IRON CROSS (The Dartmouth Cobras #6)
Too many penalties may leave the goal vulnerable without the IRON CROSS.
After overcoming a potentially career-ending concussion, Tyler Vanek, Dartmouth Cobras’ first line forward, couldn’t be happier with his life. Until his boyhood hero-worship for Raif Zovko, a newly acquired player, develops into more. His mistress, ‘Chicklet’ encourages him to explore his feelings, and with her enjoyment of toying with the powerful Dom, Tyler figures it might be fun.
Laura Tallent, a dedicated officer with the Halifax PD, and Chicklet’s first sub, is tired of Tyler’s fun disrupting the structure of her world. Devotion to her mistress kept her silent for two years, but a horrible case and more proof that Tyler is the worst sub in existence has her wondering how much better life would be if he was someone else’s problem. Someone like Raif.
Raif won’t deny the lust he feels for Tyler, but he refuses to play games with a young man who’s questioning his sexuality—he won’t be an experimental phase for an unruly submissive. But when Laura draws him into a plan to remove Tyler from her poly relationship with Chicklet, his protective instincts take over. He partners with Chicklet to protect Tyler and dig deeper into the reasons behind Laura’s scheming. Chicklet clearly loves her boy, she won’t let him go. And before long, Raif realizes neither can he.
Blindsided by the discord in her household, Chicklet struggles to fulfill her subs’ needs as their careers throw challenges at them all. Control is slipping from her hands, but with Raif by her side, she prays her relationships can be saved. Salvaging the future means rebuilding with a new foundation. But the only way to make the base solid is for them all to work together. And with all the secrecy and lies, she has no idea where to start.
Excerpt
“Anyway, back to our negotiations. Face the bed and put your hands on the mattress.” With a sharp smack on his ass, Chicklet stepped away and went to grab the boxes off the bed.
He watched her, then forced himself to follow her instructions without telling her how much he hated this position. He’d only ever been in this position for impact play, but unless it was for punishment, she usually had him so turned on he didn’t care what she did to him. He had a bad feeling about this.
Her steady steps moved around the room. The curtains were thrown open and the glaring sun reminded him why drinking was such a bad idea no matter how much fun he had while throwing back the hard stuff. Tylenol had lessened the painful throb to a dull ache, but not enough to let him forget how stupid he’d been.
“It’s been, what, about two years since we had this discussion?” Chicklet asked as she plugged something into the wall outlet beside the bed. “Head down, boy.”
Staring at the silver design in the crimson microfiber comforter covering the bed, Tyler lifted his shoulders in a stiff shrug. “Guess so. But we were sitting at a table and you were writing stuff down then.”
His own defensive tone surprised him. He moved to lift his head, but Chicklet’s hand pressed gently against it, keeping him in place. “I have no problem putting this in writing if you need it, Tyler.”
“I don’t. I’m sorry, I’m not sure why I said that.”
“Because you’re feeling exposed and you don’t know what I’m planning. I’ll let you know if your uncertainty verges on rudeness, don’t worry.” She ran her hand up and down his spine. “Try to relax.”
“Be easier if I knew what you were gonna do to me.” Tyler bit the inside of his cheek as her hand drifted down, between his legs. She cupped his balls and he pressed his eyes shut. Wouldn’t take much for him to come, no matter how “uncertain” he was. His dick twitched as she closed her hand around his nutsack. The rest of him went perfectly still.
He was always real polite, if not completely silent, when Chicklet had a firm grip on his balls.
Still can’t relax. He didn’t know a man that could, restrained like this. Ropes wouldn’t be more effective.
“Penetration is on your hard limits, along with blood play, needle play, and…” She cleared her throat, her voice hinting at amusement. “Any kind play that’s ‘like bathroom stuff.’”
“Yeah. None of that’s changed.”
She didn’t seem to hear him. “My hard limits included some of those, and some things you’d never even heard of at the time.”
Sounds good. I’m liking the status quo. His heart was pounding because he wasn’t an idiot. If he let himself think about it, he could figure out what she’d consider changing. But he released a strangled laugh. “I get it. I got my nipples pierced, so maybe we could try…”
He couldn’t even say it. Not even jokingly like he’d planned to.
She chuckled, rolling his balls in her hand. “What could we try, my angel? Say it.”
He shook his head.
Her grip tightened.
“I was kidding. I’ve seen it at the club and—”
“It?”
Shuddering, he managed to get the word out. “Needle play.”
The grip on his nutsack loosened up and he inhaled deeply. The kiss Chicklet pressed between his shoulder blades as she released his balls calmed him some. But then he heard the distinct sound of a condom wrapper being ripped. He stiffened at a rubber snap. Gloves too?
Chicklet made a soft, hushing sound. “Trust me, Tyler. Your limits haven’t changed.” When she paused, a loud buzzing filled the room. “Yet.”
Her hand, covered with a snug rubber glove, was on his ass, spreading his cheeks. Some blunt, vibrating thing pressed against his anus and he jerked his hips away. A slap on his thigh warned him to stay put.
His legs were kicked farther apart. The vibrations returned and he muffled a groan. Shit, this shouldn’t feel good, but it did. There were all kinds of nerves back there and they flared up, intense enough to drive him out of his mind. He bucked his hips back and fisted his hands in the comforter.
“Fuck!” His muscles drew taut. He couldn’t take much more, the pleasure was like nothing he’d ever experienced. He trembled as the vibrations increased. No way would he come without permission, but he wasn’t sure he could stop himself. “Mistress, may I—”
“Not yet. Take a breath and hold back for me.” Her voice was low, soothing, as though she wanted to help him follow her command. Without making it easier. She shifted and a bottle cap popped. Cool liquid spilled over his sensitive, fairly burning flesh, right around where the blunt vibrator pushed against him. The liquid warmed slightly, then more and more even as it dripped down his balls.
Holy fuck, this was torture. Erotic torture, so fucking good, but…not enough. He groaned out loud as the vibrator pressed harder, slipping with the lube. The pressure on the space between his balls and his hole didn’t give him any relief. But then Chicklet’s fingers were there, the rubber covering them slick with lube, circling the ring of muscle.
But going no further. She respected his hard limits.
“Loosen your arms a little, my boy. And tell me—tell me how good it feels.”
“It’s fucking amazing. I want…” He shouldn’t want her to go any further. Then again, who the fuck had decided that? Him? He panted as beads of sweat gathered above his lips, on his temples, making him slick all over. “Please!”
“Tell me what you want, Tyler.” Chicklet kissed the small of his back, still teasing him with the tips of her fingers. “If you’re changing your hard limits, I need the words.”
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