Master of the Mountain

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.”

She met his eyes, trying not to shame herself further by crying.

“I like my women soft and round.” His blue gaze burned into hers. “I don't lie, Becca. I love your body, every single curve, every dimple, every scar.”

She shook her head, unable to believe him.

“Sugar, I'm not the only one who prefers curves.” He glanced behind him, and she realized there were an awful lot of people watching. Her mouth dropped open as humiliation streaked through her. “Considering we're not putting on much of a show, they're here because they like what they're looking at. That would be you.” His hand fondled her breast, sending heat swirling through her.

“And you don't believe that either, do you?” He sighed when she shook her head. “Okay, then, I'll ask.”

He turned around. “My little sub doesn't believe anyone likes soft, round women. Do any of you prefer bodies like hers?”

Applause and cheers made her eyes widen. God, let me down. Let me hide. Shivers ran through her.

“Good. Let me take it one step further, since she's vulnerable right now, and I want to drive this into her head. I think she's eminently fuckable. Would anyone who agrees take a step forward.”

Chairs screeched as men-and a few women-rose to their feet, crowding forward. So many eyes, and yet they all showed the same thing. Desire. And pleasure at looking at her.

Her mouth dropped open.

“There we go. A dent in the disbelief.” Logan moved forward, pulling her against him, and kissed her, taking her lips over and over, possessing her mouth, showing his enjoyment. He moved back and studied her for a second. God, she wanted to hold him so badly.

He nodded at her, and then he walked away, leaving her there. She bit back her first instinct, to cry out for him. He didn't go far, just to his black bag. He pulled out a whiplike thing. It had a long leather handle and a multitude of leather strands. “This is called a flogger.”

She shook her head, trying to back away and getting nowhere.

“Becca, do you trust me?” He held her eyes. “Do you trust me enough to try something new? Do you trust me not to hurt you past what you can bear?”

She bit her lip. He wanted this. It seemed so wrong to agree, but she did trust him. She managed to nod despite how stiff her body had gone.

“Use your safe word if you need it, sugar.”

Closing her eyes, she braced herself for pain. Something stroked down her leg, soft, almost tickling. Her eyes flew open.

Not speaking, he brushed her legs with the strands of the flogger, letting them trail down her skin. It had a sensuous feel like suede. The stroking moved over her breasts, her arms, her neck. Her skin grew more sensitive until she strained forward.

Then he stepped back and, with a smooth movement of his wrist, sent the strands over her leg. It felt like being hit with a bunch of tiny sticks. No sting, no pain. In a gentle rhythm, he sent the strands up and down her body until her insides seemed to vibrate with the flogger.

Then he stopped and moved forward, putting his hand between her legs, playing with her. This time, he rubbed her clit with that knowledgeable callused finger, one side, then the other, over and over, until she pushed out, trying to get more. She could feel herself coiling tighter and couldn't believe he could actually make her forget the people, yet it didn't seem to matter, not with his body so close, with his eyes capturing hers.

He stepped back before she could come, and she almost whimpered.

He started to hit her with the flogger again, more forceful than before, but the tiny thuds didn't hurt, not that much.

“I came to town only for one reason,” he said. “To find you.” The flogger struck her calf slightly harder. “Your phone had been disconnected.” The other calf received a blow. His jaw tightened, his gaze flicked over her face, her hands, her mouth, her arms. Nothing broke into his concentration as the flogger hit in a complicated pattern, up and down. Each blow shocked a bit more, hurt a bit more, and her clit grew so tight, it felt as if someone was pinching it.

“Your apartment is rented out already,” Logan growled. “Were you deliberately trying to lose me?”

Her insides were coiling tightly until that question shocked through her, and she shook her head. No no no.

He came forward again, cupping one breast in a callused hand and kissing her lips so possessively, her knees buckled and she sagged in the restraints. A finger into her pussy shot her back into arousal. He stepped back, and the flicking started again; this time the rhythm somehow coincided with the pulsing in her clit-or caused it-until she had to bite back a moan.

“I called Matt, and he gave me your friends' numbers.” The whipping began to actually hurt, but somehow each pain turned to arousal, searing through her nerve pathways to her pussy. Each thudding blow brought her closer and closer to orgasm. “I went to see Pepper, and she sent me here.”

He'd really looked for her. It hurt now, the flogging. The pain seemed to short-circuit her brain as her emotions surged up and down. He wanted her. He said so. But he couldn't possibly. Not really. She moaned.

“Simon seems to think you want a relationship with me.” Logan's voice paused, but the flogger never stopped.

Her body hurt and somehow still seemed to be floating.

“Do you want to be with me, little rebel?”

Her mind had separated from her emotions, and only sensation remained, that and his words cutting into her, through all her defenses. “Yes,” she whispered and moaned. “I want you.” Everything kept coiling inside her tighter and tighter. The strands felt like stroking fingers on her body.

Suddenly Logan whipped across her breasts for the first time, the stroke lighter but shocking over sensitive nipples. The roaring came out of nowhere, a massive welling up of exquisite pleasure, throbbing from her core outward. Her back arched, her head tilted back. She could hear her own cries, and it didn't matter. All she could do was feel.

“You gave me the right answer, my little rebel.” Logan's firm hands unbuckled her legs, then her arms, and a strong arm curled around her waist to hold her up. He pulled her into a tight embrace, tucking her head against his shoulder and rocking slightly back and forth, as if she were a baby. “Shhh, sweetie. You're all right.”

Shudders ran through her continuously. Her face was wet. “Logan,” she whispered. “Sir.”

He pulled back enough to smile into her eyes, his hand gentle on her face. “And now I'm going to take you. You will have no doubt you're wanted.” His brows drew together. “And who your Dom is.”

Here? Wait…

He pulled her a few feet over to a hip-high bench and flattened her onto her stomach. She blinked, her head beginning to clear as he pushed her legs apart. One hand pressed against her clit, and an unrelenting hand pushed down on her lower back, holding her in place. Logan entered her with one hard thrust.

With a high cry, Rebecca came again, her back arching, her small hands gripping the edge of the bench. As her pussy convulsed around him, trying to milk him, Logan held on to his control. Barely. God, she felt good, hot and slick and tight. And he was going to take her here, in front of everyone, setting his stamp on her.

He'd never felt the need before, but he did now. “I want you too, Becca,” he said, his voice rough with effort. “I want your body all soft and warm underneath me.”

She was wide open, defenses down. Ready to hear and believe what he had to say. He moved inside her, slowly at first, to ensure he'd not erupt like a teenager, and then harder. Faster. “I want to hear you laugh in the morning”-thrust-“to watch you paint”-thrust-“I want to show you my mountains”-thrust-“and dress you in flannel shirts.”

Gripping her soft hips, he pressed deeper into her, feeling the after-climax ripples in her vagina and the tiny shudders coursing through her body. “I want to comfort you when you have nightmares and let you comfort me when I have mine.”

He gritted his teeth, the pleasure so intense, his ears started to ring. Finally he couldn't wait any longer and hammered into her with a climax that started at his toenails, gripped his balls in a pitiless fist, and finally jerked out of his cock.

She lay limp under him, and from the intense rippling around him, he'd taken her with him. Only fair, since she'd taken a piece of him when she left.

He slid out of her, savoring the small whimper. After buttoning his leathers, he pulled her to her feet and then into his arms. Soft and round and lovely. And his.

Her head spun as if she'd been drinking all night, but she knew that Logan's arms held her up. His masculine scent of pine joined with leather and sex. His heart pounded hard under her ear, thudding in the same rhythm of the whip he'd used on her and in the same rhythm as the words he'd used. “I want you.”

His hand gripped the nape of her neck, and he gave her a kiss that had the world spinning again. Her pussy clenched as his other hand squeezed her bottom, stroking over her skin. His calluses felt like…

She blinked, realizing her bottom was bare. She was naked. She'd come, screaming, in front of a club full of people.

She jerked back from him in shock, saw the people watching, and hid her face against his shoulder. Oh God.

A laugh rumbled through his chest. “Back to being shy? A tad too late, Becca.” His hand lifted her chin so she had to look at him. His eyes had gone back to steely, and his jaw tightened. “Now that your head is clear, perhaps you remember saying you wanted to be with me. Is that still true?”

Her stomach fluttered as she nodded.

His big hands closed on each side of her face. “Come back with me to the mountain, Becca. Be our cook and paint during the summers, and in the winters we'll go wherever you want to vacation.” He took a breath, and his gaze grew more intense. “And be my sub.”

Her hands tightened on his shoulders. She nodded again.

“All of it, little rebel?”

“All of it.” She smiled as joy whipped across her body almost like a blow from a flogger. “Sir.”

“Well, in that case”-Logan pulled something out of his pocket and put it around her neck-“I'm marking you so I don't have to worry about you straying off with some asshole Dom. It says you're committed-to me-and you will wear this anytime we go to a club.” He turned far enough to shoot a cold look at a grinning Simon.

She heard a tiny snick. Putting her fingers to her neck, she felt the thin leather collar. And a tiny padlock.

He waited, holding up the key, giving her the chance to protest.

She took the key and tucked it into his leathers' pocket, then pulled him down for a kiss that made the room break out in cheers.