Master of the Mountain

by Cherise Sinclair

  “I'm Rebecca.” She shook his hand and then caught sight of Angela standing a few feet back, watching. The woman smiled and nodded approval.

  Simon turned and caught the exchange. “Angela,” he said. As the Domme walked over, Simon tilted his head, glancing between them. “Yours?”

  “No. She's a friend who I'm babysitting as she tiptoes into the scene.” She glanced at Rebecca. “He's experienced, highly regarded, and”—she grinned—“strict but fair.”

  Simon's lips curved. “Quite a reference.”

  Rebecca sucked in a breath. Decision time. He was handsome and definitely a Dom, but she didn't feel any sexual attraction at all. Still, she had to start somewhere. “I think I'd like to try.”

  Simon held out a hand almost as big as Logan's. She put her hand in his, feeling safe and scared at the same time, but still nothing sexual. That seemed strange.

  To her surprise, he didn't take her toward the equipment but over to a nearby couch. He sat beside her, keeping her hand in his. “Have you done anything related to BDSM before?”

  She flushed.

  “I'll take that as a yes.” He massaged her hand gently. “Tied up?”

  She nodded and kept nodding as he ran through a list: breast clamps, spanking, and toys.

  “Anal sex?”

  The memory of the thing, the plug, that Logan had put into her made her shudder. “No. Not really.”

  He chuckled. “I see. Flogging, whipping?”

  She edged away from him.

  “It's not something I'd do with a new sub anyway. Not the first time.” He squeezed her bare shoulder, his grip reassuring rather than sexual. “Submission? Orders? Positions?”

  “Some.”

  “Excellent.” He pointed to the floor. “Show me what you learned.”

  She slid off the couch onto her knees, putting her hands behind her back, too embarrassed to open her legs, even though she'd worn panties.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “He must have been new to the scene to have taught you so poorly.”

  Her face flared with heat, but the idea of him thinking badly of Logan had her spreading her legs open as he'd taught. “I'm sorry, Sir,” she whispered.

  “Ah. Modesty rather than inadequate instruction.” He studied her for a minute. Longer. She kept her eyes on her knees. “Look at me, Rebecca.”

  She looked up at him. He leaned forward and ran a finger over the top of her bustier, touching her, reminding her of—

  He must have seen the flinch she couldn't conceal. His hand dropped. “Tell me about the Dom who taught you. How long were you with him?”

  “Four days.”

  “Must have been a very intense four days.” He leaned back on the couch, his eyes focused on her face. “When you were learning all this, were you also having sex?”

  For a second, she wanted Logan so badly, she could have cried. “Yes,” she whispered.

  Simon's smile was faint. “You obviously care about him, Rebecca. Why are you here?”

  She looked down. How could she tell a perfect stranger about her doubts? A hand under her chin tilted her head up. He caught her gaze with his. “Answer me.”

  “I wasn't sure if what I felt was because of the…the submission stuff or because of him. I thought I should know that.”

  He released her. “Amazing insight, pet. And what have you discovered?”

  “I think it's him.” The answer felt right and yet opened up all sorts of other problems.

  “I think you're right. But you are submissive without a doubt, Rebecca. If it doesn't work out with your man, keep that in mind when you look for another.” Simon leaned back, rested his arms on the back of the couch, and studied her. Sexual or not, she still felt vulnerable under his dark gaze. “BDSM doesn't have to be about sex, you know. Would you like to try some of the equipment without worrying about that?”

  “Really?” She glanced at the manacles, realizing the women had left.

  He gave a deep laugh and smoothly rose to his feet. “Come along, little one. I'll give you your next lesson.” Grasping her arms, he set her on her feet. “What is your safe word?”

  A shiver ran through her as he led her forward, her wrist in his grasp. Not her hand. She wasn't an equal. “Red, Sir.”

  “Good choice.”

  When she started to face the wall, he turned her around. “I want to see your face, and you need to be able to see mine.” His lips quirked. “It's a different feeling too, seeing who's out there.”

  He had commanded her attention so thoroughly, she hadn't realized people were watching. Her face heated, and she took a step away.

  His face turned cold, and his voice chilled. “Rebecca.”

  She froze.

  “If something becomes too much or you cannot tolerate this, use your safe word. Otherwise, you're getting restrained. Right now.”

  Oh God, oh God, oh God. But she held still and let him buckle the cuffs around her wrists. Her breathing sped up, but at least she could move her arms a bit. Even scratch her nose.

  He studied her, then walked over to the wall and tightened the chains hanging from the beam. Now the leeway disappeared as the manacles pulled her arms tightly over her head.

  The feeling of being restrained and vulnerable sent funny sinking sensations through her with each breath, like the floor she stood on wasn't quite solid. Her thudding heart seemed to have moved up into her throat.

  “Look at me, Rebecca.” Simon's body blocked her view of the people watching. His dark eyes were intense as she lifted her gaze to his. “That's a good girl.” He cupped her cheek, his hand warm and comforting.

  As she tugged on the chains, trying to get used to the quivery feeling inside, he asked, “Do you like being restrained?”

  She wanted to glare at him. Just like Logan, asking impossible questions, trying to plumb emotional depths.

  “Rebecca, when I ask a question, I expect an answer, not a glare.”

  His reprimand shuddered down through her bones, making the quiver in her stomach worse. “It's scary. I don't know. I…”

  “Giving control up can be a need that's not necessarily comfortable, especially at first.” He tilted his head. “And being restrained in public? Do you enjoy being watched?”

  She tried to shrug but couldn't move even her shoulders, and that sent another of those weird feelings through her. “It doesn't seem to matter that much.”

  He put his fingers into her cleavage, right over the hooks of her bustier. “If I stripped this off, would you feel the same way?”

  Naked? Instinctively she yanked on the restraints and got nowhere.

  He laughed. “Obviously not. Modest little sub, aren't you?” Rebecca looked past him, out at the crowd. To have them see her without clothing, her big hips on display… Her gaze crossed another's, and her breath strangled in her throat.

  Unwavering blue eyes in a tanned, cold face. Legs apart. A leather vest showing off the muscular arms crossed over his chest. Logan. Her heart started to pound so hard, the entire crowd must have heard it. Simon surely did, for he turned around to follow her gaze.

  Without a word, he walked away, walked right up to Logan, leaving her hanging from the chains. She yanked on the cuffs, and the pit of her stomach twisted. He was here. The surge of pleasure dimmed under the onslaught of questions. What would he think, seeing her like this? Seeing her with Simon?

  And then she remembered that Dark Haven was a popular BDSM club. He hadn't come here to see her. As her hope died, she sagged in the chains. She tried to look away from him, and even knowing the truth, she still couldn't.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Look at her,” Simon said. “She wants to yell for you so bad, she's almost choking with it.”

  Logan smothered the red fury that his little rebel had allowed someone else to touch her. “I hadn't expected to find her out trolling for company,” he growled.

  Simon slapped his back lightly. “Actually, she's trying to discover if her head-over-heels
reaction to you is because she just likes the lifestyle. She wanted to see if she can be turned on by any Dom.”

  “You have got to be joking.”

  “True, old friend. And damned canny of her, I thought.”

  Logan's eyes narrowed. “You realize that if you managed to arouse her, I'm going to rip your guts out.”

  “Lucky for me that she wasn't interested, then,” Simon said lightly.

  Lucky for them both. He'd seen Simon take on a drunk twice his size, and within less than a minute, the guy landed on the ground with a fractured jaw and several busted ribs.

  “Logan,” Simon said seriously. “She's delightful, and I would have enjoyed taking her further into the scene. I'm not the only one either, but she wasn't interested in anyone who approached. She's with me only because I'm a strong Dom, and she wanted to make sure.”

  Logan nodded to the chain station and raised his eyebrows.

  “I asked her if she wanted to try some of the equipment while she's here.” Simon grinned. “You'll forgive me if I thoroughly enjoyed her reaction to being restrained in public for the first time.”

  The last of the rage ebbed out of Logan's veins. He drew in a controlling breath, then turned so he could see his sub and Simon at the same time. “For her sake, I'm glad she found you.” He frowned at Simon, who looked like a fucking GQ model, dammit. “For my sake, I'd rather she'd chosen some pimple-ridden wimp rather than the most popular Dom in Dark Haven.”

  Simon grinned. “I still struck out. I'll bow out at this point before you break your hand on my face.”

  “I appreciate it.” Logan began to relax and enjoy the sight of his little rebel. Her red hair frothed over pale, freckled shoulders. Her breasts almost spilled out of the tight corset, just begging to be touched. A short, full latex skirt bared her legs. Damn, she was gorgeous, and he'd turned harder than a rock seeing her in chains.

  When his gaze returned to her face, he frowned. Her eyes were still focused on him, but the stunned joy had changed into uncertainty, even sadness. And grief? What the hell was going through her head?

  Logan glanced around. Simon had taken a chair nearby, obviously planning to watch for a while. “Simon, what did you say to her just before she saw me? It elicited a nicely terrified reaction.”

  Simon let out a laugh. “She said being in front of a crowd didn't bother her that much. I asked her if she'd feel the same if I stripped her.”

  “Well, then, strip her I will.” After he figured out why she was looking at him with those unhappy eyes.

  “I'd better go talk with her watchdog and keep you from being ripped apart.” He nodded toward a tall Domme, one of the club regulars, who watched them intently. “Your sub is a careful woman.”

  Logan tilted his head, received the same back from the Domme. “Thanks, Simon.” He stood for a minute or two, just watching Rebecca. He wanted to hold her so badly that he had to force himself to walk slowly as he approached.

  Her eyes fixed on him. “Logan?” she whispered, straining at the buckles around her wrist. “What are you doing here?”

  “Seeing you, little rebel. And what are you doing here?”

  To his surprise, her gaze turned down, her lips drooping. “I'm sorry. I didn't know you liked to come here. I'll leave.”

  Leave? She would leave because of him? Anger stirred inside him. This didn't sound like someone head over heels about him. But he'd seen the pleasure in her eyes upon seeing him, before her head had kicked in. So her brain told her…what? “Why would you leave now, Becca? I came here to find you.”

  Her head jerked up, again that joy, and then it faded again. “Sure you did. Just let me down, Logan.”

  “You don't think I might have changed my mind and come after you?”

  “Right. Every guy wants a plump body in his bed.” Her lips tightened. “Stop messing with my mind and unbuckle me.”

  Someone had done some messing with her mind, but it hadn't been him. Guilt washed through him then, as he realized his nasty slap-down hadn't done her self-image any good at all. He'd thrown her out of his life without giving her any reason, so mentally and emotionally she'd gone down the same wrong track she'd been following for years.

  He needed to solve this problem before they could move on. He eyed her, arms nicely restrained. Feeling like she did, he wouldn't get her in this position again.

  Looked like this was the time and this was the place.

  And the beginning of the solution would have to start with him. The thought of talking about his nightmares and Jake twisted his gut. But he owed her this. He'd kept information from her, and she'd suffered for it.

  Logan stood in front of her, watching her with unreadable eyes. Rebecca blinked back tears. Damned if she'd look all sniffly in front of him. “Let me down. Now.”

  “Do you remember me telling you that there must be honesty between a Dom and sub?”

  He obviously wouldn't help her until he had his say. Too bad. She didn't want to listen. Not anymore. “Logan. I want down.” She felt her lips tremble. I want to go home.

  He moved forward, standing so close, his chest touched her breasts. His hand cupped her cheek. “Easy, little rebel.”

  At the affectionate term, her eyes filled, and she tried to pull her face out of his hand. If he acted nice to her, she'd cry.

  This time he used both hands to hold her face so he could look into her eyes. “Becca. I absolutely did not make you leave because of how you look.”

  “Sure.”

  His grip tightened. His eyes closed, and he drew in a deep breath before pinning her with that gray gaze again. “I gave Jake that scar on his face.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and she looked at him in disbelief.

  “I've had nightmares since my discharge. Years. I can't—couldn't tell where the nightmare ended and reality began. A few years ago, Jake woke me up, and I tried to kill him.” He pressed his forehead against hers, and she could feel his breath on her face. “Since then, I've never slept with anyone. Until you. Our last night together, I had a nightmare. Fuck, sugar, when you woke me up, I thought at first I'd hurt you.” He rubbed his cheek on hers like a big cat. “That's why I sent you away.”

  She'd never heard him use the F word before. He had been shaken when he woke from the nightmares. She remembered that. “Nightmares.” His scent surrounded her, so familiar and wonderful that her heart skipped a beat.

  “Uh-huh.” He took an audible breath. “When I didn't hurt you, I figured something had changed over the years. Jake helped me test my control. It looks like I can wake up without trying to murder anyone around me.” His lips curved, although his eyes remained cold. “Do you understand why I sent you away?”

  Well, she knew he had nightmares. But that he really wanted her? “I've seen your nightmares,” she said.

  His gaze intensified. “A yes-no question usually gets a yes-no answer. Becca, do you believe I came to the club looking for you?”

  He loved honesty so much; she'd just give him some. “No.”

  “Because you think no one likes lush women. Is that correct?”

  She nodded.

  “Got it.” His hand fisted in her hair, and he tilted her head back to take her mouth. His kiss was hard, almost punishing, but oh God, she didn't care. His lips gentled, slid over hers. “Simon said you wanted to play. Is that correct?”

  A tremor went through her. Playing with Logan was far, far different from with a stranger. But she wanted him so badly. One more time, even if she knew how it would end. She licked her lips. “Yes.”

  He nodded. His jaw tightened. “Then we'll play, sugar. What's your safe word?”

  “Red.”

  “Good. Since you don't mind being on display”—his eyes gleamed as he studied her face—“you might as well do a good job.” His fingers slid into her cleavage, and he began to pop open the hooks to her bustier. One by one until her breasts were completely exposed.

  “Logan, stop,” she hissed.

  �
��What did you call me?” he asked, undoing the last few hooks.

  “Loga—I mean, Sir.”

  He undid the last hook and tossed the corset off to one side. And then he actually cupped her breasts, right there in front of everyone.

  She shook her head frantically, trying to ignore the thrill the feel of his hands sent through her.

  He frowned at her. Not only did he keep his hands on her, but his thumbs circled her nipples in a way that made her pussy clench. “Is this my body to play with, sub?”

  “But…”

  He raised his eyebrows in query.

  “You said you didn't share,” she whispered. She could feel the way her nipples tightened.

  “No one may touch,” he murmured. “I don't mind if they watch.” And he bent over and pulled a nipple into his mouth, sucking so powerfully, her back arched and pleasure sizzled straight to her pussy.

  When she yanked on the chains, nothing moved.

  “You can't get away, little sub. I can take my pleasure in any way I want, and you can't do a thing to stop me.” He pinched her breast lightly, his lips curving at her gasp. His hand slipped under her skirt, and he frowned. “No underwear in the club. My rule. Am I clear?” His steely eyes trapped hers as he waited for her reply.

  She nodded.

  He ripped open one seam, then the other, and her panties dropped to the floor. Her skirt followed. She barely had time to feel the cool air before his fingers touched her pussy, stroking through her folds. Sliding. “You're wet, little rebel,” he said in a deep voice, his eyes on her face. “For someone who doesn't like being shown off in public, you're awfully aroused.”

  She closed her eyes in shame, then jerked when he thrust a finger into her. His thumb circled her clit until she could feel it tightening. Burning. Urgent need seared through her.

  He stepped back, leaving her hanging there. “You're naked, Becca. Everyone can see every inch of you. All those flaws you try to hide.”

  His words hit her like blows, and she gasped, tried to cringe, only the chains held her up. She couldn't hide, couldn't flee. She closed her eyes.

  Merciless fingers grasped her chin. “Look at me.”