Cherise Sinclair - Master of the Mountain

This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id LLCs e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

DISCLAIMER: Please do not try any new sexual practice, especially those that might be found in our BDSM/fetish titles without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither Loose Id LLC nor its authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles.

Genre: BDSM Full-figured Heroine Erotic Contemporary

When Rebecca's boyfriend talks her into vacationing at a mountain lodge with his swing club, she quickly learns she's not cut out for playing musical beds. Now she has nowhere to sleep. Logan, the lodge owner, finds her freezing on the porch. After hauling her inside, he warms her in his own bed, and there the experienced Dom discovers that Rebecca might not be a swingerbut she is definitely a submissive.

Rebecca knows that no one can love her plump, scarred body. To her shock, lodge owner Logan not only disagrees, but ties her up and shows her just how much he enjoys her curves. Under his skilled hands, Rebecca not only loses her inhibitions, but also her heart.

Damaged from the war, Logan considers himself too dangerous to be around the enticing little sub. He sends her away for her own safety, not realizing she believes she has once again been rejected because of her size. As Logan's mountains echo with her voice long after she's gone, he realizes she's taken his heart with her. But when he arrives in the city to reclaim her, Rebecca's phone has been disconnected and her apartment is empty

Publisher's Note:This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, BDSM theme and content, exhibitionism.

To my readers,

This book is fiction, not reality and, as in most romantic fiction, the romance is compressed into a very, very short time period.

You, my darlings, live in the real world and I want you to take a little more time than the heroines you read about. Good Doms don't grow on trees and there's some strange people out there. So while you're looking for that special Dom, please, be careful.

When you find him, realize he can't read your mind. Yes, frightening as it might be, you're going to have to open up and talk to him. And you listen to him, in return. Share your hopes and fears, what you want from him, what scares you spitless. Okay, he may try to push your boundaries a little-he's a Dom, after all-but you have your safeword. You will have a safeword, am I clear? Use protection. Have a back-up person. Communicate.

Remember: safe, sane and consensual.

Know that I'm hoping you find that special, loving person who will understand your needs and hold you close. Let me know how you're doing. I worry, you know.

Meantime, come and hang out with the Masters.

Cherise

cherisesinclair@sbcglobal.net

You about there, babe? Matt sounded as if he was gritting his teeth as he pumped into her. You want me to rub you some more?

Frustration congealed inside Rebecca like cold oatmeal. She was nowhere close to getting off, and every time he asked what to do, her orgasm receded further. No point in continuing. Oooh, she sighed, jerking her hips up and down and clenching her vagina.

Oh yeah. He groaned in relief, and again as he came a second later.

Well, hadn't that been exciting? Not. As Matt rolled over onto the mattress with a satisfied groan, Rebecca considered pushing him right out of the bed. But it wasn't his fault. He tried. He always tried, asking her if this technique worked or that one. How could she tell him that she wanted him to just know what to do?

She sure couldn't tell him she faked a good half her orgasms. And she resented that he couldn't tell, which was even more unfair. She didn't get off in an unmistakable fashion, after all. For her, an orgasm felt more like a sneeze, certainly not the earthquake her friends described, and nowhere close to the shrieks of pleasure from the apartment next door. What would that feel like? To be so overwhelmed as to actually scream?

Matt spoke up as if he'd followed her train of thought. You know, Rebecca, you never seem all that enthusiastic about screwing. And my technique's fantastic.

So informed by all his previous girlfriends, undoubtedly. Good to know. Thanks, Matt. Now she felt really inadequate. Heck, they'd just cosigned a lease and moved in together a couple of weeks ago, and he was already bored with her. She swallowed past a tight throat. Maybe we're not a good match. She rolled over and stared out her bedroom window, where the next-door apartment building glowed pink in the sunset.

Oh, don't get like that. Matt patted her shoulder. We're great together. Where would I find a woman who could be so polite during business dinners? And what other guy would let you drag him to an art show on Mission?

Well, that's true. She'd thought they were a perfect couple right from the beginning. Emulating her excruciatingly practical mother, Rebecca had created a list of the characteristics of her ideal man, and when she'd met Matt, she'd been stunned how well he matched her requirements. He was easygoing and charming. Well groomed with a sense of style. They enjoyed the same movies, books, and friends. They both had professional jobs, made about the same amount of money, and he was more metro than macho. He could actually converse about movie themes, and he liked Chinese food.

Maybe she should have included sex somewhere on the list, but she'd never considered it very important. Aside from sex, she and Matt were very compatible. She rolled back over with a sigh. I guess you're right.

Lying on his back, Matt had a well-tended look with boutique shop-trimmed blond hair, muscles from dedicated gym usage, and a lingering tan from a business trip to San Diego. Tomorrow he'd get up, eat something low-fat and disgustingly healthy, and head off to his job at the brokerage house, content with life.

Her contentment matched his. Really. After all, the managing director of her ad agency was considering her for the position of senior art director, putting her on the fast track to the top. A gust of wind whipped the curtains inward, bringing the sea tang of San Francisco Bay and the scent of a spring rain. She lived in the best city in the world.

I have an idea, but you probably won't like it. Matt turned to face her and propped himself up with an elbow. I belong to this group, and we're taking a very long Memorial Day weekend in the mountains.

I remember you said you'd be out of town. She bit her lip. Maybe they weren't as close as she'd thought. He'd never mentioned belonging to anything other than his fitness club and some business associations. What group is this?

It's a swingers' club.

Very funny. Only he wore no smile. He wasn't joking. Seriously? Swingers, like in exchanging-partners swingers?

He shrugged, half-embarrassed and half-smug. That's it. We get together for a weekend every couple of months Uh, seems like last time we met, you were in Chicago for a seminar. Anyway, there's about twenty in the club and-