Sierra Cartwright - Doms of Dark Haven

“I hope you aren't planning to come yet.”

She panted, gathering her control as he moved away slightly.

“He says that Kevin and some of the others are teaching him to play football.”

“But he can't see!”

“Doesn't matter. Close your eyes, Eva.” She obeyed, letting her head drop back into the support of the swing. His mouth returned to tormenting her, and she wiggled, trying to find more pressure, more penetration—anything to end it!

He swatted her on the ass. “Eager?” She heard him sliding his hand into his pocket. Her heart dropped. “The lube should be nice and warm.”

“Harte—Master… What exactly are you planning?”

She got her answer when he began painting lube around her anus. Her body seized hard in a combination of dread and anticipation.

“Oh, this is perfect.” She felt his slick finger pressing against her hole. “You know the drill, sweetie.” She bit her lip and bore down, gasping as his finger slipped in. She tried to remember if he'd brought his toy bag outside. A quick glance told her that he hadn't.

She closed her eyes again and let the sensations run through her body. If she could free her hands, she'd play with her nipples; he loved watching her do that. Of course, he loved seeing her trussed and helpless even more. Damn wolf had an unlimited imagination!

“What are you thinking of? You seem so far away.” He rose to his feet, but his finger remained in her ass, pumping steadily. He circled her clit with his thumb, and she felt fluid slip from her pussy and trickle back to her bottom.

“England. I'm thinking of England.”

“Brat!” His laugh was husky. She peeked through one eye and saw that his eyes were the gold of the wolf. They didn't always shift during sex; they went gold only when he was entering that altered state where the need to dominate captured his libido.

Damn. This could really take some time. He was in his happy place.

She was too; the breeze caressed her bare skin, and she was absolutely, completely helpless. She had no choice but to give all her needs over to Harte's capable hands. She heard the rustle of fabric. He'd unzipped his pants, leaving the waistband fastened. She remembered the young couple in the club; he'd been fucking her in a swing similar to this one.

Eva chuckled. “Be sure to leave your belt on, or your pants might fall off.”

“Quiet.” His voice rumbled, and her wolf took a submissive posture. She was immobile. She couldn't wiggle or arch her pelvis to draw him in. She couldn't wrap her legs around his lean hips or draw her nails down the smooth skin of his back.

All she could do was wait for Harte to bring her to ecstasy. She had complete faith that was exactly what he planned to do.

She felt the blunt end of his cock sliding through her labia as he slicked himself in her fluids. A finger slipped back to her ass, teasing and pressing in even as he invaded her pussy. She felt tight and full, and it was a bit of a relief when he finally needed both hands on her hips to steer the swing.

He remained perfectly still as he brought Eva to his body. Her hands were secured to the bar above her head; her ankles were bound into stirrups. All she could do was feel, so she closed her eyes and focused on the sensations that tore through her body.

Her nipples were tight from the cool breeze and from her arousal. He paused for a moment and reached up to cup her breasts and pinch the nipples into taut arousal. His hips thrust forward as he then held her steady by the shoulders. He paused again and fished into his pockets to bring out a delicate pair of nipple clamps. She hissed as he attached them, one at a time.

“What else do you have in your pockets?”

He grinned, pulling her back onto his cock. “Who knows? Maybe something for here…” He settled the pad of his thumb over her clit and circled through the slick lubrication. Her hips tried to buck up against his hand. “Or maybe something for here…” He reached behind, and the tip of his finger thrust into the slick rosette of her anus. Eva dropped her head back and groaned. Pressure and heaviness began to gather in her belly. Every thrust, every movement made the beads in the nipple clamps swing heavily. Every time he pumped into her body, his finger buried deeper, and Eva gasped in shock. The world had shifted in color, just as it had that night in the alley.

Harte growled in arousal. “Your eyes—they've gone silvery blue.”

She couldn't respond. Eva was too busy beating back the climax. “I'm…close…”

“Not yet. Don't come, Eva.”

She panted and moaned. She fought to relax her muscles, to ignore the rushing tide of blood that flooded her pelvis.

“Please.”

“Soon.” He was moving faster and faster still. His hips pounded between hers; his balls slapped against her bottom. He'd grabbed her hips again and was fucking her in earnest, fast and shallow and then deep and hard. He pulled out so far that he nearly fell away, and then returned in a long, hard push. She felt that steady tempo go ragged and knew he was there.

“Now, Eva!” He came inside her with a flurry of frantic thrusts, and through the grip of her climax, Eva felt the rush of his seed into her body. He cried out; his shoulders bunched up, the muscles tight. Sweat beaded his skin. Tied up in the swing, Eva could only feel; she could only take what he had to give her and let the climax sweep through her body. And when it was finished, he leaned forward to slip off the nipple clamps. Her nipples stung and tingled, the sensation rushing straight to her throbbing cunt, giving her one final, twisting spasm.

“Oh damn.”

It sounded more like a prayer than a curse. Harte slipped to the ground, flat on his back in the sun-warmed grass. He looked like a big, sated wolf with a goofy grin on his face. Eva went loose and limp, still suspended in the chair. In the distance, she heard the phone ring.

“You aren't leaving me here to take that call.”

“No. Can't move yet.”

“Come on, Harte. I've got to use the bathroom. Honest.”

He grinned, looked up at her, and lifted his brows.

“Please?”

“Oh, she's using the magic words.”

Eva sighed. “Obviously they aren't the right ones for this situation.” She dropped her head back and looked up at the huge white clouds scudding through the blue, blue sky.

“I've never had a home before. Did you know that?” He nodded, listening to what she had to say. “I've only had hiding spots, even when Mom was with me.

Never a home.” She inhaled. On the breeze, she caught the scent of wolves. The pack was gathering for a barbecue. After a couple of trips up to the Truckee compound, Harte and Eva had decided they needed to tighten the ties within their own pack.

“I love this place. I love the house and the very ground it sits on. But it's not my home, Harte.” He sat up, looking at her with a very serious expression on his face.

“Eva, what's mine is yours. I thought you knew that.”

She gave him a smile and then looked down the road. They'd be here in five minutes, maybe less. He'd timed it well.

“It's not my home, because to me, home is not a place to stay, Harte. It's the person you share it with. You're my home. And I couldn't love you more.” He rose to his knees and looked up at her.

“Now if you'd take me out of this damned swing, I'll prove it to you.”

The smile spread across his face as slow and sweet as honey. His hazel eyes glistened in the sun, and he lifted one dark brow. Eva sighed in frustration.

“Please, Master.”

He unfastened the cuffs on her ankles and wrists, and as he did so, Eva wondered how he was going to explain the odd leather swing suspended from the big oak tree. When voices echoed from the front of the house, she wondered if they'd be able to make it to the bedroom before their visitors caught them in the buff.