Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2)

by Bianca Sommerland

  "Whatever." Jami grabbed her orange juice and headed back to her room. "Give me five minutes and I'll be out of here. Hopefully you two can restrain yourselves that long."

  Dean ground his teeth and pressed his eyes shut as her door slammed. Neither he nor Silver moved until Jami returned, moments later, and stormed out of the house.

  His apology froze on his lips as Silver's chair scraped across the tiles and she went to toss the banana peel in the trash. She licked her fingertips, her tone light as she fetched her things. Almost completely detached, except she was shaking like she'd had too much coffee. "Sorry about that. I should have kept my mouth shut. You should go after her. I'll—"

  "Silver, sit." When she immediately sat, he let himself breathe. "I'm sorry. She's been relatively pleasant over the last few days. I wasn't expecting this. You did absolutely nothing wrong."

  "I'm four years older than her—she'd resent her dad's girlfriend lecturing no matter what, but—"

  "'Her dad's girlfriend?'" He braced one hand on the table beside her and wrapped her ponytail around the other. With a light tug he forced her head back. "Is that what you are, Silver?"

  "That's not what I meant."

  "Are you sure?" Bending down, he kissed the edge of her lips, chuckling when she tried to turn her head for more. "Be still. I'm still waiting for an answer."

  She latched onto his shirt with both hands and strained against his grip on her hair. "If you don't kiss me, I'm going to hurt you."

  "So demanding." He chuckled again, gliding his lips to her ear, letting her feel the scruff on his jaw lightly scrape her soft cheek. "You know that's not how it works with me."

  "Dean . . . ." Her pulse quickened under his tongue as he sucked on the delicate flesh of her throat. "Please."

  "Much better." He caged her chin in his hand. "Open."

  As her lips parted he gently pulled on her bottom lip with his teeth, increasing the pressure a little more as she gasped, rewarding her with a shallow thrust of his tongue as she trembled with the effort to hold still. Her tongue flicked out to meet his and he pulled away.

  Rather than object, she let out a little sigh and let her eyes drift shut.

  "Have I told you lately how beautifully." He traced her top lip with his thumb. "Submissive." He pushed his thumb into her mouth, tempting her to suck on it by pressing down on her tongue. "You are?" Her lips and tongue remained passive to his invasion, but her breaths sped up to a pant as he whispered to her. "I won't fuck you. But I will kiss you since you asked so nicely."

  * * * *

  Sweet and hot and all that Silver wanted. Somehow, with just a bit of pressure under her jaw, Dean brought her to her feet and had her body flush against his in a firm, one armed embrace. As he stole all the strength from her body with one long kiss, she reached up to find something to hold on to, hesitating before clasping her hands around the back of his neck.

  "Go ahead." He slid one hand around her waist and under her shirt, pressing against the small of her back to support her. "Hold on tight."

  No man had ever said that to her unless he was about to give her a rough ride, but what Dean did with just his lips and tongue on her mouth fired up every nerve ending, until she melted, evaporated, would have floated away if she hadn't anchored herself to him. His tongue caressed hers, guiding it in a slow, deep kiss, his fist in her hair pulling just a little whenever she tried to take over or speed up. Each inhale heated up as their ragged breaths mingled between them. And at the very moment when she couldn't take any more, his lips left hers and returned to her throat.

  Desperate little whimpers escaped her. Her nipples tightened and jabbed into his unyielding chest. He bit her hard and the sharp pain folded her knees and almost completely undid her. If he didn't take her now she would go completely insane.

  "Silver, you will focus on breathing and my words." He lowered her to a chair and pressed a finger to her lips before she could scream or beg. "Breathing first."

  Breathing? I'll give you fucking breathing! She breathed through her nose hard and fast. Which made her sound like an angry bull. She made herself stop.

  "Much better." His eyes creased and he gently stroked her swollen lips with his fingers. "I need you to know I want you, pet, so much that it's painful, but we will wait until tomorrow night. It will be worth it. Can you trust me?"

  Her lips curled bitterly as his fingers left them. "Trust you? You just got me all worked up for nothing! I'm tired of you playing with me!"

  "I'm not playing with you." His jaw ticked as he shoved away from her. "I suppose I should apologize again. The kiss was a mistake."

  A mistake? She frowned. Mind-blowing. Frustrating, maybe. But not a mistake. She bit her lip as he moved across the kitchen, taking out a frying pan and several mixing bowls. She expected him to slam them, but besides some rigidity in the set of his shoulders, he seemed utterly calm.

  "Are you allergic to strawberries? Nuts?" He leaned into the fridge, speaking without looking at her.

  "No. I don't think I have any allergies." She stood and approached him cautiously. "Umm . . . can I help?"

  "Do you know how to beat eggs?" He held out a carton.

  She snorted and took it. "Of course I do. How many do you need?"

  "Two."

  At the counter, Silver palmed two eggs and spoke lightly as she looked around for something to break them with. "Ah, where are you knives?"

  "Just use the edge of the bowl."

  The cook that had worked for Daddy when she was a little girl always used a blunt knife. But people on TV used Dean's method, so it shouldn't be too hard. She hit the egg on the edge of the bowl and groaned as half the egg and shell ended up in the bowl, and the other half on the counter.

  She glanced over her shoulder to where Dean was slicing apples at the table. "Can I have a spoon?"

  "A spoon?" He set down the knife and stood. "What—"

  "I've got it!" She hunched over the mess and shifted from side to side as he tried to see around her. "Just pass me a spoon." Her elbow slipped in some egg slime. "Eww. And a towel."

  He folded his arms over his chest and gave her 'The Look'. "Silver."

  She shivered, but the grossness dripping down her arm stole some of the effect he had on her. She mimicked his tone. "Dean."

  Shaking his head, he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. His eyes took in the yolk on her shirt and her hands. His lips quirked. "Have you ever cooked anything before?"

  Damn it, you had to ask. Her brow creased as she stared at her feet. He's going to think I'm a spoiled little princess.

  Most people did, not that she cared, but it was different with Dean.

  "Don't make me repeat myself, Silver."

  She stomped her foot and glared at him. "No, all right? I've never cooked for myself. I don't know how to clean or wash clothes or do anything."

  "Now I know that's not true." His head titled slightly. "I figured you weren't the domestic type, but you don't do any of your own cleaning?"

  "I'm not a slob or anything—I just, well, I pay someone to tidy up my condo twice a week."

  "And what do you eat?"

  Shrugging, she brought her fingers to her mouth and chewed on the flesh along her thumbnail. "Cedric cooks sometimes."

  "Really?" He shook his head and pushed her hand down. "You're a horrible liar, little one. I think all that acting for the camera makes your face even easier to read. Must make sure every nuance is picked up."

  Just to prove him wrong, she shifted her expression into one of pure bliss. "Honestly, Cedric is a wonderful cook. Why, just last week he made a stew and I completely forgot about my diet and stuffed my face until I was ready to burst!"

  Dean's brow furrowed and his lips drew into a thin line as he studied her face. "I stand corrected."

  She smirked and gave him a mock bow. "Thank you."

  "But I still know you're lying."

  "Yeah right." Letting out an aggravated huff, she went to the s
ink and snatched the rag hanging over the faucet to clean up the egg. "You're guessing."

  "True. I am making an educated guess on what I know." He came up behind her and slid his hands into the back pockets of her jeans. "You never had dinner with Asher and Cedric at home. Maybe Cedric cooked for Asher, but never for you."

  Her spine stiffened. How did he know?

  "Not that it matters." He kissed the nape of her neck. "I'd be happy to cook for you."

  "I want to learn to do it for myself." She tilted her head to one side as he nibbled up the length of her throat. "But you did promise me breakfast."

  "That I did." His warm breath sent tingles over her moist flesh. "Go take your shower. I'll finish up here."

  Shower. Yes, a nice long cold—throbbing between her thighs cut her off—no hot shower. And a few minutes to take care of . . . her breath hitched as she pictured him joining her. Oh yeah, with that image in her head, it shouldn't take long. "Okay. You finish and I'll—"

  "There's something I need to do first." He moved his hands, flattening one on her stomach while the other covered her aching breasts. He deftly undid her jeans and slid his fingers into her panties. "I thought so."

  Oh, God! His fingertips slipped over her clit and a shock of pleasure had her writhing against him.

  "This should tide you over until tomorrow night." He bit her and thrust deep inside her, curving his fingers until he found the trigger to set her off. Holding her tight as she bucked and cried out, he withdrew his fingers almost completely, speaking over her moaning protests. "Much too easy. Give me another, pet. I want to hear you scream."

  She almost screamed right then. Her clit pulsed and swelled and wet heat flooded his palm. He worked three fingers into the tight confines of her jeans, prodding gently at first, slicking them up, then pushing until she opened for him. He pinched her nipple through her shirt and drove his fingers in as far as they would go, then strained as her body resisted.

  "Still so tight. Relax, I want to see how much you can take."

  All of it! She wanted to take all of it! His fingers were thick and skilled, but she remembered how it felt to have his dick pounding into her and she wanted that now. Her insides convulsed around his fingers and she twisted as he teased her opening with all four.

  "Brace your hands on the counter."

  Her hands slapped the counter and she almost fell forward as he released her. Her thighs quivered as he jerked her jeans down and removed them. Finally. Finally he would fuck her.

  "Look at that beautiful ass." She heard him kneel behind her and tensed up as he sank his teeth into one butt cheek.

  What was he—

  Her nails scratched the counter as he cupped her pussy. "Spread your thighs as wide as you can."

  Lost in the moment, she obeyed. Whimpered as he filled her with all his fingers. And bowed her spine as he slapped her thigh.

  "You're not ready for fisting, but with some work . . . ." He grunted as he pressed his knuckles against her pussy. "Jesus, you're so hot and wet. I want to taste you."

  He thrust one last time, hard enough that she screamed as the climax ripped through her. He lifted her up so her thighs balanced on his shoulders. Her arms shuddered under the strain as his tongue speared her. Fiery spikes shot deep inside, over and over with each thrust of his tongue. His fingers dug into the back of her thighs and vibrations brought the erotic sensations to a fierce boiling ecstasy as he groaned into her pussy.

  Her palms slipped on the counter and she was sure she'd crack her head and knock herself out. But he caught her just in time and cradled her in his arms.

  "There we go. Shh." He kissed her forehead and rocked her as she buried her face into his chest. "You ruined my plans for this morning, sweetheart, but I just can't seem to keep my hands off you."

  "I don't want you to." She flicked her tongue out to taste the beads of sweat glistening on his steel wrought pecs. Sweet mother, the man was hot. In more ways than one. She let her hand drift down to his crotch and squeezed his very erect cock. "But I still don't understand—"

  "You want more?" He sounded so surprised she wanted to say yes. But she was too sore.

  "I will, just give me a bit." She wiggled off his lap and winced when her butt hit the tiles. "Ouch! How hard did you bite me?"

  He grinned as he stood and held out his hand. "Hard enough to leave a mark. Does that bother you?"

  Surprisingly, it didn't. She wouldn't be doing nude shots anytime soon and, as her body adjusted to the lightly throbbing bruise, she found she kind of liked it.

  Weird.

  "What was that look?"

  No way. Do not tell him. "What look?"

  "Like you're savoring something." He covered her ass cheek with a hand and squeezed. "This, perhaps?"

  She yelped. Then bit back a groan as the throbbing intensified. "No. I was thinking about that shower."

  "I'm sure." He sighed. "We'll work on this truth thing. I would punish you for lying now, but I'm pleased with you."

  "Why?"

  "Because you took what I gave you and didn't ask me to fuck you once."

  Holding her tongue between her teeth, she picked up her jeans and moved to put them on. "What's the point? You already told me you wouldn't."

  He put his hand on her wrist before she could pull her jeans on. "Strip here, Silver. I want to see you. I think I've earned the pleasure."

  Dropping her jeans, she straightened and gave him a sly smile. "I think you're right."

  Her hips swayed to a sultry song in her head as she peeled off her t-shirt and tossed it aside. Unlatching her bra, she turned away from him, backing up until her butt rubbed against his erection. She let her bra fall and arched to look up at him, moulding her breasts with her hands as he stared.

  "Don't you wish you didn't have to wait?" She smirked and sauntered away from him.

  He yanked her back by the wrist and bent her over the table.

  Whack!

  "You cockmunching son-of-a-bitch!" She howled as he smacked her again. "Stop! Ow!"

  "Behave, Silver." Another hard slap struck her inner thigh when she tried to kick him. "I would have stopped at one for the sass, but I do not tolerate insults."

  "You better get used to it, limp-dick!"

  "Limp-dick?" He laughed and ground himself hard against her already sore ass. "Sweetheart, I am never 'limp' around you."

  Oh oh oh! Sore as she was, her insides clenched at the idea of having him inside her again. Maybe another verbal shove would do the trick. "Well you're a fucking asshole anyway."

  He sighed. "I think you enjoy being spanked too much for it to be a very effective punishment. Don't move."

  For a few seconds, she stayed in that position, face down on his table, staring at the bowl of sliced apples which for some reason hadn't turned brown. Just as he returned, she realized she'd done what he'd told her to and tried to fix that by skirting away.

  Something hit her, hard, and her breath caught in her throat. That wasn't his hand.

  He laid the flogger on the table. "Don't make me use it again, pet."

  Something wet squirted between her ass cheeks. Her eyes went wide. "No. Oh hell no!"

  "Brace yourself."

  Cold. Hard. Big. Pressing against her asshole. "I said no!"

  Dean's big hand massaged the sorest spot on her butt. "Have you forgotten your safeword, pet?"

  "No I haven't fucking forgotten."

  The flogger disappeared. Crack! She grunted through her teeth as her body absorbed the sting.

  "Manners," Dean said.

  "I haven't fucking forgotten, sir!" Really? Then say it!

  So twisted, but she really didn't want to. Her eyes teared up as the big thing—probably a butt plug—was forced into her. Burning, burning, then a plop as it was seated snuggly.

  "There we go." He pulled her to her feet. "Take your shower and leave it in. I may take it out before you sit down to eat if you tell me how sorry you are."

  "I'm not sorry."<
br />
  He frowned as though frustrated with her response. "You know what, I believe you. I may have been very wrong about you. Do whatever you want."

  Fine, I will. Not like it mattered what he thought. She laughed in his face and scampered to the bathroom before he could use the flogger again. The plug was just big enough for discomfort, but nothing she couldn't handle. He should have gone for a bigger size if he really wanted to punish her.

  Size didn't matter much as the heavy plug weighed on the snug ring of muscles. Irritating, but worse, a constant reminder of how things had shifted from their talking and then their lusty play. Under the hot spray she felt her defiance wash away. Part of her wanted to push him, to test him, but . . .

  But what?

  The way he'd looked at her, that disappointment, which only darkened after she'd laughed, ruined everything. Maybe she'd pushed him too far. She didn't want him to stop caring.

  Why? He's not your Master. You don't want a Master.

  Well, playing with one once in awhile might be interesting.

  Find another one. Shouldn't be that hard.

  But, she didn't want another one.

  She wanted Dean.

  Which scared the hell out of her. Dean was too intense. Too . . . real. Who knew how far she'd go with him at the club if she went there and let him dominate her. What if he proved that she was submissive? What then?

  Her fingers, slick with some fresh spring scented soap, found the tiny bumps on her ass where he'd bitten her.

  What if I just get off on the pain?

  Only one way to find out. For now, she could submit to him—another hour wouldn't kill her. Then tomorrow she would test her pain theory. With someone a little less . . .

  Uber Dom! She giggled and finished washing. After drying off, she cracked the door open and called out. "Sir?"

  Dean came to the door and arched a brow at her.

  "I'm really, truly sorry. Calling you names was immature and rude. I mean, you invited me for breakfast and gave me a fucking amazing orgasm and—"

  "All right, that's enough, pet." He shook his head and backed her into the bathroom. "Apology accepted. Grovelling doesn't suit you."

  "Then—"

  "Hands on the bathtub."