in the crowd stood up and claimed to be having the groom's baby.
No such luck. Not that he wanted Oriana to get shot, but the minister . . .
Hell, is he reading the extended version?
The wedding ended. The collaring began. A bit more to the point, but Dominik seemed determined to cover everything. He included Max and Sloan in the ceremony, having Sloan cuff Oriana while Max braided her hair up and out of the way. She knelt and Dominik placed the collar around her throat. The small lock clicked and Dominik hung the key around his neck on a black ribbon.
"You belong to us, love," Sloan said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Tonight you submit to our pleasure—whatever it may be. Do you give your consent?"
Oriana's cheeks glistened with tears as she tipped her head back. "Yes. But—"
Dominik frowned. "But?"
Well, this just got interesting. Dean leaned forward.
"I don't want to wait for your mark, Sloan." Oriana took a deep breath. "I want something tonight. Something that won't fade in a day or two."
"Are you sure?" Sloan laid his hands over her cheeks, using his thumb to wipe away her tears. "I'm happy to oblige, bunny, but I don't want you to regret it tomorrow when you're not all emotional. People could see it, it's still pretty warm out."
"I don't care—let them see." Oriana closed her eyes and touched her collar. "I need you to be part of this."
"I am." Sloan straightened. "And I will be. Dominik and Max will chain you for me, babe. Is that okay?"
Oriana shuddered. "That's perfect."
The foursome moved to a playroom and the crowd followed as one without being invited. Dean stood in the doorway and glanced over at his brother as he and his wife approached.
"Was my wedding this long?"
Tim made a face. "Your divorce was longer. I think the four of them will make it work, don't you?"
Despite being bored out of his mind, Dean had to admit he could see the men really loved Oriana. And she loved them back without restraint. His wife had never been like that. She'd taken his ring and his collar, but she'd always held part of herself back. As soon as their daughter had grown up enough for her to gain some independence, his wife had decided she wanted the same. For years he'd told her to find her own interests, to be more than a stay-at-home mother—which she obviously hated being—and his sub. She'd insisted she had everything she wanted, then suddenly decided she wanted none of it. She walked out on him in search of a carefree life and ditched her daughter because, as she'd said, she'd never really wanted to be a mother. In front of their sixteen year old daughter.
Seeing the utterly crushed look on his daughter's face had hardened Dean's heart. He'd signed the divorce papers. But that hadn't been enough. His wife needed his money to have her fun. He'd resisted at first, but the long court battle had taken their toll on his daughter and he'd finally given in. Let the bitch have the money. His daughter needed to know someone still wanted her.
He'd been blind when it came to his wife, but he didn't think Oriana's men had that problem with her. She was as open and honest as they came.
"They'll work." Dean jabbed his thumbs into the pockets of his leathers and wrenched his thoughts away from the past. "Not what I'd want, but I've never met a woman like Oriana. It's hard to believe she's Delgado's kid."
"Can't argue that." Tim pressed a light kiss on his wife's brow. "But some of us are lucky and get the pick of the litter. My baby has a messed up family too, but she rose above it. You wouldn't want to know her siblings, or her parents. But coming from them made her a strong woman you can't help but admire."
This was true. Tim didn't tell him much, but he'd done enough scenes with Tim's wife, enough after care before Tim took her away for the sexual stuff, to have learned a bit.
For the past two years, he'd kept scenes nice and impersonal. Platonic with Tim's wife, exploring a bit of pain, and purely sexual with the subs that came to the club not wanting a commitment. Maybe one day he'd meet a woman who would fit into his life in the way his wife never could, but he was perfectly happy without that now. He didn't need more.
Not yet.
Then again, he was open to the possibility. The woman in pink, for example. He hadn't seen her since he and Landon had watched her filling in the forms, but if she proved to be available as he thought she was . . .
Well, he might make an exception for her. He pictured her kneeling at his feet, naked, ready for more than just the vanilla with a bit of kink he'd settle for of late. A brief glimpse of what she had convinced him he had something to offer her. Even if only tonight.
* * * *
Silver swallowed convulsively, fighting not to jump every time Sloan's whip hit her sister's bare flesh. Her cheeks had heated slightly when Oriana had been stripped, and she hadn't wanted to look at first, but as each sharp Crack! got louder she couldn't stop herself from staring at the long, red welts on her sister's back, butt, and thighs.
So far, so good. After all, Silver had been to plenty of BDSM and fetish clubs, she'd seen people whipped before. Of course, all the places she'd gone to had been more glamorous than Blades & Ice. The few men that had used a flogger or a paddle on her ass before fucking her knew better than to leave marks. She always had a list of limits a mile long when she played.
Looks like Oriana has a shorter list. A mocking voice said as she watched Sloan pause and kneel to kiss an unmarked spot on Oriana's hip. He stroke up her thigh and tipped his head back to say something only Oriana could hear.
Oriana nodded.
As Sloan straightened, a sick feeling of dread pooled in Silver's gut. She dug her nails into her palm and glanced over at Asher—who was kissing Cedric and completely oblivious to everyone else in the room. Other people were making
out or . . . more. Apparently watching the scene had gotten a few people hot.
But these people didn't know Oriana. Oriana always put other's needs before her own. She would let Sloan push her further and further, never asking him to stop, if she thought it was what he wanted. And Sloan was just the type of asshole to take advantage of her passive nature.
Oriana's not stupid. Maybe this is what she wants.
Silver fumbled with her purse and took out a lollipop.
The whip snaked out over Sloan's head, came down in a black blur, and curled around Oriana's hip. Oriana gasped. A thin line of blood trickled.
Silver dropped the lollipop and rushed forward. "You son-of-a-bitch!"
Sloan froze and stared at Silver. "What—"
Smack! Her palm went numb and she watched her handprint on his face darken to a bright red, shocked, but not satisfied. If only she was big enough, strong enough, to do some real damage. To make him bleed.
The crowd had gone silent. And not one member of the team Oriana cared about so much moved to help her. Fucking cowards! Afraid to stand up to your Captain?
Well she wasn't.
"Get away from her!" When Sloan didn't budge, Silver snatched the whip from his hand and threw it across the room. "She trusts you! How could you do that to her?"
His dark eyes narrowed. "Silver—"
"Don't 'Silver' me! You don't fucking scare me, Sloan." She poked him in the center of his bare chest. "The worst thing is, I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. But you're the same arrogant bastard you've always been. I think we both know exactly why you enjoy beating on women, don't we? Does Oriana know you're an impotent freak? Is that why she needs Max and Dominik?"
The area around the handprint on Sloan's face turned a darker shade of red. When he didn't say anything she looked over at Max, who was standing in front of Oriana, speaking softly, and Dominik who was watching the crowd expectantly.
"Dominik, are you seriously going to put up with him treating her like this?"
The big black man ignored her.
Rage bubbled up inside and she moved to get his attention.
Suddenly, Sloan's hand shot out. He hooked a finger to her collar. "Who are you here with?"
"Excuse me?" She pried at his fingers in an effort to get free, but his hand seemed like one solid piece of iron. "Why does it matter?"
"Subs in this club don't disrespect Doms and get away with it." He jerked her collar. "Don't. Move."
All the blood left her face. She went still.
"Where's your Master?"
"He's there." She pointed at Asher, pleading with her eyes for him to come get her away from Sloan. Fuck not being scared. This guy's crazy!
Asher's eyes went big and round. He shook his head. "Look, man. We're not . . . I can't . . . Damn, she was just worried about her sister. Give her a break."
"Are you refusing to punish her?" Sloan threw his head back and laughed at Asher's nod. "Why am I not surprised? You treat BDSM like you do everything else, Silver? Like it's one big fucking game? Was coming here as a sub just your idea of playing dress up?"
"You better watch it Sloan," Silver said, doing her best to sound brave even though, for the first time in her life, she was the center of attention and really just wanted to disappear. Everyone was staring at her like she'd done something wrong. "I'm your boss."
"And I give a shit?" Sloan caught someone's eye and Silver tried to twist around to see who. "You dealing with this or are we just kicking her out?"
"That's entirely up to her." The man's voice was deep, just gruff enough to be sexy, but it was the edge, the way he spoke as though obedience was a given, that made goose bumps rise all over her flesh. "I'll give you a choice, Silver. Sloan, you can let her go."
As soon as she was released, Silver shuffled away from Sloan, careful not to get too close to—shitshitshit—Dean Richter. Even over the phone, the man intimidated her, but it had been easy to come off as unimpressed without his sharp, hazel eyes locked on her, seeing everything she tried to hide.
"Are you listening to me?"
Silver evaded his steady gaze and tried to see around him. "Oriana?"
Dean glanced over his shoulder. "She's fine. Perron, Mason, would you please take Oriana to another room to come down?" He smiled. "It looks like she managed to stay in a good place."
Neither Max nor Dominik said anything, but moments later a door at the other side of the room opened and closed.
Sloan stared in the direction of the door, then looked at Dean. "I'll leave this to you. I need to be there when Oriana's head clears."
"Go ahead," Dean said.
Once Sloan disappeared, Silver managed to hike her chin up and look Dean in the eye. "I want to go with them." Her pulse quickened. "Please. Just let me see if she's all right."
"So polite now." Dean circled her slowly, close enough that his leather pants brushed her thighs and his breath stirred her hair. "You're used to getting your own way, aren't you, Silver?"
As if that's a bad thing? "You said you were giving me a choice."
"I am." Dean stopped at her side. The fine lines on his cheeks smoothed away as his expression went blank. "Your choices are leave my club and don't ever come back, or accept whatever punishment I choose to give you."
"Punishment for what?"
"You're dating two lawyers and you don't know better than to sign something without reading it?" One brow arched, tone light, he seemed to be laughing at her.
A few people in the crowd did.
Deep, deep breaths and an eye roll kept the tears back. "I wasn't planning to do a scene tonight. I didn't think it was all that important."
"What you signed applies to every time you come here."
"Then I won't come back."
"Very well." He stepped aside. "You may leave."
For some reason, everything inside her rebelled against the very idea of walking out. And she couldn't quite figure out why.
Oriana. You're just worried about Oriana.
"I'm not going anywhere until I see my sister." She put her hands on her hips. "Things will be very unpleasant at work if you won't be reasonable."
"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 mo
re 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."
Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) Page 3