Sierra Cartwright - Doms of Dark Haven

Her turquoise-colored eyes were very vulnerable in the aftermath of the scene and roused all his protective instincts. Odd. He hadn't felt this intensely about anyone since the birth of his son. He kissed her lightly, reassuringly, and felt her muscles relax.

“Did you like your first experience with BDSM?” he asked. He knew one answer, considering how hard she'd come, but a woman's fears and worries couldn't be plumbed in just one evening.

“Well. I… Yes, I did.”

No coy answers from this sub. Damn, she pleased him.

He stroked her cheek, holding her gaze. “What part did you like the most?”

She stiffened, obviously unused to intimate questions. She'd have to learn better. Not only did he require it as a dom, but also as a lover. And he wanted to know her all the way down to her soul. He tightened his grip and moved his hand back to her breasts, increasing their physical intimacy to match the emotional.

“Answer me.”

Her body softened at his firm order. Submissive . But still silent.

“All right, I'll help. Did you like the flogging?” He ran his hand under her round ass to where he'd struck the hardest, and squeezed her undoubtedly sore flesh.

She jumped.

“Or the electrical play?” He touched her still-wet pussy, enjoying the drifting scent of her arousal.

Her body stiffened, and she tried to sit up, but his arm around her shoulders kept her in place. She was going nowhere. He ran his fingers up and down her swollen labia and grazed the vulnerable little clit.

She inhaled sharply.

Was she this responsive with everyone, or did her body also recognize the connection between them? “Do I need to show you the choices again?”

Two people walking past overheard and laughed.

Her cheeks flushed a lovely pink. She cleared her throat. “No. The electrical stuff. Only, if I'd known you wanted to do that, I—”

“You'd never have allowed an electrode anywhere near this pretty pussy?”

“Crom no.”

Crom . He'd heard that odd word used as a soft curse one time before. Where?

Then he smiled slowly as he remembered. “The riot after the football game.”

“Excuse me?”

“Last year, you helped my son when he got hurt in the riot.” While Simon had fought the surging crowd from trampling Danny, Rona had braced his son's broken arm and checked him for other injuries. Her low, soft voice had been compassionate, and her matter-of-fact tone, reassuring. She'd directed her two teenage boys to help Danny stand, so Simon could get him out of the mess. Then, trailed by her sons, she'd moved on to assist others. Danny still called her his football angel.

“Oh.” She frowned at him. “I don't remember you.”

“You concentrated on my son.” He rubbed his chin against her wavy hair. A ball cap had hidden it that night, and she'd worn jeans and a high school letter jacket. No wonder he hadn't recognized her. “What is a Crom, anyway?”

When she gave a husky laugh, he grinned. He'd been right, her voice had indeed deepened after she'd come. “It's the god of Conan the Barbarian. My superhero-worshipping sons and I decided Crom wouldn't mind if we took his name in vain.”

“Ah.” Both practical and quirky. “Well, my son and I thank you for your help that night.” He kissed her gently for thanks, then continued, teasing her mouth, savoring the softness, the willingness to enjoy, and the delightful skill with which she ran her tongue over his lips, alternating with gentle nibbles.

When he slid one finger over her clit, she gave the softest of moans. Perhaps they weren't finished after all, and now that he knew more about her, he was damned if he wanted to stop.

He gently pinched her clit between his fingers. When she gasped, he took possession of her mouth, hard and deep, even as he slipped a finger into her. After pulling his hand back, he thrust harder into her and felt the surging arousal of her body.

After ending the kiss, he smiled down at her. Her eyes had glazed with passion; her lips were red and wet. The hand she'd wrapped behind his neck resisted his movement away even as her pussy contracted around his finger.

Passionate and responsive. Intelligent, brave, and submissive. Her appeal grabbed him by the guts and pulled. He took a slow, steady breath. “Let me clean up the scene area, and we'll find somewhere else to play.” The Victorian Room would serve nicely, considering the theme tonight, and she'd look lovely bound to the four-poster.

Her eyes widened and then narrowed. He could almost hear her brain switch back on.

Rona pushed herself to a sitting position, dismayed at her behavior. She'd wanted to explore, but jumping right in like this… What had she been thinking?

She didn't really know this man, and he'd kept touching her as if she belonged to him. Crom, his finger still filled her, eroding her resistance. She grasped his thickly corded wrist and tried to push his hand away.

His arm didn't budge an inch. In fact, he deliberately pressed in farther until his palm brushed against her throbbing clit.

A spasm of delight sent heat soaring through her like she'd entered a sauna.

She sucked in a lungful of air, wanting nothing so much as to say, More . “Stop, please.”

His head tilted. His dark eyes had never left hers. He slid his finger from her, ever so slowly, his gaze studying her.

She felt the warmth of an embarrassed flush. He knew exactly how turned on he'd made her, dammit.

His lips quirked, but the arm around her loosened. He wasn't going to push her.

She breathed a sigh of relief until he lifted his hand and licked the finger that glistened with her wetness, sampling it like a fine vintage.

“You taste as hot and sweet as I thought you would.” His eyes left her no doubt that he imagined his mouth replacing his hand.

Her vagina clenched, feeling only emptiness where he'd been. Everything in her burned for his touch. Take me. No . Her thoughts jiggled in her head like a heart in atrial fibrillation until she finally remembered why she needed to leave. The second item on her “I'm free to change” goals: for at least one year, she could only have sex with a man once before moving on to a new guy. She'd decided to take no chance of getting caught or stuck in a rut.

Not even with someone like this. Especially with someone like this . She firmed her lips and pushed off his lap and onto her feet.

He frowned but rose in instinctive courtesy. Unfortunately, that left her looking up at him. His shoulders broad and muscular. He could overpower her easily, and damn her for wanting him to. Damn him for being so devastating.

“I really must go,” she said firmly, despite the flutters in her stomach. “Thank you for the sample of BDSM, Master Simon. I…learned a lot.”

“You view this as a lesson only?” His eyes narrowed. “Was I mistaken in the impression that you enjoyed yourself?”

Considering how she'd screamed, he knew full well she'd gotten off. And yet his words still made her feel guilty, as if she was being rude. “I did enjoy myself.

But…”

“Continue.”

Authoritative jerk, she thought, and yet every time his voice took on that commanding tone, she wanted to roll over and go belly up like her neighbor's wimpy dachshund. “I won't do anything with anyone more than once.”

“So, good or bad, each man gets only one shot?”

“That's right. That's my rule.” Posted on the bulletin board at home, no less.

“I see.” His hand curved around the nape of her neck as if she were a kitten being dragged by its mother. “Rona, I would like to see you again. If you prefer to avoid…intimate…surroundings, I'll take you to dinner.”

“No. But thank you.” She gave him a firm nod and held out her hand, pretending she still had on clothing. “I enjoyed meeting you.”