Masters 01 Master of the Mountain (27 page)

“I hate you, you bastard.”

“You're sick. Sadistic.”

With each blow, his hand came down brutally, stinging worse than she could have imagined until her whole bottom burned.

“B-bast—” Her voice broke as a sob escaped, and tears spilled from her eyes. She hated him.

His hand stroked over her bottom gently. “You scared me, sweetheart. If we hadn't found you before dark…”

She gritted her teeth, trying to keep the sobs back. Trying not to beg.

He continued as if they were having a conversation. “Even Thor wouldn't have been able to keep you warm enough, especially since you couldn't go searching for someplace dry.” A pause.

Slam. Slam
. Her fingernails curled into the rag rug.

“Jake and I were terrified, you know. We ran up that trail.”

They'd run? She'd had a tough time walking up it. And then he'd carried her a good part of the way down. She'd been stupid. And careless. Her anger withered and died, and her resistance with it.

“I-I'm sorry,” she whispered. “Please… I'm sorry.”

“There we go.” He lifted her up and settled her on his lap. Pain streaked through her when her bottom rubbed on his jeans. She couldn't stop crying, the deep sobs hurting her chest. Confused and angry, sorry and hurting, she tried to push away from him. “Don't touch me,” she choked.

His grip only tightened. His hand cradled her head, pressing her face into his shoulder. “All over, little rebel. It's done.”

When he stroked her hair, she felt comforted and even more confused. He'd hit her and made her cry and now held her. “I'm sorry.”

“I know, sugar.” He kissed the top of her head. “But damn, you scared me.” His arms tightened until she almost couldn't breathe. “I was so angry, I didn't trust myself to do this earlier. You wouldn't have been able to sit down for a week.”

His words turned her attention to her bottom. “I may not anyway, you…” She sucked in a breath. “Sir.”

“Nice save, little one.” He picked her up in his arms and carried her into the bathroom, setting her on the closed toilet seat. She hissed as fire streaked across her tender butt. “Wash your face and get ready for bed.
Call
me”—he gave her a harsh look—“when you're ready to come back.”

“Yes, Sir.”

After he carried her back to bed, he walked around lighting candles. She watched, her emotions still churning inside.

He stripped, and she had to close her eyes against the sight of his naked body. He was so, so gorgeous.

She heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper and knew he planned to make love. Her mouth tightened. After spanking her. God, just the word sounded childish. He'd hit her and now thought she'd want to…to fuck?
Not happening
. Pulling the covers up to her chin, she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to ignore the way her nipples had bunched into points. When she felt the bed sink under his weight, she opened her eyes.

He lay beside her, propping his head up on one hand.

She scowled at him. “I don't want to do anything but sleep.
Sir
. I have a headache.”

His eyes narrowed as he studied her face, and his jaw slowly turned to stone. “No, you don't.” He lifted her chin and gave her a look that seared all the way to her toes and made her stomach quiver. “Lying gets punished, little sub, but I believe your ass is a bit tender right now.”

His knuckles rubbed gently against her nipples, undoubtedly feeling the taut peaks, and his smile was pitiless. “I thought to be gentle right now, but you lost that privilege. Instead, I'm going to take you for my own pleasure, and I'm going to take you hard.”

Her mouth dropped open, but before she could speak, he'd ripped the covers out of her grasp and rolled her on her stomach. Ruthless hands shoved her legs apart, never bumping or touching her sore ankle. He yanked her up onto her knees, putting her butt in the air.

She felt a second of coolness when he shoved her nightgown up. A finger touched her pussy, swirled through her folds despite her squirming. He gave a satisfied grunt. “You're wet, sweetheart. Very wet.”

Something pushed against her pussy, and then he sheathed himself in her so forcefully, she cried out. Her hands fisted on the sheets as her insides quaked around him in shock. His knees shoved her legs outward, opening her even farther, and he seated himself so deep, he brushed against her womb. She was still in shock from his entry when he started to move.

No gentle, sweet seduction, this. His hands gripped her hips, taking all the control for himself as he hammered into her so hard, tiny grunts broke from her. And yet, in spite of the ruthless way he took her, her insides heated. Her folds swelled and throbbed as her need rose. She buried her face in the pillow, turning just enough to get air, realizing that was all she could do. Overpowered, anchored in place, she couldn't even push back. Couldn't do anything except take it.

The thought made the burning worse. She could feel herself tighten around him as shivers spiraled through her body. Her legs began to tremble. She bit her lips trying to muffle a whimper.

He gave a short laugh. And suddenly he slid a hand down under her body, stroking through her folds, stroking her clit with a firm, callused finger, the roughness against her sensitive tissues incredibly exciting. Her hips jerked, tried to move, but he leaned forward, pressing his chest against her back, bracing himself over her with one arm on the bed, the other between her legs, stroking, stroking…

His heavy balls slapped against her pussy, sending shocks through her. The rhythmic thrusting set up a pulsing inside her, each one increasing the seething tension. Her hands scratched at the sheets as she panted.

He pulled back, almost all the way out, and she whimpered. The return thrust through her swollen tissues brought a cry. Remaining deep inside her, he rubbed her clit, bringing her to the brink, then lifted his fingers and pulled his cock out again. Hard back inside, fingers again. Over and over, until she couldn't think of anything except the feeling of his fingers, of his cock entering her. She tightened further, her legs turned rigid, and her hands fisted.

Suddenly he trapped her clit between his fingers, using a firm, pinching pressure as he hammered into her.

“Aaaaaah!” The fierce coil inside her exploded outward, sending pleasure crashing through her. Her hips bucked against his hand, but his fingers only tightened, gripping her as her pussy spasmed around his cock in unending shock waves.

He slowed, stopped, and waited until the spasms turned to ripples. His next powerful thrust sent a blinding surge through her as her insides convulsed around the intrusion in another spiraling climax. Another.

Then he opened his fingers.

She screamed as blood shot back into her clit. When he slammed his cock into her, and another violent release burst through her, the top of her skull felt as if it blew off.

“Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.” She buried her head in the pillow. Everything seemed too sensitive, and she tried to pull away. Her legs were shaking too hard to hold her up.

He laughed. His unyielding hands yanked her hips up, and the hammering started again, short and fast; his hands controlled her every movement. He angled her to where he wanted her, then gave a deep growl, and she could feel his thick cock jerk hard inside her.

He didn't move for a minute, just held her against him with an iron arm across her stomach. His breathing slowed, and then he tipped them both over, keeping them spooned together.

“Still have a headache?” he asked in her ear, his voice rough.

“You're a jerk.”

He chuckled. “This is true.” His hand flattened across her stomach, keeping her pinned against his hot body.

Eventually, he got up. When he returned, he had more ice for her ankle. He rolled her onto her back despite her sleepy protests. “Ankle up, little rebel,” he said, kissing her cheek. “The swelling looks better.”

He took her two more times that night, awaking her from sleep once with his mouth on her breast. The next time, he had his mouth on her clit, having slid so subtly into her dreams that she awoke orgasming. When she tried to move that time, she discovered he'd cuffed her wrists to the headboard and her legs—at the knees—to the sides of the frame. Still gasping, she struggled to get loose, only to have his mouth descend on her again. Light and teasing, forceful and fast. She lay splayed open, available to anything he chose to do, and he did it all. She came, over and over. When he finally relented, he moved up to suck on her nipples until they poked up bright red, then thrust into her, thick and hard, bringing them both to a shuddering climax.

After cleaning up, he put her ankle back up on the pillows and ice, then pulled her against his side.

“You're worse than a mother,” she grumbled. “I hate lying on my back.”

He chuckled and didn't answer. The jerk. And yet how he…
dominated
their relationship, turned her on in a way she still couldn't believe.

He stroked her breasts, fondling them gently. He liked to touch, she realized. In bed, he kept his arms around her or a hand on her like now. The way he played with her breasts, or just touched her, or ran his hands over her body, made her feel so…so beautiful. Desirable.

She rolled her eyes. Of course, being taken a ka-zillion times in one night pretty much had the same effect. She wrapped her fingers around his hand, feeling a quiver inside at the difference between his and hers. Darkly tanned, callused, muscular. His wrists were the size of her hands. He let her explore, propping his head up to watch her in the dying candlelight. After a minute, she kissed his palm and curled the fingers down.

When she released him, he stroked her cheek, a faint smile on his face. “You worry me, little sub,” he murmured. “Did your parents forget to provide you with a talk button?”

She frowned at him. “What does that mean?”

“I expected a string of curses after your punishment. Instead you buried everything. Time to talk.” His blue eyes were intent on hers. “How did you feel about getting spanked?”

She jerked her face away, only to have him grasp her chin and force her to look at him. “No talk button, sorry,” she said, knowing already that stalling was hopeless. “It's time to get some sleep, don't you think?”

His thumb grazed her lips. “Did your parents spank you?”

Stubborn jerk. “Mom did once or twice.” She tried to remember. “For running away once. For playing with matches.”