Sierra Cartwright - Doms of Dark Haven

The dom gave her a cold look and stalked away.

The next one was even younger, midtwenties, and serious eye candy.

He had a wide smile as he said, “Mmm, I like what that vacuum pump does.”

He kissed her softly, and his hand brushed over her breast. Very nice. Not painful at all.

He bent and sucked on her nipple. She leaned back, only there was no retreat against the wrongness of the sensation. His hand touched her pussy and—

“Time.”

“Hell. That's just not long enough.” He licked his fingers and groaned. “Find me later, sweetie, and we'll go at it.”

She smiled back at him, not promising anything. His touch had been pleasant, but where was the zing?

“Look at me.” The next dom's voice sliced into her thoughts like a scalpel through Kleenex.

Her gaze shot up and into intense blue eyes. The dom named Jake.

“Where's the girl?” Rona asked and winced. Don't talk.

When his eyes crinkled, he reminded her of Simon, only her heart stayed put rather than doing somersaults. “A friend of hers took her home. We'll make sure she's all right.”

“Oh good.”

His big hand cupped her cheek, and he tilted her head up. “You're a pretty sub, sugar. I like you.”

“I like you too,” she said. He'd cared for that poor sub so sweetly and—

“Look at me. Right at me, girl.” Dom voice—rougher. Her eyes met his, were captured. His hand grazed over her breast, slid down her stomach, and inched slowly toward her mound. And she realized, with each man who touched her, she liked it less and less.

His mouth curved. “That's what I thought,” he murmured and leaned forward to say quietly into her ear, “I'd have enjoyed teasing that pretty clit, but it appears you're not going to enjoy anyone's touch except a certain dom's.”

She stared at him in dismay. “No.”

“Oh yes.” His hand slid down over her pussy, and she had to force herself not to pull away. She'd make herself like this.

“Some little subs enjoy a variety; some enjoy just a few special men. And some want only one. Just one master of their own.” His fingers stroked her pussy gently as he leaned an arm on one of the uprights and talked to her.

One master. Just one. Master.

“I must say,” he said softly, as if he spoke only to himself, “I used to think that way too. Want only one. But I've done that, and it's… If it doesn't work…” He shrugged, and she saw pain smoldering in his eyes.

Oh, honey. Her heart squeezed. To give up on love… “No, Jake, just because once didn't work, you mustn't stop trying.”

“Time.”

His hand pressed against her clit, still not arousing, as he brushed a kiss over her lips. “Rona, just because once didn't work,” he repeated back to her, “you mustn't stop trying.”

The look he gave her sliced through her defenses like a surgeon's scalpel.

Simon closed his eyes and exhaled. If he'd had to watch Jake's hands on Rona for one second longer, he'd have broken something. With good control, the something might have been the table; otherwise, the bastard's jaw.

His sub had smiled at Jake. She'd talked to him and hadn't pulled away. Jaw tense enough to ache, Simon reset the small kitchen timer and nodded to the next dom. How much of this could he take?

But if she really desired variety, then he'd see she got it, even if his guts twisted into painful knots. She wanted him; he knew that, but either she'd realize it…or she wouldn't. And if she found someone who turned her on—Simon closed his eyes at the sheer stab of pain—then that would be that. No one ever said life had to be fair or that if you fell hard for a woman, that she must return the favor.

He inhaled and set himself to endure some more.

Rona set her teeth and endured the next dom's touch on her nipples. He wasn't handsome, but older and very polite. She felt nothing.

“Time.”

She got a break as more of the doms cut cards, and Jake's words—her own words—kept circling her mind like one of those tunes that wouldn't leave. “Just because once didn't work…”

She'd been married—involved—once. Just once in her life. It hadn't worked.

And based on that single instance, she'd decided against risking involvement again.

Decided she needed to experience everything she'd missed. But after this assortment of men—and face it, any woman would want a man like Jake—she had to admit she felt nothing from them.

Yet one word from Master Simon sent zings and whistles through her like her body'd turned into an old-fashioned pinball machine. And it was more than just excitement, he felt right to her. Like she belonged with him. So why did she stubbornly insist on wanting more men?

How long would she continue to ignore her own feelings?

When the next man approached, she looked him in the eye and said,

“Houston.”

“What?” He gaped at her.

“I'm finished. Houston. Let me down.”

Master Simon walked up with that prowling, always balanced gait of his.

The strange dom told him, “She said Houston.”

“I heard.” The look Simon gave her held no expression whatsoever.

Was he disappointed in her? She bit her lip and looked away as doubt crawled into her stomach and sent cold tentacles through her chest. Maybe he'd decided this was a good way to find her another guy.

“Scene's over, lads,” Simon told the waiting doms. “The sub thanks you for your interest.”

Rona nodded and tried to smile at the men, feeling her lips quiver. Her eyes stung. She'd thought Simon wanted her, but the cold way he looked at her now…

“I want down.” Her voice shook. I want my clothes, and I want to leave. First he wants me, and then he doesn't, and—

Firm fingers grasped her chin, lifting it. “Look at me, Rona.”

She looked past him, over his big shoulder. I will not cry, not for this cold dom who flip-flops like a fish on dry land.

A soft snort of laugher, then his voice lowered. “Look. At. Me.”

Her eyes flashed to his and were caught and pinned in his intent gaze.

“That's better,” he murmured. “What is going through that clever brain of yours, lass?” The warm, caressing tone wrapped her in warmth.

She tried to shake her head, and his fingers tightened.

“Answer me.”

“You looked so angry.”

“And you thought I was angry with you?” One corner of his mouth turned up.

“Sweetheart, do you know how difficult it was to watch other men touching you?”

His thumb stroked over her lips. “I haven't been possessive of a woman in a very long time, but you do bring that out.”

Oh. Relief welled up in her like a bubbling spring. “I didn't like being touched by them.”

His lips curved. “I noticed that,” he said agreeably. In the same move as Jake's, he leaned an arm next to hers on the upright, obviously prepared to listen as long as she wanted to talk.

“They bored me.” She took a breath. “I was bored with my husband too. I blamed it on being with just one man.”

He tilted his head. Go on.

“Apparently having more men isn't the answer.” She smiled at him. The banked heat in his eyes showed he was patiently waiting for her to finish, and then he'd take her. The knowledge set everything inside her to a boil. “You don't bore me, Simon.”

His expression chilled, sending both anxiety and arousal sizzling through her.

“Who?”

Jake's word—“Master”—slid into her mind and trembled across her heart, but she still couldn't bring herself to say it. “Sir,” she offered hastily.

“That's better.” His fingers threaded through her hair. “For that, you deserve a reward.”

Currents of excitement hummed through her system. Her breasts tingled. He hadn't even touched them, and they tingled. This man—the dom—was definitely the man for her. “Oh?”

“You're in an excellent position for a flogging,” he murmured. He wet one finger and circled her nipple. As the dampness cooled, the areola bunched into an aching peak. “How would the tips of a flogger feel against all this tender tissue?”

Even as her eyes widened, she felt the wetness between her legs. Lightning raced up her spine.

“Yes, look at those cheeks turn pink,” he said, this dom who saw everything.

His hand slid down the same path that Jake's had, and with his black eyes watching her so intently, just his touch made her shudder. He stroked past her mound, through the growing wetness, and up to slide over her sensitive clit. He touched her firmly, then gently, until she whimpered. Her hips tilted forward. More.

“No, you will not come yet. Or even very soon,” he whispered, biting her earlobe. “First I'm going to tease you with the flogger and with my mouth and then take you, right here on the cross, until you scream so loudly that no man in the place will doubt whose sub you are. And neither will you.”

Her breath caught.

The grin that flashed over his face set her heart to thumping before he took her lips in a devastating kiss. He cupped her breast, still puffy from his attentions earlier, and the muscles in his jaw set. “I realize you don't want to jump into any commitments, but it's too late, my practical lass.”

“But—” When his eyes hardened, she felt every drop of resistance drain right out of her.

“And as long as we are involved, you will not be sampling a variety pack of men.” His grin flashed. “However, I guarantee I will not allow you to be bored, whether we are together a year…or fifty.”

Even as she shook her head in a reflexive refusal, she remembered the old woman buying the fortieth-anniversary toy for Henry. Obviously a relationship didn't have to be a trap. Rona could experience the world with just one man.

When Simon started to roll up his sleeves, her mouth went dry. He stepped back, inspecting her body slowly. “Say, 'Yes, Master.'”

Did she want to give him more? Give him everything? Just because he could dominate her? But she wanted him. Just him. Her eyes misted, blurring everything except his face…and his dark eyes, where the tenderness was as obvious as his controlled power. He cared for her. Oh, he really did.

Her heart somersaulted inside her chest, then settled, a solid weight of acceptance.

It was time to write a new five-year plan.

He ran a finger down her chin. “Well, lass?”

“Yes.” She smiled and tipped her cheek into his palm. “Yes, my Master.”