Iron Cross: The Dartmouth Cobras #6 by Bianca Sommerland Read Free Book Online Page B

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 .”
    The boy was a bit of a br at, but Raif found it endearing. He could see why Chicklet would let Tyler run a little wild—he must be fun to play with. Settling down on the sofa, Raif folded his arms behind his head, pleased that Tyler kicked off his shoes and removed his jeans without any fuss. He rolled his eyes when Raif glanced pointedly at his socks, but toed them off and then simply stood there and waited for the next command.
    Raif took his time enjoying the sight of the toned body before him, muscles not large, but well -defined. Pale skin flush with the excitement and energy of youth, only the slightest brush of golden curls on his chest and stomach. Dark blue silk boxers, not as snug as briefs, yet still short enough to show off most of his legs and the swell of his slack dick. Raif didn’t let his gaze linger there for long; he didn’t play with straight virgin boys.
    A wicked part of his mind wondered how quickly he could get Tyler hard if he used the right tone. The right touch. He looked at Tyler’s face and knew those soft lips would feel like heaven sliding down his cock.
    Punishment, Zovko. You have him for punishment.
    With a firm nod, both to his own thoughts, and to let Tyler know he was ready to begin, Raif held his hand out, motioning to the floor. “I want you in plank position. Hold it as long as possible, then lower to your knees when your arms become sore. I expect you to tell me if you are in pain, but you know how to use your safeword, yes?”
    “Yeah, but what are you gonna use?” Tyler glanced to either side of Raif as though he expected some tool of torture to be laying on the sofa cushion. Perhaps tucked away out of sight. “I need to know because I hate the cane, and I gotta brace myself for—”
    “No cane. No pain at all other than that of holding yourself in place.” Raif shook his head slowly when Tyler opened his mouth. “You will not speak again aside from what we’ve discussed. And no one will speak to you. You are nothing but an object now, boy. A footstool, to be exact.”
    A dark red blush spread across Tyler’s cheeks. He chewed hard on his bottom lip, then dropped to his knees. The thick muscles in his back and his calves hardened as he put himself in plank position, arms and legs perfectly straight.
    Raif waited a few moments before taking the punishment a step further. He lifted his booted feet and set them on the center of Tyler’s back. Watched Tyler’s expression go from utter humiliation to calm acceptance. He smiled as Tyler adjusted himself, moving a little closer so Raif could get comfortable.
    There it was. Raif gestured for the waitress to bring him two bottles of water. And spoke quietly.
    “Don’t move. And don’t speak.” He let his tone drop into the smooth, lulling one he used for his lovers. And his subs. “But I want you to know, I am very pleased with you, Ty.”
    Tyler didn’t lift his head, but Raif saw his lips curve up just a bit. That was exactly what he’d needed to hear.
     
    * * * *
     
    A dull ache in Tyler’s arms had him lowering to his knees without even caring that it might make him look weak. The hard-core music in the club faded away. So did all the people. He sensed them moving around him, but he felt so far removed from everything, they didn’t matter. The solid weight on his back kept him grounded, kept his head where