Master of the Mountain

Chapter Twelve

Logan watched as his little sub struggled back to a sitting position, her green eyes all but spitting at him. “You…you Neanderthal. I don't belong to you, and you-”

Fuck, but she was adorable. Still, she was in his quarters now. He wouldn't do a submissive any favors by allowing her to get away with disrespect. Training time. “You do not have permission to speak,” he growled, pleased when her tirade cut off midsentence, showing the instinctive obedience of a sub under command.

He studied her for a long minute, watching her anticipation increase as well as her worry. Her face pinkened with the beginning of arousal. Her hands rubbed her thighs, as if trying to reassure herself.

“Strip.”

Her gasp was delightful. “Now, listen-”

Leaning forward, he lifted her chin so she could see his displeasure. “The only words I want from you are 'yes, Sir.' Am I clear?”

He could see her consider running, using her safe word. Then a quiver ran through her, jiggling her breasts, emphasizing the tight peaks of her nipples, and telling him her decision even before he heard her, “yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” He gentled his grip, stroking her soft cheek. He kissed her, letting her feel his warmth.

The pleasure of a submissive at her master's approval glowed in her eyes when he drew back. He squeezed her shoulder, then stepped back, crossed his arms, and waited.

Biting her lip, she rose and pulled her nightgown off, laying it over the arm of the couch. Her flush increased, mostly from embarrassment.

“Take your position over there,” he said, pointing to the rug by the fireplace.

She knelt as ordered. When she looked up at him through her eyelashes, he frowned until she opened her legs wider, wide enough to catch glimpses of her pussy lips within the pubic hair. Pretty, pink treats.

“Very nice, sugar. Stay there now.” He pulled his toy bag out of the closet. “We're going to explore trust first. And then there are other things I want to do to you.”

Her nipples tightened, and the faint glistening of her pussy showed her reaction. Since her eyes were obediently lowered, he permitted himself a grin. As he rummaged through the bag, she stayed in position. His good little sub.

The clothespin breast clamps? Not attractive enough for tonight. He moved them aside. The clover clamps? No. Too painful for her second time. Hmmm. If he used the tweezer-style, he could adjust the pinch. After a minute, he found a pair where the dangling crystals matched the green in her eyes. “Come over here.”

When she stood in front of him, he smiled. “Hands behind your back again, eyes down, legs slightly apart.”

He moved close enough to see the rapid beat of the pulse in her neck. “I like jewelry on my subs.” Bending, he took one nipple in his mouth, sucked it to a peak, and applied a clamp, adjusting it until he saw the muscles around her eyes tighten with pain. Appreciation swept through him; she wasn't a whiner, was she? He pulled the ring down to loosen the clamp slightly. Her teeth nibbled her lips again, so he kissed her and checked her pussy. Very wet. The other clamp went on, accompanied by a hiss of breath. He slid his fingers back into her pussy again, tracing her folds, increasing her arousal.

Her body quivered uncontrollably as Logan fondled her, sliding his fingers over her clit until it throbbed. When he pushed a finger inside her, she had to clench her hands to stay still. With her eyes lowered, she could only see his long legs and his muscular forearm, the sleeves of his rolled-up shirt, his corded wrist, and the hand touching her so intimately.

Touching her as if she had no right to deny him.

Her nipples burned from the clamps. An intense sensation, never lessening, it seemed to make everything on her body more sensitive.

“Bend over and spread your cheeks.”

Her head came up, and she stared at him. “What?”

His eyebrows drew together, his eyes turning cold. “Try again, sub.”

No no no. Whatever he wanted to do, this couldn't be good. “No. I won't. I don't want whatever you're going to do.”

“Do you know what I'm going to do, Becca?”

She shook her head. “But-”

“Do you think it will hurt you unbearably?”

“No, but-”

“Have you ever been raped or assaulted?”

“No, but-”

“Then you're saying you don't trust me to do what I think is right for you. Is that it?”

“Dammit, Logan, you can't just do stuff to me without asking me!” She stomped, but her bare foot didn't make a sound.

“Yes. I can.” His jaw tightened, and a quaking started inside her. “That's what domination is all about. And it's something you want, but you're too afraid to relinquish control. That control is what I'm taking away from you, one step at a time.”

She couldn't look away from the intense blue of his eyes, and despite the chill in the air, she could feel a sweat break out over her body.

“Now, either use your safe word and we will stop, or say, 'Yes, Sir,' and do as I ordered. And take the punishment that comes with your defiance.”

She didn't want to stop. No. She wanted him to hold her and say he would do what she wanted. She wanted his hands on her, not something in her butt.

No expression on his face, he waited, looking down at her, making her feel small. Naked.

Just standing next to him made tremors run through her until the jewelry on her breasts jingled softly. She thought of his strong fingers attaching the clamps…his touch. Even as her mind screamed no, she sighed. “Yes, Sir.” She turned and bent slightly.

A growl of exasperation, then his powerful hand grasped the nape of her neck, pressing inexorably down until she could almost touch the floor. “Spread your cheeks. Now.”

Her breath came in small pants of humiliation as she moved her hands to her bottom.

He squirted a cold liquid between her cheeks. Then something pressed against her rectum, trying to slide inside, and she whined, “Noooo.”

One of his hands pressed against her mound, the other inserted the…the thing. It slid in, stretching her rectum, and seemed to plop in. She could feel it inside her. Foreign and hard.

“This is called an anal plug, sugar,” he murmured. “It opens a whole new set of nerves and also stretches you a tad. I'm not going to take you there, not this weekend. You're too tight, and I'm too big. But this gives you an idea of what it would feel like.” He pulled her hands down, and she realized her fingernails had been digging in her buttocks. “Stand up now.”

Her cheeks closed over the plug, and it felt as if she had a rock between her buttocks. She shifted uncomfortably.

He moved to her front and wrapped a belt around her waist, yanking it snug. A piece of leather dangled from it. She looked at him questioningly.

He chuckled. “You'll see.” His voice softened, and he caressed her cheek. “I'm glad you're still here, Becca. I know this is scary, especially for you. You're a woman who likes everything under her control.”

Warmth filled her. He knew she was scared. He understood that and understood her.

And then he took a dildo out of his bag, and she backed away so quickly that she tripped.

He grabbed her by the wrist. “Nope, you're not moving. This is what you earned with your defiance.” It looked horrible. Shaped like a Y, one arm was the traditional phallic shape, and the other was shorter with a pointy end. “You ever used a rabbit?”

She shook her head. She had an old vibrator she'd picked up in college from a porn store. Ancient. And it lived somewhere in the bathroom.

“Spread your legs, sugar.”

He'd stuck something up her butt, and now he wanted to stuff something else into her? And why did his patient waiting drive her into doing what he wanted? She spread her legs, closing her eyes in humiliation.

The damn thing slid in easily. She was horribly wet, and he had to have noticed. As he adjusted it, she realized the short leg of the Y would be positioned right over her clit. Smiling slightly, he brought the leather between her legs and fit the end of the vibrator into a small hole. He tightened the leather, pushing everything up inside her even more, and secured it to the belt. “Good enough.” He smiled into her eyes, then arched a brow. “A mite upset, sweetie?”

She glared at him. “May I talk now?”

He studied her for a minute. “Nope. You'll say something I can't overlook, and you've already got one punishment coming. Go in the kitchen and get us both some water. Use the red glasses.”

How could she walk with this stuff in her?

He raised an eyebrow.

Damn, damn, damn. She knew she was walking bowlegged. With every movement, the rabbit thing rubbed against her clit and the anal thing moved inside her. And somehow it all started to turn her on.

She found red glasses-plastic ones-and got the water. On the way back to the living room, suddenly the rabbit came alive. The thing pulsed and rippled in her vagina. Over her clit, it vibrated. It seemed to bump against the anal plug, and she felt everything inside her coiling tighter and tighter, so fast and fierce, she barely had time for a breath before she came in a mind-blowing orgasm.

When her vision cleared, she realized the vibrations had stopped. And somehow she'd managed to hold on to the glasses. She wobbled back into the living room.

Logan sat on the couch, arm over the back, watching her. “Iron control. Very impressive, sugar.”

Scowling, she handed him a glass, trembling so violently, the water splashed over the rim. “You did that on purpose.”

His jaw tightened slightly at her nasty tone. He pointed to the rug beside the fireplace. “Over there. Slave position.”

She started to ask him to remove the things now he'd made his point. His stern expression warned her against it. In front of the fireplace, she eased to the floor. The kneeling position pushed everything up higher inside her and rubbed the front arm of the rabbit against her swollen clit.

She stared at the rug, her body so sensitive, her skin seemed able to feel him approach. His feet appeared in the small circle of rug where her eyes had focused.

He walked behind her and buckled wrist cuffs on her. The inside of the snugly fitting cuffs were soft with fur. He clipped the cuffs together. “Sugar, I don't want you to move, to speak, or to look up. Any infraction will result in you spending more time here. The cuffs are to help.”

Help? He didn't think she could sit still and keep her hands behind her back? She huffed a breath and gave a mental shrug. As punishments went, this wasn't so bad. She didn't mind kneeling.

She heard the couch creak, then the sound of pages of a book being turned…and a hum as the vibrator inside her turned on. She managed to keep from gasping. In this position, she could feel every vibration course through her. The part of the rabbit just inside her labia rippled, and the front arm made a tapping sensation right over her clit. Arousal shot through her, and her insides coiled as she approached an orgasm. Oh God, oh God. But she could handle it and not move. She kept her eyes down, her back stiffening as-

Everything stopped. Surprise rolled through her, followed by frustration. Her body hovered right on the edge. Held by the cuffs, her hands fisted. Then relaxed as the pressure of the stalled climax receded.

Heavy footsteps thudded outside Logan's quarters, coming up the stairs. A knock. The door opened, and Rebecca closed her eyes. She waited for Logan to shove the person back out the door. To say something. Or cover her.

He did nothing.

Horrified, she looked up to see Logan's brother just inside the door. She stared at him in disbelief. She was naked, damn it! Naked with breast clamps and objects inserted into her. Embarrassment paralyzed her legs, or she'd have fled.

As she gaped at Jake, his face turned dark with disapproval. “Eyes down, sub,” he snapped with the same authority as Logan…or a Dom.

She averted her gaze from him, looking at Logan instead.

He was watching her, and his eyes were gray. Cold. He tapped his watch. “Another ten minutes added on.”

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. She dropped her gaze, the heat of humiliation making her feel as if she sat in a sauna. How could Logan do this to her?

“Very pretty pet you got there, bro,” Jake said. “Not trained very well, though. You got a minute, or is this a bad time?”

“I'm not busy for a while. Sit.”

Sit? He invited his brother to sit? Now fury alternated with the embarrassment. She clenched her jaw against the need to scream at Logan. And his brother.

And then the vibrator turned back on. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to react, not to show anything for the bastards, damn them. Her body heated, jumping straight to the precipice despite Jake's presence. Her hands tightened into fists as her focus narrowed to the thing over her clit, to the coursing, pulsing, almost there…

Everything stopped.

The tiny moan escaped her. She stayed frozen. She couldn't believe he'd done it to her again. And he didn't even seem to be paying attention to her. She could hear the men's low conversation now that her ears had stopped ringing.

“Gonna collar her, bro?”

Logan snorted as if Jake had said something funny. “I'm no full-time master.”

“It can just mean commitment. You know, going steady.”

What the heck was a collar? she wondered. Like a dog? Who was Jake talking about?

“Enough, asshole,” Logan growled. “Not going to happen.”

“Your loss.” And Jake started talking about a series of storms due tomorrow and plans for the club members.

As their discussion continued, Rebecca slowly brought her breathing back under control although her entire pussy burned.

A few minutes later, the vibrator turned back on.

And just before she came, it clicked off. Again. And on. And off.

At some point, she realized Jake had left. On. Off. Her body trembled continuously. If her hands had been free, she would have attacked Logan. Everything throbbed painfully. Past painfully. If she could only come… She shifted, trying to rub the vibrator more against her clit, just a-

“If you move, I add more time.” His voice deep, even. No emotion.

What kind of emotion would he have when she killed him dead? When she strung his guts from the trees and-

On.

When the vibrator stopped, she couldn't keep the moan back, let alone the tears that spilled from her closed eyes. She shook so hard, she wasn't sure she'd ever stop.

Callused hands closed on each side of her face, the warmth startling. “Eyes on me, Becca.”

She looked up, her vision blurry from tears. His face was still cold, mean. She didn't like him this way.

“When under command, who do you obey, Becca?” His words seemed to cut through her.

“You,” she whispered, adding a hasty “Sir” when his jaw tightened.

“Do you need to worry or think about anything when I'm in control?”

“No, Sir.”

“What is left for that head of yours to do, then, sugar?”

Her mind blanked. If he had all the control, and she didn't think, what was left?

“Just feel, Becca. That's all that's left.”

The shock rolling through her was as overwhelming as the whole evening had been. No power, no control, no need to worry or think. All she had left was what she'd just experienced. Sensation. The trembling increased inside her, and she closed her eyes.

He walked behind her and unsnapped her cuffs. After bringing her arms forward, he leaned her back against his legs, and his strong hands massaged the ache out of her shoulders. Her hands in her lap shook almost as violently as her emotions. From feeling so vulnerable to being cared for; she couldn't keep up. She didn't want to keep up.

Her eyes opened when he lifted her into his arms. She looked at him, his jaw a rigid line, his neck all corded muscle, and she felt fragile, and even more, safe in his embrace.

He carried her to his bed and laid her on her stomach. She turned her head to watch him.

Standing close, he stroked her hair. “Punishment's over. You did well, Becca. I'm pleased with you.” His smile of approval warmed the coldness inside her.

Gripping her hips, he tilted her onto her knees, head on the mattress, and buckled on ankle cuffs. Pulling her arms around, he clipped each wrist cuff to an ankle cuff, restraining her in that position. A shudder went through her as she realized he wasn't through with her.

When he removed the vibrator, she almost screamed as just the movement inside shot her straight back into arousal. His fingers circled her clit, sliding in the wetness. She whimpered as the nub tightened unbearably. “All red and swollen,” he murmured. “Just right.”

She shook her head, tears blurring her eyes again.

Cupping her cheek, he kissed her gently. “What, Becca? What's wrong?”

“I can't do it again. Please don't…not again.”

A crease appeared in his cheek even as heat grew in his eyes. “We won't stop this time, and you're going to come so hard that the swingers will hear you in their cabins.”

He stripped completely, and her eyes widened as his cock sprang out, long and thick. He wrapped his hand around it at the base. “You weren't the only one suffering, sweetie.”

After sheathing himself in a condom, he knelt behind her and pressed his chest against her back. His body felt heavy and warm. The gentle bobbing of his cock against her folds made her jump.

His hand slid down her stomach, over her mound, and then his fingers slid in circles around her core. She moaned as the excruciating tightness increased. His cock pressed against her opening, up and down, slickening with her wetness, teasing her opening.

Then he ruthlessly pinched her sensitive clit even as he thrust his thick cock up into her.

She screamed as every stymied climax tore through her at once. Her eyes blinded, she arched. Explosion after explosion ripped her body into pieces with exquisite, terrifying pleasure.

His fingers released her as he slid his cock in and out. She spasmed around the hard length, and another wave of pleasure rippled through her. Her heart hammered inside her chest so brutally, it felt close to bursting. Somehow the air in the room had disappeared. She gasped for air.

Wrapping an arm around her stomach, he started into the merciless, driving rhythm she was becoming used to.

Only somehow it seemed more intense. As his pelvis pressed against her bottom, she realized why. He'd left that plug in her. Every thrust inside her moved it slightly, filled her fuller, and sent odd feelings thrumming through her. Sensations she didn't know. Ones she didn't want to like…but she did. Oh God, she did.

She was so hot and wet, he wanted to just bury himself deep and let himself come. But he had one more thing to accomplish. So he throttled himself down, moving his cock in and out very, very slowly, giving her a chance to recover. But damn, she'd better recover fast. This position was hell on a man's control.

Trying to divert himself, he slid his hand beneath her breasts. God, they were gorgeous, so full they spilled over his hand, and her nipples so sensitive that any tug on the clamps made her pussy clench around him.

Gradually he angled himself so his cock would hit harder over her G-spot. He grinned when she stiffened. Apparently he'd hit the right spot, one as sensitive as her breasts.

Obviously forgetting her restraints, she moaned and tried to move, halted by the cuffs. Her vagina clenched around him as she realized her vulnerability. Her iron control was in tatters, her will given over to him, even as her body was his.

He pushed her legs farther apart to emphasize her helplessness and saw her hands close into fists. Fists. He hadn't reached the naked core of her submission yet. Gripping the chains of the breast clamps, he tugged gently with each thrust. Reading her and responding accordingly, pushing her toward pure sensation and submission even as he drove her body to climax, reminded him of how Beethoven's symphonies ended when all the parts came together in the finale.

She slowly tightened around him. Her thighs, widely apart, trembled like aspen leaves in a winter wind, but the restraints kept her legs from giving out. She was close.

Pushing back to a kneeling position, he slid his hand down her stomach to her pussy, anchoring her in place and putting pressure on her distended clit at the same time. With the other hand, he grasped the slender butt plug in her vulnerable little ass. He wiggled it, increasing the sensation, increasing her submission.

Her whole body quivered in shock, and she made an indescribable noise. Her hips jerked, inadvertently rubbing her swollen nub against his restraining hand. She whimpered, yielding to the pleasure. To him. Only a Dom could know and appreciate this rushing sense of power.

He thrust with his cock and slid the soft plug out; he pulled his cock out and pushed the plug in. Her legs turned rigid, her back arching, thrusting her bottom up higher. As he continued, her silky pussy clamped down on him, tighter and tighter, and seconds later she convulsed, wailing her climax in short cries that corresponded with each rippling spasm of her vagina. Fuck, he loved her unrestrained response, and even more, that she needed restraints to get there.

The tight milking sensation around his cock grew until he couldn't stand it anymore. He seated the butt plug firmly inside her, grasped her hips with both hands, and pounded into her. His own climax boiled up and out of him like a volcano, the fire coming from deep within and shooting through him.

When he could breathe again, he released the clips holding her wrists to her ankles and toppled them both over, pulling her up against him so her back rested against his chest. He was still embedded deep inside her. Would that he could stay there forever. Wrapping his arms around her, he buried his face in her silky hair. God, he enjoyed having a soft, shuddering sub in his arms.

And this soft little sub had just gifted him with a depth of response that awed him. Such a change from her assertiveness during the day. Damn, he liked that. Liked her cheerful personality-even at breakfast, for which she should be shot. And the way she petted Thor, even when he scared her. The way she smiled when she saw a doe and fawn. The way her big green eyes had looked at him when she gave him her wrists.

He wanted this soft little sub, and he wanted his collar around her neck. God help him.

Short crackling bursts of fire from M-16s like firecrackers on steroids. The earth-jarring blast of an IED. The truck humps into the air, spilling him and the others like marbles across the concrete. Screaming…so much screaming. Sweat pours down his face, or maybe the hot liquid is blood. Heart hammering, he dodges across the alley, dives into a building. His helmet has disappeared somewhere. The even, thudding noise of a fifty cal opens up, then the roar of a MedEvac helicopter. He turns to look, knowing what he'll see. Too late for rescue. His team, oh God, his team. Red streaks the sand like a blood-filled kaleidoscope. Shrieks of agony. Men pour across the alley, coming for him. His hands tighten on the-

“Logan!”

Hands shook him, tiny hands. He grabbed the soldier's arms. Soft, round. The voice wasn't right, high, using his name. He blinked and saw big green eyes, pale skin with freckles, pink, pink lips. He forced his hands to loosen. “Becca.” His voice sounded like he'd scraped it raw.

“Are you awake now?” She smoothed his hair back from his sweaty face. “That sounded like one nasty nightmare.”

His breath huffed out. “Yeah.” His hands tightened on her shoulders, red still staining the edges of his vision. What had he done? Had he hit her? “Are you all right?”

“Well, sure. I wasn't the one having a nightmare.” She pushed out of his arms and trotted into the bathroom; the last two burning candles glinted off her pale skin.

He sighed, his insides churning worse now that present-day horror had been added. God, how could he have fallen asleep? He could have-

“Here.” An arm under his shoulders urged him up. He took the glass she gave him and stared at it.

“Logan, drink it.”

Cold water cleared the dryness from his throat. After setting the glass on the bedside stand, she washed the sweat from his face and chest with a washcloth. “There.”

Before he found the words to tell her he needed to leave, she pushed him back down and curled up next to him, laying her head on his shoulder. One rounded arm curved over his chest, holding him gently. “I hate nightmares,” she murmured and fell asleep within two breaths.

Logan stared up at the ceiling, too aware of the woman snuggled up to him like a trusting puppy. Already sound asleep. After a minute, he put a hand under his head and wrapped the other around her shoulders. Stronger than she looked, wasn't she? Considering her description of the dog attack, she probably knew all about nightmares.

She sure dealt with them a hell of a lot better than he did. He'd never done anything afterward except sit on the edge of the bed and shake. The water she'd given him had washed away more than the dryness, the washcloth more than sweat, somehow grounding him in reality and banishing the usual lingering remnants.

Her breath created a tiny warm patch on his shoulder as her chest rose and fell in the peaceful rhythm of sleep.

He took a long, careful breath. He'd been lucky and hadn't hurt her. There would be no sleep for him tonight, but contentment could be found in the here and now.