Master of the Mountain by Cherise Sinclair


  Her body tightened as her climax approached, and her hips pushed forward as far as the strap allowed.

  He stopped again.

  No. Her clit felt so tight and swollen, it throbbed with every beat of her pulse. And she couldn't hold back a whimper. “Pleeeese.”

  He didn't answer.

  She lifted her head to look down at him.

  He sat between her legs, the sun gleaming off his tanned shoulders. When he met her gaze, the corners of his eyes crinkled. He set one callused hand on her thigh and squeezed.

  The sensation shot straight to her clit, making it worse. Everything he did made it worse, but he deliberately wasn't letting her come. Damn him! She let her head fall back onto the tree. She yanked at her restraints, wanting to be free, to get away from him. “I don't want to play this game anymo—”

  Something circled her opening, then plunged into her, fast and hard. His finger.

  Her nerves inside shot awake like an electric current. “Aaah!” Her loud voice startled her, and she tightened her lips. Outside. Don't make noise.

  He set his mouth on her, licking mercilessly along one side of her clit. When his tongue lifted, his long finger thrust in and out of her vagina, scraping against her inner labia. Another lick just at the edge, another glide of his finger through her swollen tissues.

  Not enough. Never enough, and yet too much to let her arousal die. His finger and tongue worked her until she quivered at the precipice. Each exquisitely calculated touch strummed through her body, building sensation upon sensation until she couldn't think, could only tremble and strain for what seemed like forever. For that one final…

  His mouth came down on her, pressing her clit between firm lips, his tongue swirling on top, even as he thrust two fingers into her.

  The explosion of sheer pleasure crashed through her, and the blue sky seemed to splinter into bright white pieces. Her hips bucked futilely against the strap as wave after wave of ecstasy rippled from her center outward.

  When he lifted his head and removed his fingers from inside her, her muscles went limp as if a balloon had been popped. She could hear high shrieking echoes rolling through the mountains. Oh God. Had she—

  Before the echoes had died completely, Logan leaned forward, his lips closing on her clit. And this time he sucked gently and thrust two fingers into her.

  Everything inside her contracted and then exploded again. She let out a long wailing cry as her insides spasmed around his moving fingers, as sensations rebounded through her with every tightening of his lips.

  He drew it out until she was too exhausted to even moan.

  Rising, he leaned against her, sandwiching her between his body and the tree trunk. Comforting her with his nearness.

  She sighed and blinked at him. “I've never… That… Amazing.” Her voice didn't sound right, too husky. Her throat felt raw.

  He propped his arms over her raised ones and took her mouth, silencing her. His lips tasted of her as he kissed her, slowly, tenderly.

  Gratitude filled Rebecca at his gentleness. Despite the lethargy of her body, her feelings roiled like a storm inside her. Her world had changed in the last two days and even more just now. Who had she become? But when he kissed her, she knew she was Rebecca, who was experimenting with BDSM stuff, not someone she didn't know at all.

  When he lifted his head, he cupped her cheek with a warm hand. “You are wonderful, little rebel,” he whispered. “Responsive and passionate. I have never enjoyed a woman so much.”

  His words thrilled her. Passionate? Her? Then she frowned. “You didn't… How could you have enjoyed yourself?”

  “Sweetheart, I like to take control as much as you are aroused by giving it.” He bit her shoulder, a sharp nip that sent a shock through her body. “To make you quiver, moan…” He gave her a wicked grin. “And scream.”

  “Oh.” If she hadn't been held up by chains and the strap, she'd have been in a puddle at his feet. “Are you going to let me go now?”

  The gleam growing in his eyes worried her. “No, little sub. Now I'm going to take you.” He held her eyes, and she could hear the zipper of his jeans and the crinkling sound of a condom wrapper. His warm hands stroked up her thighs and spread her folds. He eased a finger inside.

  She gasped at the intimate touch, the slide over her oversensitive tissues.

  “You're wet. You're spread open for me. I'm going to fuck you hard, Becca, and all you can do is take it.”

  She could feel her insides clench at his words, and from the satisfied smile on his face, so could he. His finger slid out, and then his cock pressed against her core, sliding in her wetness, each graze of his hand across her clit making her jump. She looked down, trying to see.

  “Keep your eyes on mine, Rebecca.” His voice was deep, his eyes piercing. And then he drove into her, farther and farther, his thickness pushing her open, filling her to discomfort. Her breathing turned ragged. A thrumming started in her head as his groin made contact with her overstimulated clit.

  He eased out. The next surge back in made her gasp.

  With a faint smile, he increased his speed, each thrust forceful enough to tighten the ropes on her ankles and press her against the tree trunk. He moved a hand down to fondle her breast. When he squeezed her nipple, pain and then disconcerting pleasure seared down toward her clit to be met by the sensations expanding outward from the rhythmic, intense pounding.

  And suddenly, the erotic sensations turned into feverish need. Now with each thrust of his cock, his pelvis dragged over her clit, making her whole lower half burn with urgency. Her hips swiveled, trying to rub her pussy against him.

  He chuckled. “All right. I think you've had enough frustration for one afternoon.” He reached down, and then knowing fingers stroked through her folds, rubbing to match the rhythm of his thrusts until everything in her surged with his movements, higher and higher. Her inside muscles clenched around him as he brought her to the peak.

  “Come for me, Rebecca.” The command hit her ears as his fingers pinched her clit, and he plunged his cock deeply into her.

  Pleasure exploded outward like fire, shooting from her core to her toes and her fingers, until her whole body shuddered. Her pelvis thrashed against his fingers.

  With a deep laugh, he grasped her hips with ruthless hands and hammered into her, hard and fast. And then with a low growl, he pressed in so deep and far, she could feel the jerking of his release against her womb.

  With a quiet sigh, he leaned back far enough to release her wrists, then remained on top of her. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling the bunching of his muscles as he took some of his weight by resting his forearms over her head. His chest was hot and damp against her breasts, his face scratchy as he nuzzled her face and neck. When he lifted his head and took her lips, she opened to him, willing to give him whatever he wanted.

  What a scary thought. She'd never felt anything like this before. She'd never been so out of control. Out of control? Heck, she'd never gotten a chance to have any control even from the beginning; he'd done what he wanted all the way through. That thought sent a tremor through her, making her clench around him again.

  He felt it and lifted his head. “You going to tell me what that thought was?”

  “No.” She closed her eyes, wishing she could hide her face. What kind of person reveled in having someone else control them? The feeling of him looking at her was like warm sunlight, and his silence made her nervous. She sneaked a look.

  His eyes were the blue of a winter sky as he laid his hand over her neck, just enough to let her feel his strength and the heat, and then he said in a rough, dark voice, “Next time, I'll tie you more open, so I can see all of your pussy.”

  Her insides spasmed.

  “I'll turn you over and hold you in place while I take you from behind.” His grip tightened infinitesimally.

  Her vagina clamped down on his cock so hard, she moaned.

  His eyes crinkled as he pressed a hard kiss to her lip
s. “You didn't need to answer me about your thoughts, pet. Your body gave it away.”

  She could feel the flush heat her neck and her face as he chuckled.

  * * * * *

  They made it back to the lodge in the late afternoon. Logan unlocked the door to the stairway and nodded toward his quarters. “Go shower in my quarters; I'll use Jake's. It won't be long before your group returns.”

  His little rebel wrinkled her nose at him, obviously not thrilled about eating with the swingers. When she got halfway up, he said, “Grab another flannel shirt from my closet.”

  A soft laugh was his only answer. He watched her take the last few stairs, enjoying the view of her round ass in tight jeans. He hadn't taken her from behind yet, and his statement from the afternoon had embedded the vision in his mind. Sinking his fingers into her soft hips and pulling her back onto…

  Logan frowned up the stairs. Right now, she'd disappeared into his rooms; soon she'd disappear for good. And he'd miss her. He already knew that.

  This afternoon, after he'd released her from the restraints, they'd worked together on the trail. She had wanted to help, even though she'd obviously never done outdoor work in her life. She'd stop every now and again to really look at the forest, spotting the tiny shrew scrambling back under a log, the doe and fawn watching silently from some brush, the hummingbird hovering over the flowering red paintbrush. He'd heard her mutter more than once, “I need my paints.” She laughed easily and worked cheerfully, uncaring of her hands or clothing.

  She'd disagreed over where rocks should go in a stream crossing and argued with him. Hands on her hips, face pink, and eyes sparkling. He'd turned as hard as the rocks they were discussing. She'd won the argument too.

  Logan grinned, then sobered and rubbed his face. The rebel had ambushed him with her laughter and intelligence. With those green eyes full of wonder. And with her surrender to him.

  She was submissive in bed and feisty the rest of the time, not a slave who wanted to be under command twenty-four hours a day. After watching Jake and Mimi's failed relationship, Logan knew he couldn't tolerate that depth of submission. His gut twisted as he remembered Mimi's despair when Jake had uncollared her, and Jake's horror when he told Logan how she'd taken her life.

  He heard the shower come on upstairs and shook his head. Why was he bothering to think about Jake and Mimi…or Becca either? The woman would be gone day after tomorrow.

  Fuck.

  * * * * *

  Rebecca arrived downstairs in time to see Logan disappear into a room she hadn't seen yet. She followed, and her mouth dropped open. A deluxe pool table on one side and a long rack of cues hanging on the wall. A Ping-Pong table and a foosball table occupied the middle of the room. A dartboard hung on the opposite wall. “Wow. Is this where you spend your winters?”

  Logan turned, a smile lighting his eyes to a true blue. “Actually, we close the place down after the first snow and take off for warmer climes. Scuba diving, sailing, deep-sea fishing.”

  Oh, she could see him, cutoff shorts, barefoot. Shirtless. Especially shirtless, with that muscled chest and broad shoulders and dark tan. She shook her head—bad Rebecca—and said lightly, “Sounds like fun.”

  “It is.” He nodded at the room in general. “Choose your game, rebel.”

  Hands behind her back, she strolled across the room like a supervisor. Everything was top quality; obviously the boys liked their toys. When she reached him, she grinned. While working in a fraternity, she'd learned more than just how to cook. “Let's start with pool. The winner gets to pick the next game.”

  He glanced down, and a crease appeared in his cheek.

  She followed his gaze. Oh heck, hands behind the back while wearing an oversize flannel shirt was not a good idea.

  “And the loser?” His eyes glinted in a way she didn't trust, especially when his finger trailed down between her breasts.

  “Ah. The loser won't get to pick a game?” she said weakly. How could he turn her on like this, just with a touch?

  He chuckled and handed her a pool cue. “Break.”

  Half an hour later, if she could have removed the flannel shirt without being indecent, she would have. The room felt way too warm, or maybe she was going through early menopause and having hot flashes.

  How could Logan turn a simple game of pool into something erotic? All his attention appeared to be on the table, but his choice of shots always brought him next to her, and he touched her every time he walked past. A pat on her shoulder, a hand on her waist, a squeeze of her bottom. When she had to stretch out to make a shot, he'd stand at the other end, and his gaze down her front would be so heated that he might as well have taken her breasts in his hands.

  He won by one stinking ball. Next time she'd try that sneaky way of distracting an opponent on him.

  After putting their sticks away, he said, “The winner gets a victory kiss.” He yanked her into his arms without waiting for her answer. With a fist in her hair, he tipped her head back and took her mouth. His other hand curved under her bottom and pulled her onto her tiptoes and against a rock-hard erection. Plunging his tongue deep, he possessed her in the same way he'd taken her body earlier.

  All the teasing he'd done during the game was like kindling that now shot up into flames. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him anything he wanted.

  With a low growl, he released her and then had to grab her arms when her knees buckled. He had a devastating grin, one that made her emotions turn all squashy. God, she could so easily fall in—She froze, her mouth dropping open. No. No. Absolutely not. No getting hung up emotionally on this man, no matter how gorgeous. No matter how he made her feel. Yes, he was smart and protective and…God, so male. He could laugh at himself and didn't get all territorial. When she argued with him about the trail, he'd just studied her solution and said, “You're right. Your way is better.”

  The sex was great, and…he liked her.

  Unnerved, she ran her fingers through her hair. But she lived in San Francisco. I need to go home right now.

  “Becca?” He frowned down into her face. His hands curved around her upper arms, pulling her onto tiptoes. He took her mouth so gently that this kiss was even more devastating than the last. Encased in her chest where it should have been safe, her heart melted like wax in a hot sun.

  “That looked like fun,” a dry voice said from the doorway.

  Rebecca spun. Leaning against the door frame, Logan's brother had his arms crossed over his chest. His blue eyes, a shade lighter than Logan's, danced with laughter, although no smile graced his lips.

  “The horde is back, then.” Logan pulled Rebecca to his side with an unyielding arm around her waist. “You're running late.”

  “It was a slow hike down after Brandon pulled a muscle, so it'll be a while till supper.” Jake finally grinned. “I wanted to see if you were interested in a beer and a game of poker before we eat.”

  “Usual stakes?”

  “Chores?” Jake snorted and then glanced at Rebecca. “Sure.”

  Well, while they were playing, she'd be able to cool down, give herself a good talking-to, and then maybe see about helping with supper. But when she tried to move away, Logan's arm tightened.

  She looked up with a frown.

  He ran a finger down her cheek. “How well do you know poker?”

  “Not that well.”

  “Good.”

  * * * * *

  Rebecca owed Logan a blowjob? All Jake had lost were two days of doing the dishes. Still a bit stunned and trying not to think about taking Logan's cock into her mouth, licking it, sucking… Darn it. She grabbed a Yosemite flyer someone had left on the dining room table and used it to fan herself.

  When she stepped into the kitchen, she realized she'd arrived too late to do anything except make gravy for the mashed potatoes. Once finished with that, she noticed Thor sitting patiently just inside the kitchen door. The tidbits she dropped in front of him were woofed up quickly, and she couldn'
t help but notice his big teeth.

  Shoving down her fear, she knelt to give him a hug, getting a quick lick in turn. His friendship was the best thing that had happened all week—except for Logan. God. She set her hand on her fluttering stomach. Do not think about Logan.

  A pair of boots stopped beside her, and she looked up with a quick intake of breath…and let it out. Jake, not Logan.

  Jake tossed Thor a piece of roast beef. The dog caught the morsel with an unsettling snap of sharp teeth that didn't bother Rebecca at all. Much.

  “What a moocher.” She scrambled to her feet.

  “When it comes to food, he has no dignity whatsoever.” Jake had a laugh even deeper than Logan's but less rough. “The minute food's on, he's in the kitchen waiting. He's never missed a meal since Logan found him.” He grinned and ruffled the thick fur. “A homeless guy never passes up a handout, right, buddy?”

  Thor whuffed and looked hopefully at the dishes being carried out to the dining room.

  “Logan found him?” Rebecca prompted, trying not to look nosy.

  “All skin and bones, trying to get into the garbage behind our hotel in San Francisco. He growled at me, and I would have left, but Logan—” Jake shook his head. “If something's wrong, he's just got to try and fix it. He sat out there for an hour, discussing the weather with Thor. And when we came back here, we had us a flea-ridden, scrawny dog.” His words sounded harsh, but the hand stroking Thor's head was as gentle as…as Logan's.

  She could just see Logan in some alley, sitting on a crate, long legs outstretched. Taming Thor's fear the same way he'd tamed hers. And when he snapped his fingers, Thor would have followed without a second thought. She bit her lip, feeling sadness curl up inside her. Logan wouldn't be snapping his fingers and taking her home.

  As Jake walked away, Rebecca bent over and gave Thor another hug. “You're a lucky guy,” she whispered in the furry ear.

  “Rebecca, does anything else go out?” Paul yelled from inside the dining room.

 
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