* * * *
Heat and steam, scented with some delicate flower, like baby's breath. Silver sighed and let herself slip a little further into the bath as Dean massaged her scalp and lathered her hair with the fragrant shampoo. His fingers pressed and rubbed and she felt herself relax from where he touched, down to the soles of her feet. The only tension that remained was sexual, but he'd already made it clear she'd have to wait for that relief.
Her eyes slitted open and she watched the tea candles around the bath flicker, the only light in the darkness. Dean had an old fashion iron tub on lion feet, so deep and wide she could picture them both fitting in here quite comfortably. As he moved down to mold the muscles at the base of her skull she moaned. The pleasure was decadent, wonderful—but desire burned a constant flame, almost painful, almost too much.
"Soon, my love." Dean used the extendable showerhead to rinse her hair. "All right. All done. You can get out now."
Shaking hard, even though the room wasn't cold, she rose and closed her eyes as droplets dripped from her hair and teased her sensitized skin. She stepped out of the bath and gave Dean a grateful smile as he wrapped her up in a big fluffy towel. He kept an arm around her as he led her to his bedroom. He sat her on the bed and used another towel to dry her hair. Then he sat behind her and used a wide bristle brush to smooth out her damp tresses.
"I think we'll leave it loose tonight." He moved in front of her and smiled. "Yes. Absolutely beautiful. Stand up so I can dress you."
Silent as she'd been since dinner, when he'd informed her she wouldn't speak again until he told her she could, she watched him take out a pale pink lace babydoll and a matching g-string. His fingers grazed her neck and her sides as he put it on her, causing tiny flames to lick her flesh. When he had her step into the panties and began sliding them up her thighs, she tensed and gasped.
Oh, god! She whimpered as the soft lace covered her. I can't do this anymore. I can't!
"Silver, look at me." Dean cupped her cheeks and held her gaze until she regained control. "There. That's better." He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. "I won't let you spoil this for yourself by taking the easy way out. Two days may seem like a long time, but a week would be worse. Think about that before you let yourself slip."
She nodded and his smile returned, broad and full of the approval she craved. He was right. She could do this.
You better. She thought as she smiled back at him. You couldn't survive a week.
Dean brought her a pair of strappy white sandals, slipped them on her feet, then covered her with a large leather jacket. He was already dressed in leather pants and a snug black t-shirt. They were both ready for the night.
Almost.
His toy bag sat by the door and he reached inside it, pulling out a leather collar and matching wrist cuffs. He held out the collar for her to see the words engraved in it. 'Master Dean's Dragonfly'.
"Tha—" Her eyes widened and she snapped her lips shut. No talking.
"Nice save, sweetie." Dean grinned as he buckled the collar around her throat. "And you're very welcome."
Strangely enough, the collar and cuffs steadied her, made her feel more controlled. Not by herself of course, but being under Dean's control always felt safe. Even though some small, irritated voice in her head objected to giving in. Objected to being denied. If she'd been permitted to speak, she would have cursed him out. Not having that option left her free to go where he was taking her. Not just to the club, but to something more. She didn't have to argue or fight.
He'd take her where she needed to be.
* * * *
Landon wiped his sweaty palms on his leathers as he caught sight of Richter. The man had called him earlier to let him know about the scene he wanted for Silver. It irked to have another Dom telling him what to do—no, not just another Dom. He got instructions from the Doms he scened with all the time, limits for their subs, tips on sweet spots, all that good stuff. It never bothered him, those Doms had the right to control the scenes.
Richter had the right to control the scene with Silver. And that was the problem. Landon could have had that right if he'd . . .
Drop it, Bower. You don't know that, not really. A large, coarse rope wound around his throat as he watched Richter take Silver's coat and saw the worship in her eyes as she stared up at him. Something was different about her. The way she moved, slowly, as though in a trance. The way she seemed comfortable wearing Richter's collar. The way she tilted her head as he spoke, giving him all her attention.
She's submissive. You knew that. He took a deep breath and went back to setting up for the scene. Richter had reserved the bondage frame for them—something Landon didn't use often. It left the sub fully exposed, with eight eyebolts lined up along the inside of the frame to secure wrists and ankle cuffs, and one over head. A beautiful piece, really, in polished mahogany, solid enough for him to do chin ups on the upper bar without it even shaking—which he'd done earlier to make sure it was safe.
Of course, safety wouldn't be a problem, he knew what he was doing. The problem was Silver would likely bolt the second she spotted him. And there was no way she'd agree to the scene.
You don't know that. She might stay because . . .
Because Richter would command it. And she'd feel compelled to obey.
Tough shit. If she's not okay with it, it's not happening.
As Richter approached with Silver a step behind him, Landon's heart tripped a beat. His blood rushed downwards. He hadn't gotten a good look at her outfit before, but it was impossible not to notice—and react—to it now. Delicate lace covered the gentle swell of her breasts, the almost translucent fabric the same pale pink of the sweet pea flowers on the vines his mother had grown when he was little. The lace parted beneath her ribs and flowed down to the tops of her thighs. A tiny swatch of cloth in the same color covered her pussy, though he could still see the smooth flesh beneath it.
He brought his gaze up to her face to find her eyes cast downwards. Her hair, the color of the winter sun, fell forward, covering her cheeks.
For a second, only divine intervention could have stopped him from taking her and giving her all the pleasure he was capable of, but he leashed his urges and focused on Richter.
Richter took her wrist and pulled her forward until she stood right in front of Landon. "Eyes up, pet."
She looked up. Her bright green eyes narrowed. She pressed her lips together.
"None of that, Dragonfly." Richter's tone was gruff and he kept his gaze locked on Landon as he spoke. "Master Landon is going to do a violet wand session with you. Thank him for being so generous with his time."
The muscles in her jaw twitched.
Richter frowned at her. "Silver—"
"No." Landon held up a hand to Richter and reached out to frame Silver's chin with the other. "We won't do this unless you want to. I agreed to teach your Master."—Damn it, he hated giving that title to another man—"But I can do so with another sub. You can watch. I refuse to do anything that will make you feel uncomfortable."
Her throat worked as she swallowed. She glanced at Richter, then faced Landon. Her chin jutted up. "Thank you for your time, Master Landon. And for your considerate offer." Her lips curled slightly. "But I will do this for my Master."
Not for you. Landon nodded. "I guess that's how it should be."
"You guess?" Her words snapped like the whip in a scene across the room. Her eyes went wide. She looked at Richter again. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize to me." Richter folded his arms over his chest. "Bower is in charge of you now. I would suggest not forcing him to punish you again though, my dear."
Fuck that. All his training, all his experience, rejected the idea, but he'd rather be skinned than punish her tonight. Still holding her chin, he moved in until their bodies almost touched. "I don't need you to apologize. And feel free to speak your mind. I won't punish you."
"I have nothing to say." She held out her wrists. "Let's do this."
And he didn't want her to be perfect. He wanted her, just like this.
The edge of his lip hiked up as he took her wrists and pulled her against him. She let out a cock-hardening gasp.
"Yes, mon petit chaton." He slid his lips along her jaw and whispered in her ear. "Let's."
* * * *
This, this was what all the preparations had been for. Silver bit into her tongue to keep from whimpering as Landon's body pressed against hers. Her nipples jutted out, poking his solid chest, so hard he had to feel it. Her clit pulsed in a tattoo of pure lust.
Lust. That all it was. Dean had gotten her so worked up she'd do just about anyone.
But this was Landon. And damn it she missed him holding her, laughing with her, just being close to her. She inhaled and that familiar scent, sweat and some kind of soap that smelled like spring, filled her. Her skin tingled and she scowled.
All physical reactions. No big deal. Just another demonstration, like the one he did with that nasty couple. Nothing special.
But one of those stupid little voices she'd locked up after he'd proved how very much she meant to him objected and she had to move away from Landon. Put some space between them before that voice reminded her how much she needed to mean something to him.
He didn't let her get far. His grip on her wrists wasn't tight, but he held on when she tugged. "No, Silver. There's only one way to stop this scene." His jaw hardened. "What's your safeword?"
"Red," she said, rolling her eyes. "And I'll use it if I have to."
"Good. And you may use yellow if you're overwhelmed, but don't want to end the scene."
"Got it. Not that I'll have a reason to. Dean is here and I trust him to keep me safe." She sneered at his wince, but his reaction didn't satisfy her. She wanted to hurt him like he'd hurt her. She wanted to slap him like she had when he'd kissed her. She wanted to scream at him. But if she did that here Dean would have to punish her. And that wouldn't help her . . . situation. But one last little jab would feel damn good. "Please get on with it, Master Landon. Unless you think another Dom could do a better job with me than you can. Doesn't make a damn bit of difference to me."
Since 'My master' has decided to let me play with another man. It almost hurt, but they'd discussed this. Better Landon than Sebastian . . . maybe. Better anyone than Landon really. But she trusted Dean's motives. And she would prove to him that she didn't need anyone else. No matter who he marched in front of her. Be it Landon or the whole damn team. It doesn't matter.
"Doesn't it?" Landon's lips twitched. "Fine. Hey, Demyan! Nice of you to stop by. How you liking the place so far?"
A masculine chuckle, right behind her. Then Scott stepped up to her side. "I wasn't sure at first. Seen some things that creeped me out a bit, but . . . ." His gaze ran over her, stripping her, one inch of lace at a time. Looking at her like men had since she'd gotten old enough to be worth looking at. "Silver, my brain just went blank. You—"
"Went blank?" Silver let out a light, airy laugh. "Scott, I'd be flattered if I didn't know there wasn't much there to begin with."
Scott frowned and looked over at Dean who'd propped his shoulder against the side of the frame. "Isn't she supposed to respect me or something?"
"You're not a Dom here yet, Demyan." Dean shrugged. "Besides, Bower is in charge of the scene and he's given her permission to speak her mind." Dean's gaze fixed on her. "I'll step in if she goes too far."
Aren't you fucking sweet?
"Speaking of becoming a Dom, Demyan, how would you like to give me a hand strapping her to the frame?" Landon took one of her wrists and held it out to Scott. "Clip her wrist cuffs to the top bolts. I'll get her ankle cuffs."
Scott nodded and moved in, forcing her back into the frame. He spoke low as he clipped one wrist. "You really into all this kinky stuff, Silver? You know you and I could have some fun without this."
"I—" She bit her lip and took him in, still freaking hot, still the type of guy she'd have fucked in a heartbeat back in Hollywood. No strings attached sex. She'd enjoyed it before, why should now be any different? "I don't know."
"Let me help you decide." Scott whispered before brushing his lips over hers. Through the corner of her eye, she saw Dean push away from the frame. Landon moved to her other side as Scott tasted her lips with his tongue and curved his hand under her breast. "All you have to do is tell them you want me."
Want you? She blinked and assessed her body with detached interest. She wasn't dead, so yeah, he turned her on, but wanting him didn't seem to be enough. I want a drink. I want to get fucking stoned. And I want you. But I don't need any of it.
"Scott . . . ." Her flesh craved touch as though the heat within would split it open without. But not from just anyone. "Don't . . . ."
"Oh, sorry, Demyan. I forgot." Landon stepped up behind Scott. "She needs to be naked."
No! The blood left her face and washed cold through her veins. As Scott reached around to undo the halter top of the babydoll, her eyes sought Dean's. He mouthed something.
'Yellow'
"Yellow! Damn you, Landon!" She jerked back as far as her one trapped wrist would allow. "Yellow!"
Landon put his hand on Scott's shoulder. "That means stop and renegotiate, man."
"Ah." Scott retreated. "Doesn't take a genius to figure out why. I don't get to play, do I?"
"No," Dean said before Landon could answer. Then he grinned. "But two of my waitresses have been eying you since you walked in. They've been together for a long time, but they like to use a man on occasion—you don't mind being used, do you?"
Scott threw his head back and laughed. "You need to ask? Just point me in the right direction, boss."
Silver did her best to ignore them. And Landon, who stood in front of her, silently, waiting for something.
Letting out a huff, she reached up to unclip her wrist. "You said you weren't going to punish me."
"Yes. I did." Landon's tone told her nothing. Leaving her only his words to go on. "That wasn't a punishment. That was a lesson. Bad things can happen when you lie to your Dom."
"You're not my Dom."
"Why did you lie to me, Silver?"
Her bottom lip quivered. "You're not my Dom."
"I am right now. So answer me." He blocked her attempt to slip by him and pulled her into his arms, holding her. Warm, solid strength chasing away the chill of how wrong Scott's hands had felt on her. Landon had always felt right. And he always would, damn him! She couldn't take it anymore. She stopped struggling and collapsed into him, thumping his chest weakly with her fist even as he whispered. "Why would you pretend just any man would do? You have two men that love you very much."
"Love me?" Are you fucking kidding me? She sniffed, hating how pathetic she must look. Runny nose, probably all red. Tears in her eyes. All his fault! "You pushed me away. I took the punishment because I knew I fucked up. I needed you to know I got it. That I was sorry! But then you left me there like I was nothing!"
"You had a good man—a better man! I hated punishing you!" He raked his fingers into her hair and kissed her forehead. "What we had was perfect. I didn't want to ruin it. But I did anyway."
"All you had to do was tell me you weren't mad anymore. Maybe give me a hug." Why did he have to make things seem so complicated? She shoved at his chest. "Was that really too much to ask?"
"Would that have been enough?" His eyes held pain, the pain she'd wanted him to feel, the pain she'd seen on the plane, that she'd seen every time he'd looked at her since. But she didn't want it anymore. "I would have held you, told you everything was okay . . . then I would have made love to you. And I couldn't have let you go. I'm not good enough for you."
She had the crazy urge to laugh. Not good enough for me?
"Oh, shut up, you dumb ass." She slipped her hand behind his
neck and dug her fingers into the tense muscles. "How 'bout you let me decide that."
Slamming her lips into his, she drank him in, still angry and damn frustrated, but for a split second, it didn't matter. She had him, right here, right now. After all that thinking she meant nothing to him, only to learn he wanted her as much as she wanted him. And now he was all hers, this stupid man who didn't think he deserved her. She'd make him pay for that. What he'd done to her was nothing compared to what he'd done to himself.
She nipped his bottom lips, then drew away. "Can I ask you something?"
He looked a little dazed. "I told you already. Speak your mind."
With a smug smile, she poked him in between his ribs. "How does a sub punish their Dom? Because you promised to come to me when you needed me."
"You wouldn't accept my phone calls."
"You could have found a way. We're going to have a chat about what was bugging you before you got yourself suspended."
"Yes, ma'am."
"And . . . ." Hell, she might as well take advantage while she had the upper hand. "I want a penance for what you pulled at the club. Foot rubs every morning for a week."
His brow shot up. "You planning to spend a lot of time at Max's place?"
She shrugged. "We have a lot of time to make up for."
Dean cleared his throat. "You called yellow, pet. If you've negotiated enough, it's time for the scene to continue."
Raking her bottom lip with her teeth, she looked over at him, wondering if this bothered him. Maybe there was still some negotiating to do. "You said you wouldn't make me choose. Is this what you meant? I can be a selfish bitch and keep you both?"
He chuckled. "Well, you're certainly not getting rid of me." He cocked his head. "And you may keep him if it pleases you."
"It pleases me." She smiled up at Landon. "If that's okay with you?"
Landon gave her a lazy grin. "I think you've forgotten yourself, pet." His grin widened when she shuddered at the familiar endearment. "You may keep me. But it's my—our." He inclined his head to Dean. "Pleasure you should concern yourself with. I think you've said all you need to say. Silence now. I'd like to enjoy my new little sub without all this chatter."
Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) Page 32