Cherise Sinclair - Master of the Mountain

His free hand slid down over her mound and touched her folds, then pressed against the betraying wetness. Oh God . She closed her eyes against the amusement in his face.

“That feels like interest to me,” he murmured. With one finger, he stroked down between her labia and back up to circle her clit. Each circuit increased the throbbing of the nerves there, and she could feel how engorged it was. His finger never slowed, never went faster. Never touched the nub where the need was most intense.

A thin whine escaped her, and her hips lifted.

“You can't push me to go faster, little one.” He gave a deep laugh. “In fact, you can't do anything at all; I'm going to finger fuck you until you come.”

Her breath caught at his words pointing out her helplessness. She strained against his powerful grip, and her inability to move started a shaking deep inside. She'd hated when Matt asked her for directions. This man wasn't asking at all, just telling her. Not even letting her move. As if her vulnerability had been the spark, her blood flamed through her veins.

“No,” she whispered. This was so wrong.

“Yes,” he whispered back. When she yanked again, he pushed a finger into her vagina, hard and fast. She gasped. The excruciating shot of pleasure devastated her senses, making her head spin. Her swollen labia throbbed as his finger slid in and out in a ruthless rhythm, until her vagina pulsed with him, until her insides tightened around the intrusion.

He didn't stop.

He added another finger, and she moaned. Even as the pleasure increased, the pressure built inside her, the intensity frightening. Her hips lifted, trying for more. Her legs quivered, straining against his unyielding body.

His thumb skated over her clit, gliding directly over it each time his fingers plunged into her. One stroke, and another and another. Her body coiled tighter and tighter as the burning torment continued.

When he paused, she moved-tried to move-only her wrists were trapped in his inflexible grip. She couldn't do anything, couldn't move.

His thumb rolled over her clit, and the climax exploded inside her like fireworks in the dark, blinding and deafening. Her hips bucked uncontrollably against his hand as a maelstrom of pleasure tore through her.

His fingers in her milked each spasm out; every flicker of his thumb over her clit sent another surge of ecstasy through her until she couldn't bear any more.

“Stop.” When she lifted her head, his fingers pressed deeper into her, and her head dropped back weakly.

“Oh, not quite yet,” he murmured. “You have another quiver or two in you.” His thumb brushed featherlight over the oversensitive nub. Her vagina clenched and rippled around his fingers.

He did it again.

“God,” she moaned.

He chuckled, easing his fingers out, and even that made her shudder. Still holding her wrists, he slid up beside her. “Very nice. I like that dazed look.” Putting his hand along her jaw, he tilted her head and took her mouth hard. Her head started to spin again.

And suddenly her hands were free. She blinked and looked up into his hard face.

His lips curved as he stroked his thumb over her cheek. “Damn, you're tempting.” With a sigh, he rolled over and swung out of bed.

Her body chilled without his warmth next to her, and she felt bare inside, as if he'd stolen her confidence. What had she done? She didn't know him, and she'd let him hold her down. Touch her.

Make her come more strongly than she'd ever come. She closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. Don't think about that . She'd had an interesting night and played around some. That's all this had been. And now it was morning and over.

Frowning at the shadowy ridges on her legs, she dragged the blankets to her chest. He must not have noticed her scars, thank God. She sat up, trying to ignore the limp feel of her muscles.

Over at a chest of drawers, Logan pulled out jeans and a shirt, totally unselfconscious about being naked. He looked even bigger without clothing on. All powerful muscle and a very large erection.

Guilt sliced through her. He'd given her an orgasm like she'd dreamed about, and she'd given him nothing. The thought of having his hands on her again made her nervous. Excited. Worried . How far would she go if he touched her again? But fair was fair. She'd gotten off, and he hadn't. “What about you?”

Obviously seeing her gaze on his cock, he walked back over to the bed. His blue eyes crinkled. “You have a soft heart, don't you? But we're done, Becca. I pushed your limits enough for one day.”

As he turned from her, she couldn't seem to find her voice, if she could have figured out what to say anyway.

He pulled on the jeans-commando-and a blue flannel shirt. “I'm going to let Thor out and do a quick check of the grounds. You've got time for a shower if you want to take one here. I doubt anyone else will be up for a bit.”

She knew he'd made the offer so she wouldn't have to go back to her cabin and see Matt with Ashley. The thoughtfulness made her eyes swim with tears. “Thank you. That's very nice of you.”

His grin was devastating, and she realized she hadn't seen him really smile before. He loomed over her and took her face between his big hands. “I've been called many things, but never nice. And if I see you all soft and pink in my bed much longer, I'm going to push you onto your back and take you in every way I can think of. So I'm leaving while I still can.”

His words and the image of him…taking…what he wanted heated her skin faster than a sauna. He tilted her head back and possessed her mouth instead. Deeply. Thoroughly.

The door closed behind him before she'd caught her breath.

Thor at his side, Logan stalked down the trail to the cabins. The freezing mountain air needed to work more quickly; his jeans were past uncomfortable and well into painful. He should have left before that last kiss.

But turning away at that point had been fucking impossible. The blankets she'd clasped had plumped up her full breasts and revealed the soft curve of her shoulders. Pale shoulders with tantalizing freckles. And her mouth had been pink and wet and swollen from his kisses. Christ have mercy, but what would those lips feel like around his cock?

Hell. He kicked a dead branch off the trail and increased his pace. Do not even consider taking her to bed.

She had a man already.

Not a good deterrent, he realized. Too tempting to snatch her away from the idiot. He needed a better reason to avoid her.

First reason: She was a city girl. Big turn-off. Look at her clothes. Wore a suit to a mountain lodge. Designer jeans. She didn't even own hiking shoes. From the look on her face yesterday, she'd never visited a mountain before, let alone a forest. Hell, she probably exercised on a treadmill in an air-conditioned health club rather than outdoors.

She lived in a city, and he had to live in the mountains. His nightmares ensured that, and ensured he'd sleep alone and stay alone. Even now, he felt the lack of sleep over the past two nights drag at him.

Aside from the physical attraction, they had nothing in common.

His mouth twisted into a wry grin. Pretty worthless deterrent considering that when he went to Dark Haven in San Francisco, he had no trouble thoroughly enjoying the city girls. And being a guy, he wouldn't blow off a nice physical attraction anyway. He'd enjoyed the hell out of having her warm, curvy body up against his all night and wouldn't mind repeating it a time or two, even if he had to go without sleep.

Unfortunately, he wouldn't be content to just hold her again. Not after having his fingers in her little wet pussy. He shook his head, remembering how her forest green eyes had watched him dress and then puddled up because he'd been nice to her. Hell, if she knew the dark things he wanted to do to her, she'd run screaming down the mountain.