Cherise Sinclair
Master of the Mountain
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About this Title
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 swinger…but 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…
Author's Note
Chapter One
“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?
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.
“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.”