A/N: More AU Sara with control-freaky Harry. It's my guilty pleasure ATM. Harry catches Sara doing something he doesn't approve of. Wicked punishment ensues. Warnings for teasing and delayed orgasm. Timing of this is during the same furlough as chapter 12.
Sara sat on a bench in one of the Nexus's numerous recreational parks. This one was close to where Scott docked the Tempest when he was on-station, decorated with flora native to human colonies back in the Milky Way.
After unpacking and running a few errands, she'd found herself with time to burn. It had seemed like an opportune time to try something that had been given to her by Kim Conner during her latest tour. The park was the closest thing to actually being outdoors that the Nexus had to offer, so she'd made her way there, past the picnic tables and people busy with their lunches, to a secluded area near a cluster of tall trees, and found a place to sit.
She carefully pulled the cigar from the inner pocket of her jacket, rolling it around between the fingers of both hands. She didn't know anything about cigars, but it smelled good, and the thought of trying it, even for only a few puffs, sent a surge of excitement through her that she just couldn't ignore.
It was most likely designated as contraband on the station, but there were still very few militia members patrolling the area. Casting her gaze around, she felt confident that she wouldn't be chanced upon. She lit it with an old-fashioned match, the way she'd been advised, and took a deep pull from it, holding the smoke in her lungs.
Just as she was starting to feel light-headed, air burst from her chest and she lapsed into a coughing fit.
Her eyes watered, and she clenched them shut, seeking relief.
A hand came down on her right shoulder, and she jumped, nearly dropping the cigar as her eyes flew open.
"Harry!" She didn't know which was stronger within her, the sense of relief that it wasn't somebody else or distress to be caught so unprepared by the man whose opinion mattered most.
She saw a flash of green as his eyes lit upon what she held in her hand.
His shadow fell across her face as he moved to stand in front of her, towering over where she sat. "That thing is atrociously bad for you."
"Yeah, it is," she agreed, nodding her head. She wanted to tell him right away that she regretted even trying the foul-tasting health hazard, but something in his expression shot excitement up her spine. He really didn't approve, and the most wicked part of Sara wanted to find out what he was going to do about that. She turned the glowing tip of the cigar toward her, examining it in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner.
"Why would you do such a thing to your perfect body? It's a temple, you know." His voice was deep and low, ensuring that nobody nearby would have the chance to overhear him. "And it no longer belongs to just you."
She felt her toes curl at the possessive insinuation. Doing her best to appear unconcerned, she shrugged her shoulders, pulling the cigar in for another drag.
"Please, don't," he said firmly. Somehow it didn't sound like a request.
She realized that some part of her wanted to hear Harry bark orders. Was she sick and messed up for feeling like this? Was it the same part of her that always wanted more attention than her father ever gave her? She should be chomping at the bit, incensed that a man so newly her lover would presume to make decisions for her, no matter how small. Instead, she felt thrilled and more than a little turned on.
With an overly exaggerated sigh, she leaned down and crushed the lit end of the cigar out on the ground.
He took it from her, dropping it into a trash bin located just a few feet away.
Turning back, he reached a gloved hand out to her. "Come."
She took his hand, allowing him to pull her up and onto her feet. "Where?"
He answered her question with one of his own. "Your place or mine?"
"How about both?" she countered, feeling mouthy and eager.
He didn't look amused as he repeated, "Your place or mine?"
"Alright, mine."
He kept hold of her hand, his grip firm and instant as he led the way to the tram.
"Shouldn't you be working?" she asked. It was a nice surprise, seeing him at midday, but hardly normal.
"I have to go back and work late into the night, so I'm taking a break for a few hours ahead of it."
He should probably get some sleep, but Sara couldn't help but be grateful that he'd opted to spend the time with her, instead.
The tram ride passed in a blur as she looked down to where his hand enveloped hers. She felt weak in the knees as she followed him to her apartment, her head spinning with the knowledge that he was planning some kind of naughty punishment.
He knew the code to her door lock and she watched him key it in before he dropped her hand and allowed her to precede him inside.
She felt breathless as she turned to face him after the door closed behind them.
Stepping close, he gripped her by her upper arm, pulling her through the living space and into her bedroom. He released her, moving to turn on the lights. His face was shuttered, revealing nothing of how he was feeling. "Take off your clothes." He had that tone, the one that sent shivers all over her body, firing her blood.
"Okay."
"Do as I say, and don't speak."
She swallowed heavily as her belly tightened with arousal.
She tugged her arms free of her jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Next, she lifted the hem of her shirt, pulling the garment inside out as it came off over her head. His intense green eyes tracked her movements as she toed off her shoes, unbuckling her belt before opening the fastenings on her pants. She felt gooseflesh spread over her skin as she pushed the heavy fabric down her legs, stepping free of both her pants and socks, leaving only her bra and panties.
Sara had a thing for the color purple, but she'd recently gathered that Harry favored red. She'd been working on supplementing her wardrobe with touches of crimson, and from the way his eyelids slid down to hood the piercing green, the shade of the underwear she'd chosen affected him just as she'd hoped it would.
Unclipping the bra, she let it fall down her arms, shimmying her hips as the panties slid over her thighs.
As soon as the last piece fell away he stepped close, hands ghosting over her back as he nuzzled his face into her neck. "The smoke from that thing lingers on you," he rasped against her. He scraped his teeth up her throat, making her shiver. "I love the way you smell without it."
She felt bad, like she needed a shower.
His hands fell back to his sides as he moved back a fraction. "Lay down."
She did as she was told, her mouth going dry as she lay back on the soft comforter she'd chosen. She wanted to arrange herself into a sexy pose, but her body felt beyond her control, tensing as she watched him start to pull off his own clothing.
He stripped with mechanical efficiency, removing his gloves and shirt, working his belt buckle before shucking off his boxer briefs and pants, completely unabashed as he bared his body under the heat of her gaze.
The sight of his naked flesh make her fingers twitch. She wanted to touch him more than anything, but she knew it wasn't the occasion to push for it. She'd always had a thing for lat muscles, the ones under men's arms. They were so delightfully masculine, since women weren't able to develop them the same way, and Harry's were tempting and well-defined.
He climbed up her body on all fours, settling himself down so his knees slid against her ass and pushed her thighs up, forcing her legs open wide. He hovered over her, looking down at her with those hypnotic pools of green.
Bracing himself on one strong arm, he dragged the hand of the other down her throat, bringing it to rest between her breasts. He swept his fingers over her collarbone, tracing a path down over her sternum. Her breasts trembled as his hand traveled down, tracing a circle around her navel.
His touch was so sweet and gentle, Sara started to believe that she'd imagined some of his anger. Other than his order of silence, this didn't seem much different from how he usually behaved when they were alone.
He brushed his lips against her ear, speaking in a seductive whisper. "Move your arms up over your head, and keep them still, like I'm holding you there."
She obeyed immediately.
"Good girl." He dragged his teeth down her neck, and then back up, adding, "Remember what I told you before? Tell me to stop, and I will."
That set off some warning bells. What kind of game were they going to play? Anticipation lanced her as her hands helplessly curled against nothing.
His fingers strayed low on her abdomen, brushing her skin with the faintest of touches before continuing down to her pussy, laid open to him by their position.
His fingertips rasped over her, sliding along her slit. She was drenched, slick with her juices, evidence of how hot she was for him. He spread her moisture up over her clit, softening the contact of his fingers and easing his touch so he didn't rub her raw.
His gentle ministrations had her shuddering, her thighs tensing around him. She gasped out, "Harry, please."
"Quiet." He bit a line down neck and across her chest, zeroing in on her nipples. He nibbled on the tight peaks, dragging his tongue roughly over the tips before biting down on her.
Sara did her best to keep quiet, but she could hear the noises she made, almost like they were coming from someone else, pathetic-sounding whimpers and weak little cries as he toyed with her clit. He slid the pads of his fingertips along her folds, pushing her open and then sliding across the top of her bud, quickly retreating when she got too close to her peak.
She felt herself pushing into his fingers, desperate for just a little more pressure, a little more friction to work herself against, a little more of his attention.
Over and over, he pushed her to the brink, until her body ached, her belly felt sore, and she was certain she'd die from his teasing.
She arched her back, trying to close her legs against his hand, but the width of his body prevented more than an ineffective struggle. She could feel the tremors travel the length of her body, she'd never felt anything like it, it was amazing and awful.
If she could speak, she'd be babbling, begging him to let her come. She had to settle for stuttering gasps and groans of frustration.
She considered asking him to stop. She couldn't take any more, and she was seriously starting to wonder if she wouldn't, in fact, parish from what her body was going through.
She cried out weakly as he brought her to a particularly sharp edge, pulses of pleasure slipping away as her head moved back and forth in denial, her eyes tightly closed.
He stopped, his hands moving up to cup her face. He rubbed around her eyes with his thumbs, brushing away tears, and only then did she realize that she was crying.
"Do you have something to say to me?" He asked. His voice had lost its sharp edge.
"Yes," she said brokenly.
"You may speak."
"I'm sorry, Harry."
"And?"
"And I'll never, ever do it again."
As soon as the words left her lips, one hand moved from her face, and he pressed his thumb and forefinger around her clit, pinching it with a measured grip.
She screamed as her orgasm rushed over her, rolling outward in waves from her womb to her belly and through every muscle in her body. It was all the more intense for having been denied for so long.
He kissed her, long and deep as he moved to bracket her wrists where they lay above her head with his left hand. He used his right to guide his cock to her spasming pussy. He nudged against her, slipping through her wetness to work the head inside. He pushed into her with firm pressure, steadily rolling his hips as her body opened to take him.
Her breath came out in uneven pants and her back arched as he worked himself into her, pushing hard and deep.
He groaned as he hilted, his green eyes blazing down at her before sliding shut.
He fucked her, strong and hard, using his grip on her wrists as leverage, the other hand cupping one side of her ass, pushing her up into his thrusts. He grunted as his hips snapped into hers, pushing her up on the bed, working over her at a frantic pace.
Pleasure shot along all of her nerve endings, her body gratefully sucking at his cock as he took her, her pussy greedy for the length and the breadth of him. She moved into his thrusts like she'd never get enough of him, desperate to feel each and every sensation.
A burning pulse flowered open in her belly, spreading over her body and she flew apart, her breath hitching as she milked him with fierce contractions.
He pushed past her tight constrictions for a few labored thrusts, and holding deep, he flooded her insides with warmth.
He pulled free of her body with a soft intake of breath. He always took care of her after sex, bringing a warm washcloth to bear on the swollen flesh between her legs. He wiped his seed from her more gently than he'd ever been, a look of reverence coming over him as he finished and set her legs together. Rejoining her on the bed, he settled them under the covers, pulling her up against him. He stroked wisps of hair back from her face, his hand softly touching her cheeks while he searched her eyes. The kiss he gave her was achingly sweet, and when it ended, she felt her heart clench as he turned his head, his deep, regular breaths filling the room as he dropped off to sleep.
As boneless as her body felt, Sara doubted she'd be able to follow, not with the way her thoughts lay heavy and scattered. She rested her face against him, inhaling his scent. She couldn't help but think that what she had with Harry was amazing. And more than a little scary.
A/N: Next chapter will be in Harry's POV. I've been writing a lot of Sara POV while I try to wrestle my way past the trouble I've been having acclimating myself to Dom!Harry. Feedback is much appreciated. :)
Please let me know in comments whether you prefer I write the next piece for Pathfinder Sara/Harry or for AU Sara/Dom!Harry, because the plot bunny I have can work either way.
Aside from that, I have 5 more pieces plotted for AU Sara. Thanks for reading!