Dominion Trust Series - Vol.1 by Trent Evans

eyelashes. “I’d say she’s well aware of her place.”
    “I wasn’t talking about Erica,” he rumbled.
    Yes, it had been much too long for many things. He used to obsess about when he’d next get his hands on his gorgeous, bewitching wife. Imagine the color and shape of the weals his whip would raise over her ass, her anguished cries filling the air. All of it culminating in the animal, primal energy of their fucking, taking her the way a woman like her needed, her body yielding to his lusts.
    Deep blue eyes flashed at him, her smile faltering just a tiny bit. “Let’s get a drink.”
    His hand caught her arm as she moved past him toward the bar. “Not here. Let her sleep a while. She’s tired.”
    Kathryn allowed him to reel her back into his arms, and he kissed her cheeks, her eyelids. Her scent was something he’d never cease to enjoy. She always smelled so good — even after a nonstop from Bismarck to Portland. He worked the jacket off, his hands itching to reacquaint themselves with her flesh.
    His flesh.
    Slipping out of his grasp, she sauntered to the door, looking back at him as she finally loosened her hair, the golden mass of it falling all about her face. “Outside,” she whispered, and disappeared down the hall.
    Ana, dressed in only her diaphanous nightgown, met him at the door. The dark surrounds of her nipples beneath the sheer fabric were plainly visible in the hallway light, and Blaine tore his gaze away from them to look back at the bound beauty slumbering on his bed.
    The buxom maid’s brow furrowed. “Everything okay, Sir?”
    “Leave her there until she wakes,” he said, laying a finger along a soft olive cheek, bringing her gaze up to his. “When she does, give her whatever she needs — but this door stays locked when you’re finished. Understand?”
    Ana lowered her gaze, her hands clasped in front of her thighs. “Of course, Sir.” The dark nipples hardened under Blaine’s gaze, and he considered taking Ana out to the deck with him and Kathryn. It would not have been the first time they had pressed their maid into other… duties.
    He kissed the mass of Ana's dark hair, then went searching for his wayward wife.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Three
     
    T he night air smelled faintly of sea and sulfur, the locals already lighting off a wealth of fireworks all around them. Kathryn sipped from her wine, her glass dangling in her long fingers, her slender, yet shapely figure leaning over, elbows poised on the black wrought iron of the railing. Strands of long hair blew about in the breeze, the wildness of it such a contrast to her normal compact, tightly controlled state.
    His hand stroked lazily over the curve of her ass, so nicely displayed in the tight slacks. “You’ve gotta be beat, Kathryn. We don’t need to do this tonight, you know.”
    Her gaze turned up to him, her face only partially illuminated by the streetlamps below. “I’m ready. We’re ready.”
    Blaine shrugged, leaning his hip against the railing. He moved his hand up her back and submerged it in the heavy tresses. She moaned, arching her head up as he massaged her scalp.
    “Maybe, maybe not.” he said. “What makes you so sure?”
    “God, that’s fucking amazing, Blaine.”
    “I aim to please,” he murmured. He grasped her nape in a firm grip, her body tensing. “But answer the question.”
    She looked at him again, smiling. “Why do you play games like this? I know how much you want her. It’s plain to see.”
    “You want her every bit as much as I do.” He wondered some days if she might actually prefer the young innocent to her own husband. Perhaps it was simply infatuation — it wasn’t as if he weren’t guilty of his share of obsessing over the fetching girl.
    “Mm hmm,” she murmured. “And your point?”
    Blaine pulled her head up, forcing Kathryn to straighten. “You forget yourself, wife.”
    She caught her breath, her sparkling eyes searching his. “Make me remember,