Sierra Cartwright - Doms of Dark Haven

He hadn't fastened it too snugly, and yet when she tried to move, she realized it raised her chin and kept her from looking either around or down. A flash of panic went through her and died at the steady look in his eyes.

“I won't leave you, sweetheart. If anything bothers you too much, use your safe word. Do you understand?”

She tried to nod and couldn't.

His eyes crinkled. “Say, 'Yes, sir.'”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Now you just stay put while I enjoy myself.”

What did that mean? Her hands curled into balls as he knelt. With her chin held up by the collar, she couldn't see him. The bastard . Yet the arousal in her body edged up a notch as she waited for his touch. She had to wait; couldn't do anything else.

She heard a rustle, felt his hands on her pussy, and damn, it felt so good, his firm hands doing whatever he wanted. He buckled some sort of harness around her thighs and waist. Okay, that wasn't so bad, but then something pushed up inside her. Something cool. Hard. Not his fingers.

“What are you doing?” Her voice shook.

“Whatever I want, sweetheart.” Liquid drizzled down her pussy, wet and cold, and she jumped. She felt a pinch over her clit, one that didn't release. Not painful but…disconcerting. A few clipping sounds and then tugs on the harness. “I'm just adjusting everything so it stays in place.”

So what stays in place ? She throbbed from the pressure of whatever was inside and from whatever sat over her clit. What was he doing?

When he stood, he had a microphone on his collar and a box— a control box ?—

clipped to his waistband.

Before she figured out what that combination meant, he ran his firm hands over her, stroking her skin, cupping her breasts, sending the warmth rising in her again. His lips settled on hers, and he took a long kiss. God, he could kiss. Her body relaxed…and heated.

He pulled back, smiled into her eyes, and then flipped a switch on the box.

Something made tapping sensations her clit and up inside her. Like tiny hammers. She jerked, her eyes wide. “What is that?”

“I'll show you in a bit. Your only job is to let me know if anything becomes uncomfortable.” He put a finger on her chin and gave her an uncompromising look.

“Otherwise I do not want to hear you speak. Am I clear, pet?”

She stiffened yet melted inside at his low, resonant voice and the commanding look in his eyes. “Yes, Sir.”

As the tapping increased—somehow different from a vibrator, more inside than out—her clit tightened until it felt as if it would burst. Everything down there coiled, aching for more, and it wasn't enough. She smothered a moan. And she realized he'd stepped away to study her reactions.

He nodded. “Perfect.” And then his flogger struck her thighs. The added sensation shocked through her and zoomed straight to her clit. Her legs tensed, and she rocked. He didn't stop. The leather strands hit lightly up her back, and each blow made the burning need in her pussy worse, so much worse.

She closed her eyes, swamped by the sensations.

He lashed her bottom, the backs of her thighs. “Rona.”

With his words, the tingling on her clit increased in force and speed, and she moaned uncontrollably.

A second later the tapping abated. The flogger didn't. “Rona. Look at me.”

Again, the vibrations intensified for a few seconds. Not nearly long enough.

And the flogger never stopped, weaving a sensory spell around her. Up her legs, almost touching her pussy.

Oh God, just a little more . Her hands closed into fists, and her neck arched.

“Look. At. Me.”

Again, the tapping strengthened, quickened, and the searing wave of arousal inside her and across her clit almost got her off, but then the vibrations slowed. She forced her eyes open.

His smile flashed in that chiseled face. “That's a girl.”

Her back arched as the jump in sensations blew through her again. As they decreased, she stared at the mike clipped to his shirt. Oh, Crom . He could change the intensity of vibrations with his voice—with sound control.

The flogger struck her harder, each blow a flashing pain that stung and shunted more urgency through her until every nerve seemed swallowed by need.

But she couldn't, couldn't get off. She whimpered. “Oh please…”

He chuckled, and just that tiny amount of sound shot through her like he'd pinched her clit.

Her hands clenched as she hovered on the pinnacle, with pain and pleasure so securely wound together, she just might die.

“All right, sweetie,” he murmured.

Oh God, the feeling with his words. Sweat rolled down her back as she strained toward the climax she couldn't reach.

And then he said loudly, oh so loudly, “Let's hear you scream, pet.” The vibrations turned exquisitely powerful inside and across her clit, and his flogger lashed across her breasts.

She exploded, wave after wave of blazing pleasure pouring through every nerve in her body, shaking her like a rag doll. Her legs simply collapsed.

“Very nice,” he said, and the sound kicked off more vibrations. As the intense spasms shocked through her, she couldn't move, couldn't do anything except feel each rippling wave. When they finally stopped, she hung limply from the chains, her mind hazed. Satisfied. Stunned.

She barely registered his removing everything, undoing the harness on her thighs, then the collar. Too heavy to stay upright, her head rested against her chained arm.

“Hang on another minute, lass.” He unchained her wrists and caught her around the waist when she'd have folded right onto the floor. A second later her brain went into a roller-coaster swirl. She blinked in astonishment— he's carrying me ?—and stared up at his corded neck and strong jaw. Rock-hard arms held her against his solid chest, and the scent of his subtly musky cologne surrounded her.

The disconcerting sense of fragility blended with the wonderful feeling of being cherished.

Now wasn't she the nicest armful he'd had in a long time? The way her body fit against his made Simon wonder if their personalities would match equally well.

Logical or not, everything inside him said yes.

He took a seat in a nearby leather chair and settled her comfortably on his lap.

Her soft ass pressed against his painfully rigid cock, and she obviously felt it. “What about you?” she murmured. “Can I—”

“No, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of her head, warmth seeping into him both from her body and from the knowledge that she wanted to give back as well as to receive. “This evening was for your pleasure.”

And for his, in a way. He'd enjoyed introducing her to BDSM more than anything he'd done in a long time. He smiled, remembering how the wariness in her eyes had warred with the arousal of her body. When she had set her hand in his, the trust she'd given him had squeezed his heart.

He rubbed his chin on her silky hair, pleased with her light fragrance of vanilla and citrus that created the feeling of a garden within the wilderness of the club. Her cheek rested against his chest, and she gripped the front placket of his old-fashioned shirt as if she feared he'd leave her. Not a chance.

But he shouldn't let her get too comfortable. This woman needed to be kept off balance, at least for now. So he contracted his grip and ran his free hand over her bare breasts, smiling when she startled.

“Don't move, pet,” he cautioned her.

Sweetly submissive, she stilled, although her breathing increased.

He pleased himself with the feel of her round breasts. Despite her recent orgasm, her satiny nipples responded quickly, forming dark pink peaks. When he pinched one, she quivered and looked up at him.