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.
Chapter Three
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.
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.”
His mouth thinned into a hard line…but it hadn't been hard at all when he kissed her. His fingers on her neck tightened, and then he released her.
“It was nice meeting you too, lass.” He took her hand, turned it over, and grazed his lips over her palm, sending a rush straight to her pussy. Damn, he was potent. His gaze brushed over her blatantly peaked nipples, and a corner of his mouth tipped up. “We'll talk soon about this rule of yours.”
She could see he expected her to argue over that statement, but she'd lived long enough to know the utility of a quick retreat. Especially since her body had started a raging argument with her head.
When she pulled her hand away, he let her go. He ran a finger down her cheek, the look in his eyes so intense, it felt as if he'd touched her soul. And yet gentle. Caring.
More shaken by that look even than her arousal, she slung her hoop over her shoulder and grabbed her clothing and shoes. Clutching everything to her bare chest, she marched through the place, up the stairs, and to the changing rooms near the front. Once there, she leaned her back against the cool metal of a locker and sighed.
Why did he have to be so…so overwhelming? Every time he gave her one of those commanding looks, she wanted to fall at his knees and say, Take me. Please. Was she that much of a weak-willed female?
Oh yes. When it came to him, definitely yes.
And that last look he'd given her… She'd better stick with easier men to date or the first item on her list—not get involved with anyone for at least five years—wouldn't last a month.
Chapter Four
The drenching morning rain had given way to clear skies, and now the late-afternoon sun warmed Rona's shoulders. She strolled down the center of the blocked-off avenue, dodging the others also enjoying this pre-Christmas street fair. The raunchy lyrics of Hollywood Undead blasted out from a boom box down the street. Sex toys, fet-wear, bondage equipment—this was the place to shop for a loved one whose tastes edged into kinky. Or if you wanted to indulge in buying for yourself.
She glanced at a man leading another by a leash and grinned. Who would have thought she'd find such things tempting? Her trip to Dark Haven two weeks ago had opened her eyes in many ways.
And complicated her life. She frowned. Hoping to get that overbearing, commanding, overmuscled, gorgeous, man, dom, out of her thoughts, she'd gone on a flurry of dates. And each evening had been as exciting as giving a patient a bed bath.
Had just one taste of BDSM spoiled her for normal guys? The memory of how Master Simon's dark eyes had studied her as he cuffed her wrists sent a blast of heat through her like she'd sniffed a vial of pheromones.
Of course, the sights and sounds around her didn't help. She dodged an extremely tall man in a cat suit and cat mask, then a cluster of men in chain harnesses and jeans. Shrugging her canvas shopping bag to a comfortable position on her shoulder, she checked out the booths displaying garter belts, vinyl and latex clothing, and costumes. She wanted something exotic so she could blend in next time she went to Dark Haven. Maybe a sexy bustier?
She paused by a stall that sold sex toys. So many times she'd considered getting a vibrator, but it had seemed a kind of betrayal of Mark, no matter how flat their love life had grown. But now…
Several women clustered around the stall, decreasing her feeling of being conspicuous. Look, Rona's going to buy a vibrator! Edging to the front, she studied the offerings. Where to start? Dildos ranged from tiny—why would anyone use something the size of a finger?—to a terrifying one that resembled a foot-long mushroom and made her vagina cringe, if such a thing were possible.
Then she noticed the vibrator section. Oh yes. Right off her fantasy list—which had grown remarkably after her club visit. Tiny balls to go inside. Nah. Some the size and shape of a real cock. Her finger tapped her lips. Too bland. She spotted one that could be used in both orifices. Her butt constricted at the thought, but… Hmm… Next to it lay a combination dildo-and-clit vibrator, and her bottom actually wiggled at the idea. She started to reach for it…
A hand pressed against her lower back, and a deep, smooth voice murmured in her ear, “I'm going to get
the wrong impression of you if we keep meeting in these types of venues.”
She caught the scent of sensuously rich cologne before she jerked around and stared up into dark eyes that glinted with amusement. “Ma—Simon.”
“Ah. I haven't been forgotten completely.”
When he stroked a finger down her cheek, her insides quivered as if the fabled San Francisco quake had started. Nice trick, that. She doubted if even the fancy vibrators in the booth could achieve such an effect. “What are you doing here?”
“Some friends are giving a demonstration of suspension bondage.” He glanced at his watch. “I have fifteen minutes free. May I join you?”
Oh yes. Then her brain kicked in. Oh no.
He shook his head. “So divided.” Lifting a finger, he attracted the attention of the booth owner, picked up the combination vibrator, and handed her some money.
Rona eyed the device. A guy wouldn't use something like that, would he? No. So he'd bought it for a girlfriend or… “Are you married?”
When he cocked an eyebrow at her blunt question, she sighed. At work, she'd been described as confident and articulate, yet in his presence, she tripped over her tongue like a verbal spastic.
“No, I'm not married, lass. Or in any relationship whatsoever.”
Wasn't he going to ask her that question in return? Her mouth turned down. Didn't he want to know?
Smiling, he lifted her hand and tapped the fading mark on her ring finger where her wedding band had been. “I don't need to ask, lass. And you're too honest to scene with me if you were involved.”
“Both telepathy and X-ray vision, huh?”
He chuckled. “I've been a dom for quite a while. Eventually you learn to use your eyes.”
As the seller counted out his change, a shriek split through the noise of the crowd. Rona turned.
Near the center of the street, two brawling, red-faced men had knocked an older lady to her knees. As “fuck yous” filled the air, they tried to tear each other apart, heedless of their victim.
Doms of Dark Haven Page 20
