Iron Cross: The Dartmouth Cobras #6 (5 page)

Perhaps Chicklet had enjoyed the novelty of having a bratty sub at first, but she was finally getting tired of it. Or, at least Laura hoped she was. Dealing with the boy had to be exhausting.

“Please, Mistress. I’m sorry
,” Tyler whispered. There was a thunk. He’d probably dropped to his knees. Too little and much too late. “I’ll do anything to make this right.”

Chicklet sighed. Laura could picture her nodding slowly as she spoke. “You do need to be punished, Tyler. Return to me once it’s done.”

What?
Laura had to press her eyelids tight to keep her eyes shut as Tyler repeated her thought out loud. “What?”

“You heard me. Find someone to punish you. I won’t feel right playing with you until you feel better about yourself. It was you who decided you did something wrong. So it will be you who decides
on the penalty.” The sharp click of Chicklet’s heels came closer to Laura, as though she’d turned her back on the boy. “Give him or her your safeword and bring whoever agrees here when you’re done. I will thank them for taking care of you.”

“Chicklet, I—”

“We’re done, Tyler.”

“But—.”

“We. Are. Done.”

Those words, and the sound of the door drifting shut as he left, had to be the sweetest things Laura had ever heard. But she was very careful not to let it show as her Mistress’s hands, her mouth, and her attention, returned.

S
louched back on one of the large, circular leather sofas at prime voyeur spots around the club, Raif observed the scenes around him, taking a long swig from the icy bottle of water he’d had a waitress fetch from the bar. An unfamiliar song pounded through the room, giving all those using floggers and canes and whips a rhythm to play by. The sound alone relaxed Raif. He’d come here several times over the last month, but rarely played. He caught many hope-filled glances from both male and female subs, but only one person held his attention for very long.

And that man was
most definitely not a sub.

Lips slanting slightly, Raif watched Zach bind his wife, Rebecca, to a wide rope swing, admiring the way Zach teased his woman as he positioned her, leaving her helplessly bound and whimpering for his touch.
The couple must have gotten a sitter—perhaps the child staying up late had left Rebecca with the need to unwind? Raif had no idea what the routine of a couple in the lifestyle, one who had a child, would be like. Or sex for any couple, to be honest. Zach had never been a quiet lover, but having a child in the house might have changed that. Clearly the man didn’t need to go to bed early to get up in the morning with his daughter, as Demyan had implied. But Raif had a feeling the dilemma had been brought up for his benefit. He couldn’t imagine Zach falling for a woman who would neglect her child.

He’d always thought Zach would end up with a man, but his love for this woman was clear.
In a way, it made sense that Zach would need the softness of a woman. And yet, still crave the touch of a man. Knowing Zach, Raif suspected that he’d tried to be a “one woman man,” but why had he given in to the temptation? Yes, Raif wouldn’t deny that Scott Demyan was appealing. Physically anyway. And yet, the man had none of the qualities Zach looked for in a lover.

You don’t know him, Zovko. Your reputation isn’t much better than his.

Perhaps, but the very reason Raif and Zach hadn’t lasted was because their opinion of what a relationship consisted of was very different. Or had been at the time. As Raif watched Zach with his wife, as he thought about the woman’s child, one Zach, by all accounts, treated as his own…how could one not want a future like that? Raif’s jaw hardened as he watched Demyan move up behind Zach and kiss Zach’s bare shoulder.

Raif wasn’t the type of man to deny what he felt. He still loved Zach. He’d loved him when he’d been young and stupid,
but he hadn’t realized it then. It had taken seeing Zach again, facing that those feelings remained, to admit he had to earn the love Zach had once given him. He had no doubt he could do so, but he had to be patient.

Rebecca wouldn’t be a problem. Zach was serious about her and Raif accepted that. He would treat her well, show her he could be the man her husband needed. Being a father wasn’t in Raif’s pla
ns, but he smiled as he envisioned himself sitting at a table with the man he loved and his wife and that cute kid. He’d kept the one picture he’d found of Zach with his new daughter. She was the team’s little princess. Plans changed, and it would be no hardship to become a family man for Zach.

Only, Zach smiled when Demyan
pressed against him. Drew Demyan into the scene, tenderness in his eyes as Demyan cupped Rebecca’s breasts and buried his face between them. Being patient was putting it mildly. Demyan belonged to both Zach and Rebecca. He would have to royally fuck up for them to see how much better Raif would fit into their lives.

Until that happened, he would need
a distraction. The years he and Zach had spent apart meant they’d both changed. He could see them becoming close again fairly easily, but they’d been friends before lovers the first time around. Taking the same approach, making sure they had a solid base to build on, would be best. Raif had no intention of ruining Zach’s relationship with Demyan—Demyan could do that all on his own.

But Raif could not appear to be waiting for th
at eventuality. He tore his gaze from the trio, taking a slow drink of water as he watched the Delgado boy being chained to a bondage frame. Ford, yes, that was his name. A Dom who got off on pain. Not quite a novelty, but it was fascinating to watch him offer up one wrist to Callahan, and the other to his best friend, Cort. His sub was on her knees before him, an impish smile on her lips as she unlaced his leathers. Raif’s angle was perfect to see her lick her Master’s cock before opening her mouth wide to swallow him whole.

Lovely.
Raif admired the peaceful expression on her face as she slowly bobbed her head, her gaze never leaving Ford’s face. There was something beautiful about seeing a sub worshipping the one they’d given themselves to. More so when that worship had been earned.

The scene brought a rare sense of longing to Raif. Casual play didn’t
encourage that kind of intimacy. He glanced over at Mason, who was working as a dungeon monitor tonight, and considered how the man had passed some time caring for the very sub servicing Ford. From what he’d heard, Mason had taken on the task because his heart had been broken.

Perhaps Raif could
take on a sub to train because his heart was already taken.

“Coach—I mean, Sir?”

A familiar voice, the voice of a man-child with a face many compared to an angel—Raif smirked at that, fallen angel, maybe—brought his attention back to Ford’s scene. Tyler Vanek knelt at the very edge of the scene, his cheeks red, his head bowed. He still wore the jeans and T-shirt he’d left the locker room in. The hard set to his jaw was anything but submissive.

“
Vanek, go away.” Callahan didn’t even look at the boy. He made an irritated gesture in Tyler’s general direction before handing a short whip to Cort. “We’ve practiced this. You know how it feels. You’ve got good aim. Go for it.”

“Please, Sir.” Tyler slammed his fist into his thigh when Callahan continued to ignore him. “Coach, I need
your help!”

“What the fuck, Vanek? I’m not your coach here.” Callahan moved away from Cort and wrapped his hand around Tyler’s arm, yanking him up to his feet. “I’m training someone. You know better than to interrupt.”

Tyler stared at the floor. “I know, but I really fucked up.”

“You’re fucking up now.”

“Just punish me. Please?” Tyler finally lifted his head. His shoulders dropped. “She won’t take me back until someone punishes me, and if it’s you—”

“What the hell are you taking about
?” Callahan pulled Tyler out of the sceneing area. Lowered his voice, but Raif still heard him because he’d stood and moved toward them without even realizing he was doing so. “You just got here. What did you do?”

The look Tyler gave Callahan was pitiful. He jabbed his teeth into his bottom lip. “See, you know I must have done
something
. Chicklet’s mad at me, and I know why, and I’ve got to make this right.”

“Whatever you did, boy, your Domme needs to punish you.” Callahan laughed, but, surpris
ingly, it wasn’t a cruel laugh—more indulgent than anything. He patted Tyler’s arm. “You don’t want me to do it.”

“Yeah, I do. Because that’s my punishment. She told me to find someone since I think I need to be punished.”

Callahan blinked. “That don’t make no fucking sense.”

“Just do it! I’m begging you!” Tyler tried to drop to his knees again, but Callahan stopped him with a hand under his arm. And Tyler’s eyes went cold. “You owe me.”

“Do I?” Callahan’s tone sharpened. “How do you figure?”

“I let her go. I didn’t have to.” He shoved Callahan, which wasn’t very effective because the bigger man hardly moved. “I have to watch you hurt her here all the time. You like it and it makes me sick. Why don’t you hurt me? Because I’m not a woman and you can’t make me cry?”

Shit.
Raif stepped forward, but didn’t reach them in time to stop Callahan from latching on to the front of Tyler’s shirt and lifting him right off his feet.

“You think I can’t make you cry?”

“Sloan!” Mason strode up to Callahan and grabbed his wrist. “Let him go.”

Callahan laughed as he released Tyler. “
We’re negotiating, Dominik. Don’t worry.”

“Negotiating what? Chicklet would have told me if he
was sceneing with someone else.” Mason put his hand on Tyler’s shoulder, pulling him back closer to where Raif stood. “You’re angry, Sloan. Walk it off or get the fuck out.”

“He was asked to find someone to punish him. By his Mistress.” Callahan bared his teeth. “And I’m fucking tempted to do it.”

And Raif could tell by the way Tyler smirked at their coach that he’d keep pushing until he was taken in hand or shown the door himself. He caught Tyler with an arm around his throat before he could speak again and add being punched in the face to the possible outcome.

“Silence, boy. You
r attitude only proves my point.” He tightened his grip on Tyler’s throat as the young man tensed and let out a low, angry sound. It reminded Raif of the Alaskan Malamute he’d had as a boy. One of the hardest breeds to train, and Oluja had been intelligent and headstrong, ready to pull him off his feet at the slightest sign of weakness. But loyal and loving once she saw he was strong enough to lead her.

He’d learned to exert his control as she’d grown, to set the boundaries and maintain them.
He loosened his grip on Tyler’s throat as he recalled the first stages of training with his beautiful dog. Holding her down on her back to rub her belly and enforce his dominance as a positive thing.

Raif smiled when Tyler didn’t try to move away. “
What you’re asking for is good. I appreciate that you know what you need.”

Tyler stiffened. Mason met Raif’s eyes, then inclined hi
s head and pulled Sloan aside. Cort smoothly took over the scene, using a flogger—which he had more experience with—rather than the whip. The interruption hadn’t done any real damage, so Raif was able to shift his focus away from everyone besides the young man whose throat worked against Raif’s arm as he swallowed hard.

“
I don’t need you. This is weird, Raif.” A shallow laugh escaped Tyler, but he cut it off as though he knew he’d reached the end of his rope and didn’t need it to choke him to stop pulling. “You’re my friend. You can’t punish me.”

“And our coach—he’s not your friend?” Raif knew very well friendship wasn’t the issue. Callahan had been an easy target. Tyler wanted to be punished in a quick,
uncomplicated way, but it wouldn’t satisfy him. And if he’d gotten what he’d asked for from Callahan, his performance would suffer. Which would turn penance into regret.

You will learn from this, Ty.
Raif led Tyler back to the round sofa, a calming levelness settling over him even though he knew this boy would fight to keep him off-balance. Without even realizing he was doing so. But there was no reason to give him the opportunity.

Tyler scuffed his sneakers on the hard wood floor
beside the couch. “He’s not my friend, he’s—”

“It doesn’t matter, Ty. I will be the one punishing you.” Raif gave Tyler a stiff smile. This still had to be Tyler’s
decision—the boy didn’t belong to him. “If you’d rather I don’t, feel free to leave.”

“I’m not leaving.” Tyler’s brow furrowed, as though he was unsure of his next move. “You can’t make me leave.”

Raif inclined his head. “No, I can’t. But Mason will if this behavior continues and we both know that. Enough with the games. You’ve asked for the punishment, but I’m starting to wonder if that was simply a cry for attention.”

“I don’t need—”

“What
do
you need, Ty? Tell me that instead.”

Tyler groaned and grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt. Jerking it off, he tossed it aside and glared at Raif. “Just fucking do it, all right? I don’t care what you use, just make sure I’ll be fit to play on Monday.”

“Of course.” Raif folded his arms over his chest, his lips thinning as he observed the young man, looking for the slightest chink in his armor, a place where Raif could reach the submissive soul hidden behind layers of steel. For one who’d spent years in the lifestyle, the boy buried his natural urges rather deep.

Unless they weren’t natural at all. Maybe Raif had read him all wrong. Tyler could be a man willing to do
anything
for the woman he loved. Even if that meant being a virtual doormat for her to trample on with her sharp stiletto boot heels.

But the longer Raif watched him, the more nervous Tyler seemed to become. He licked his lips and went from glaring to staring at the floor. His fisted hands opened and his breaths turned quick and shallow.

“Raif?” Tyler shifted and swallowed hard. “Please?”

Well now
…
this was much better. He would love to know what was going on in Tyler’s head, but discussion appeared to be the very thing that brought up Tyler’s walls. The “Please” was consent. Raif could take it from here.

“Remove your shoes, socks, and jeans—you may leave your boxers on.” Raif’s lips quirked at the sound of protest Tyler made before he added the last. But then he put his hand under Tyler’s chin to ask him one very important question. “Do you trust me, Ty?”

“Yeah, I trust you…” Tyler inhaled roughly. Then grinned. “
Sir
.”