Delayed Penalty (The Dartmouth Cobras #5)

by Bianca Sommerland

  “Yes.” Oh yes. And she loved him so much more for wanting to give Dominik that much. “I-I can say nothing but yes.”

  “That’s all I need, babe.” The sound of Cort unzipping his jeans made her breath catch. The rip of a condom wrapper, then a . . . buzzing. A firm, blunt round thing pressed against her clit, and Cort pushed the end of the vibrator between her thighs. If she relaxed, it slipped away from where it needed to be. So she tensed to keep it there even as he kissed his way down her spine. The sound of a zipper had her anticipating . . . anticipating . . .

  Cort stood and his footsteps receded a few paces. Dominik stepped up to her side. The hot raindrop lick of the flogger hit the fleshy part of her ass. She jerked, struggling to hold on to the vibrator as the flogger hit her twice more.

  “Move your wrist like this and control where each strike falls.” Dominik’s hands curved over her butt cheek, several inches apart. “See if you can hit between my hands.”

  Pure torture. Dominik had Cort flog the same area over and over until the stinging sensation almost overpowered the forceful pleasure of the vibrator. Then he moved to the other side, correcting Cort when the lashes didn’t fall right. Dominik’s fingers dug into her flesh every time she wiggled, keeping her from giving in to her need to reach the building climax. She half wanted to beg, to cry that it was too hard to keep waiting while Dominik gave his lesson, but the submissive part of her took over. Drowned out the impatience. Brought her to the sweet, calm, giving place that was so much more fulfilling than surrendering to rash urges.

  She stilled under Dominik’s hand, practically glowing from the inside out as he stroked her butt and whispered words of approval she couldn’t quite make out. But she didn’t need the words. She could sense how pleased he was. Feel the atmosphere in the room change as Cort’s confidence grew.

  The heat covering her skin as the flogging continued sank in deeper and deeper. As the lashes came a little harder, she became more aware of her tight, sore little clit, almost overstimulated at this point. Her senses drifted to the scent of leather and sweat. The aroma of light, fresh cologne and pure masculine musk. She could taste the saltiness of her own sweat on her lips, breathe in the scent of sex.

  Her arousal bloomed like a flower of flame, and she took slow breaths to tamp it down. Her hair was wet and cool against her cheeks, and she dropped her head down to keep it out of her eyes. The hands she pressed flat against the ground were slippery. Focusing on these little things kept her from letting go. From taking what wasn’t hers.

  Dominik—no, Cort, would tell her when he wanted her release.

  “Such a good girl.” Cort bent down behind her, turning off the vibrator. He kissed one blazing hot butt cheek. “If that didn’t earn a pass, I don’t know what will.”

  She bit back a groan as he gently took the vibrator away. Any movement came close to setting her off, but she wouldn’t let go. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “How you doing, Tiny?” Cort pressed his fingertips into the fire covering her ass, causing it to flare up. “Sore?”

  “Oh, no. No pain. Nothing but you.” Would he understand what she meant? Her fuzzy brain wanted to know, but he’d tell her if she’d done bad. But she knew she hadn’t. The knowledge made her smile. “I didn’t fail.”

  “No, you didn’t. You’re definitely an asset to this school.” Dominik knelt in front of her, his curved hand on her cheek bringing her head up. “Is your mouth dry? Can you tell me if you need a minute?”

  Need a minute? As in stop? Panic almost took hold, but a quiet voice in her head told her it was all right for him to ask. All she had to do was answer to let him know she wasn’t too far gone to continue. It took an effort to get the words out. “I don’t need anything, Sir. I want to stay here.”

  Cort smoothed his hands over her sides. The ropes on her thighs suddenly loosened and fell away. Those around her wrists quickly followed. “She sounds different. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was drunk.”

  “She’s doing well. Floating a little in subspace, but not so much that you have to worry about taking advantage of her.”

  “So she could say no if this wasn’t something she wanted?”

  “Yes and no. She’s more in tune to your pleasure than her own, but that’s not a bad thing. She’s completely surrendered to her trust in us both, and she won’t regret anything that happens.”

  The men’s voices were clear, and she understood what they were saying, but none of it shifted her from the breezy, relaxed feeling of being exactly where she needed to be. The moisture in her mouth matched the hot slickness down low and told her she was ready for them. More than ready.

  All the emptiness ached. But then Cort said something to her and she felt him, thick and hard, pushing into her. A slick, stretching glide and he settled in as deep as he could, his fist positioned at the base of his cock. He reached down to pull her bra up above her breasts, squeezing one as he eased in and out.

  “I can go now. You’ve proven yourself to be competent, despite how new you are.” Dominik leaned over to press a light kiss on her lips as she gasped at the slow drag of Cort’s dick. “She’s all yours.”

  Cort stopped moving, petting along the arch of her back, his tone low and firm. “We started this scene together, and I know her well enough to say she won’t feel right if you walk out without . . . a token of our gratitude.”

  Dominik chuckled. “A token? Most men wouldn’t offer up a ‘token’ from their girlfriend so freely.”

  “What about most Doms?” Cort slid out almost all the way, then thrust in so hard her lips parted at the violent rush of pleasure. “Give him your mouth, Tiny.”

  Yes! She kept her lips parted, not sure she could love Cort any more than she did right now. This had all begun with Dominik, her ability to be touched. To feel passion without feeling dirty and afraid. It ending with nothing but a few kisses and touches would leave her feeling like things were left . . . not quite unsaid, but unexpressed. She couldn’t take all Dominik had given her without giving something back.

  Something only she could give. He could have a thousand subs who would never thank him in a way that had him looking back and smiling at the memories. She needed him to be able to do that when he thought of her.

  The one thing about Dominik she’d never questioned was how quickly he could really see what she needed when she was in full giving mode. Without speaking again, he unlaced his leathers, freeing his fully erect dick. He held her jaw and guided himself between her lips. She savored the taste of him, hot and slightly salty and sweet. He always tasted fresh, like a gulp from a sun-heated spring. But it was the way he held her gaze as he glided into her mouth that was her true reward. As though he understood why she was doing this.

  Which let her fall into the pleasure the two men gave her. The giving, the receiving, the amazing place where she could simply go with it all. Cort matched Dominik’s pace as it grew rougher, faster. And she sped toward climax as though she’d just taken a dive off a board high above a pool that would be tranquil until she made contact. But the fall came in slow motion, her desire to offer up her release rather than take it prolonging her body’s crash into the water below.

  “Tell her.” Dominik made a gruff sound in his throat as he thrust into her mouth. “Tell her to come.”

  Cort latched on to her hip with one hand, moving faster. “But a woman can’t just come on demand. She needs me to—”

  “This one can. She won’t until you do.”

  I won’t! I can’t! She couldn’t let her body’s betrayal take over. Her pleasure had to come from the man she gave herself to. Willingly. Because if not—

  “Akira, show me.” Cort pistoned in and out, spreading her open, grinding out each word. “Show me what he’s taught you. Show me that you can give me that part of you, that you can’t hold back anymore.”

  A request, rather than a command, but her mind didn’t get a say in this. She clamped her lips down on Dominik, swallowing as he came,
her eyes tearing as her body crashed into wave after wave of viscous pleasure, more like diving into the ocean during a storm than a pool from any height. She was grateful when Dominik pulled away, because she could let out the scream that reminded her that she could breathe. That she wouldn’t drown in the sensations threatening to drag her under.

  But it wasn’t enough until she felt Cort’s dick pulsing inside her with his own release. Only then was she completely satisfied. Sated.

  And drained.

  Her legs were wobbly as Cort hauled her to her feet. He seemed to notice, because he picked her right up and sat her in his lap as he sat behind the teacher’s desk.

  Dominik pulled a bottle of water from the top drawer and handed it to Cort. Then dropped a bag of Hershey’s Kisses on the desk before him. “She never really needs it, but she enjoys being fed some treats after a scene.” He bent down as she curled up in Cort’s lap. “Thank you, pet. The next time I see you, I will be no different than any Dom here who’s not yours, but we will always have this.”

  She laid her head on Cort’s shoulder, feeling a little drowsy, but so happy. Smiling, she let out a contented sigh. “Not like any other Dom, but not mine. And it’s okay, because you’ll belong to someone special. Like I do.”

  “You do.” Dominik moved toward the door, pausing for an instant to return her smile. “I feel good about leaving you with him, but if you ever need me . . .”

  There was no doubt in her as she nodded, her eyes drifting shut. Cort’s hard chest under her, his arms around her, made this the perfect place to be. Not only now, but always. “I feel good knowing you’re there. For us both.”

  But after Dominik was gone, even as she giggled while Cort fed her the chocolate and made sure she sipped the water, one thought haunted her. Who would be good enough for the man she’d called “Sir” when every other man scared her so much? She had to be as accepting of whoever he chose as he’d been for her.

  Only . . . would he ever choose anyone? Or would he simply keep giving without asking for anything lasting in return? That was one thing she couldn’t give him. That he’d never asked from her. Because he’d chosen once. And ended up with nothing.

  At least she’d left him with something, but he deserved so much more.

  He’ll get it. He has to. She nuzzled her face into Cort’s neck, happy that she’d found the one that she could give the more to. Because he deserved it too.

  And seemed to read exactly where her thoughts were at.

  “A man like him won’t be alone long, Tiny. Not with all he has to offer.” Cort kissed her forehead and fed her some chocolate that had begun to melt between his fingers as she was lost in thought. “As soon as he allows it, he’ll have someone who can make him happy.”

  “As happy as we are?” Akira’s mind was perfectly clear now. Which left her fixated on absolutely everyone being happy and—okay, maybe she was still floating a little. She was grateful that Cort was so comfortable to cuddle with. That he made getting up and annoying everyone with her idealistic haze a to-do-later thing. “Sorry, I’m in a spreading the joy mood.”

  “Good, because so am I.” Cort chuckled as she tipped her head back and raised one eyebrow. “Hey, you think you’re the only one wondering if it’s okay to go out there smiling? With how things went with the . . .” Guilt darkened Cort’s eyes, and what he said next made it seem like he thought he had much more control than he did. “With the last game. Damn. You made me forget, Tiny. People put that stuff aside here?”

  “Sometimes.” She grinned because it was sweet that Cort was worried about the players who were present tonight. He wasn’t a fan, so he was either worried because of her or . . . or Ford. She wrinkled her nose as she considered what Ford was doing tonight. Was he practicing with the whip? Doing a scene with a pretty little newbie sub who was all impressed with all he’d learned? She didn’t see him too worried about the loss. Like every other night, he’d be the chatty bartender all the girls flocked to. Or the Dom-in-training all the subs wanted to experiment with.

  For a second, she wondered if he’d watched her leave with Cort and Dominik. If it had bothered him.

  Because she didn’t want it to. She didn’t want any reaction from him at all.

  She wanted him to move on. Really. It would be best if he did.

  “Some are better with the losses.” She took a deep breath as she fixed her clothes and pushed off Cort’s lap, even though she wanted to stay right there all night. “Some hold on and get all bitter. It’s kinda sad to see.”

  Cort stood and caught her wrists, studying her face. “Does that bother you? We could go back to my place. Or yours. I know you’re invested in the team. I don’t want anything to ruin where you’re at now. Seeing them—”

  She shook her head. Seeing Ford all pissy about the loss wouldn’t bother her at all. And if he was sulking behind the bar, she’d just handle it like she always did. She’d ignore him. He didn’t have the power to take her out of her happy place. “I’m good. More than good. Because of you.”

  “Any Dom that don’t like to hear that?”

  “None that I know of.” She kept close to Cort as they left the theme room, positive nothing could ruin her good mood.

  Until she saw that Ford was perfectly fine. Without her. And crossing boundaries he shouldn’t. And wouldn’t again, if she had a say.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ford would never see breath strips the same way again. He almost grinned as he recalled the way the pretty, bound sub had moaned as he let it melt on her clit under his tongue, but the tears now soaking through his T-shirt made him feel like a jerk for even thinking about smiling. The scene had ended with her using her safeword after Pischlar slid a small butt-plug-shaped piece of ginger into her ass.

  Apparently, some found it pleasurable, and she’d been all for trying it, but it was just too much for her. So now both he and Pischlar were sitting on a sofa near the bar, doing their best to comfort her. Pischlar wanted to take her home to soak in a bath and get rid of the lingering pain. She refused to budge. Seemed moving only made it burn more. So she’d curled up on Ford’s lap while Pischlar spoke softly to her and petted her hair.

  Poor thing. Hope it goes away soon.

  Only once her tears had stopped did she lift her head, giving Ford a shaky smile. “Sorry for being such a baby about this. I liked everything else.”

  “Don’t even worry about it, Sahara.” Ford kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you wanted to play even though it didn’t go so well. You looked so sad before.”

  She wrinkled her nose and glanced over at an intense whipping scene being led by the Cobra’s new owner. Keane had paused the scene when Sahara had safeworded, giving Pischlar a hard look, then a nod of approval when the other Dom efficiently ended the scene and began aftercare, but Ford didn’t think telling Sahara about that would do her any good now. It wasn’t a secret that she had a thing for the older man. Or that Keane had no interest in taking her on. The man tended to choose experienced subs closer to his own age.

  Sahara obviously wasn’t beneath his notice, but she might as well be. She didn’t need a reminder that Keane was looking out for her the same way he would any sub here. Doing scenes with other Doms rather than just watching them all was a good first step away from wanting someone she couldn’t have.

  Except that step had turned into more of a trip.

  “Is it horrible that I want to stay? I feel a bit better.” She cleared her throat. “I really like watching. Imagining what I could be—” She cleared her throat again. “Ah—”

  “Is your mouth dry, sweetie?” Ford let his grin loose as Sahara ducked her head and nodded. “You wanna stay with Pischlar while I—”

  “No! Don’t go—” Sahara made a face and rolled her eyes. “I am so pathetic.”

  “Stop that.” He felt a bit better knowing his holding her was helping. “You want Pischlar here too?”

  Pischlar smiled and stood. “I’ll just be a sec, pet, then—�
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  “Ugh, I’m hopeless. It’s just . . . I did the scene with both of you. I . . . having you both here all calm and being so sweet makes me feel like I didn’t screw up too bad.”

  “Can’t say I don’t like hearing that.” Pischlar kissed her shoulder, then called out. “Akira, can you get us a bottle of water, honey?”

  One look at Akira’s narrowed eyes before she strode off to the bar had Ford’s pulse picking up a notch. She isn’t fucking pissed off, is she? He caught Cort’s eye as his friend stopped short, watching Akira as she got the bottle of water. Cort frowned and seemed to inhale very, very slowly. He moved to cut Akira off as she returned.

  “Akira—”

  “Excuse me, Sir.” Akira sidled past Cort.

  Ford eased Sahara out of his lap into Pischlar’s, standing before Akira could get too close. He wasn’t sure what her problem was, but Sahara didn’t need to be in the line of fire. “Hey, is there something—”

  Akira slammed the bottle of water into his chest. “Here’s your fucking water. And—and I hate you again. How could you say all that shit to me, then do this?”

  This? He had no clue what she was talking about, but that really wasn’t the issue right now. He took the water, his lips thinning as he met her flashing eyes. “Go home, Akira.”

  “Don’t play the Dom with me, Ford.” Akira hissed out a breath, speaking low. “Does she know you only became a Dom to get with me? That you’re using her to—”

  “Not another word, shorty.” He moved toward her, forcing her back a few paces, surprised that Cort hadn’t stepped in yet. Or even Dominik, who was within hearing of her little outburst. “I am a Dom here. I earned the position. And I’m in the middle of aftercare.”

  Behind him, he heard Sahara whisper Akira’s name.