Mastered By The Mavericks(23)

He sent a pair of resounding thuds through the room while stepping to  the platform that held the plush king bed. He lowered Brynna to the  mattress, following her down in the same controlled motion.

He had an initial plan-something about brushing the hair from her eyes,  stroking a gentle hand down her body, and gazing patiently into her  eyes-that was shot into hell's huge handbasket once she was prone  beneath him. Step one was barely finished before he coiled a hand into  her hair, fisting the russet strands in order to lift her face,  preparing her mouth for his new invasion.

They shared moans as their tongues tangled, each devouring the other as  if they'd embraced like this ten years ago, instead of minutes. Her arms  lifted and wrapped around his neck with unbridled passion. When they  pulled apart, that fire flowed into the depths of her searching gaze.

Rhett forced down a deep breath. Words. This moment needed words. His careening brain only gave him one.

Unnnhh.

Unnnhh.

Fucking great.

He kissed her again, softly this time, hoping it would break the talons  on his tongue. Instead, even the caveman babble went silent, leaving him  with no other option but awed silence and what had to be a dorky smile.

Crazily-magically-Brynna smiled back. She pulled on the ends of his hair before husking four soft words.

"You are so beautiful."

So that was what his brain meant by unnnhh.

He dipped his forehead against hers. Drawled with a wicked undertone,  "Good thing you're not strolling through my head right now, peach,  because my thoughts are far from beautiful."

Her eyes flared. "That sounds intriguing."

"Depends on how you define intriguing." It took supreme willpower not to  accent it by glancing at the headboard, with its custom iron inlays in a  stars and moon theme-so easily transformed by his mind into bondage  rope rigging points.

"Hmmm." Her kittenish sound was accompanied by a sexy little wriggle. "Try me."

Well, that did it.

He let a dam break. Just one-but that was more than enough. His psyche  flooded with desire; his body coursed with white-hot fire. Both  sensations were ruthless and perfect, propelling him to roll on top of  her, dragging her sweatshirt up as he went. The second he had the  garment ripped over her head, he trapped both her wrists in his grip,  shoving them into the pillows, twisting his hand in her hair as he went.  She winced as the pressure pulled on her scalp, though her eyes  instantly sparked once more, lusty gold flashing in those huge chocolate  depths.

The sight widened his grin. Ohhh the little fox, even outrunning herself  about the truth. She'd liked that slice of pain; her huge hang-up was  appearing weak or stupid about begging for it. A hurdle easily handled.  He'd simply eliminate the choice for her.

"Take it," he directed, brooking no retreat from his gaze-or the order. "You can." A sharper twist on her hair. "And you will."

Conflict stormed across her face. He was ready for it, as well as the  harder jerk of her wrists. He held them fast, letting her see his  answering expression: all the heat and pressure and desire she gifted to  him with her surrender. To make the point completely clear, he bent in  and licked the seam of her lips until she opened with a moan, letting in  his wet assault.                       
       
           



       

During the kiss, he pulled her hair harder. Again, she resisted. Again,  Rhett held her tight. By the time they ripped apart, her chest was  pumping in triple time, her teeth openly bared. He captured her pantings  with his lips, studying all the facets of her eyes again. They were  captivating before; they were a damn light show now. So stunning. He was  a kid at his first fireworks show.

With one noticeable-and at the moment, uncomfortable to the point of pain-exception.

"You are so beautiful."

She wasn't amused. Her grimace darkened. "You only able to say that when  your sadist is getting fed?" Her gasp punctuated it, as his dick pulsed  at the juncture of her thighs. He wasn't going to be sorry for it.  Wanted her to know what she did to him, for him, with this.

"You like my sadist."

For an interminable moment, she didn't answer. When she did, it was on a  reluctant rasp. "Maybe. A little. Only because he's kind of cute."

He replied, equally as softly, "So tell me no. This isn't green  light-red light, sweetheart. You say no, it means no. Tell me you don't  like it, to just let go, and I will."

She blinked, looking puzzled. "And then what?"

"Oh, I'm sure my dirty mind can come up with something."

He smirked, committing in full to the cute sadist thing. Her tension  still wasn't eased-but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing, after all.  Her breaths came harder as her fingers curled in, a sublime  demonstration of the conflict clearly hammering her. Rhett waited. Had  to issue a few silent profanities at his cock to do it, but no way in  hell was he going to hurry her through this choice. An hour of pleasure  was hers either way, but would they play by her rules or his? Did she  swim in the shallow end and keep the ground beneath her, or trust him to  lead her into the deep end?

"It's not so bad," she finally murmured. "And your hand … against my head … it makes me feel … "

"Safe?" He supplied it when she trailed off, nervously wetting her lips.  After she jerked out a nod, he leaned in tighter. "And … desired?  And … sexy?"

He watched her pupils dilate as he drew out each descriptor, lightly  licking the corners of her berry-sweet mouth after each seductive pass.  "Yes." She lifted her chin, silently pleading for fuller contact with  his lips. "Yes."

He used her hair to yank her back down. A sensual whine trembled out of  her, and he caught every note of it with the new invasion of his mouth.  He rolled and dipped and teased her with it now, spreading her slowly,  tasting her thoroughly, angling her fully as he swept into every wet,  welcoming corner …

When he was done, he slipped his hand off her head. Freed her wrists from his clutch.

"No!"

She blinked fast, her own outburst clearly a surprise, before plummeting  her head back into the pillows. Her stare popped wider when falling to  her chest, where her nipples had turned the cups of her T-shirt bra into  erotic teepees.

A blush rushed her whole face. It was one of the most incredible sights of Rhett's life.

"Ohhhh, little peach." His growled endearment fit so perfectly now. The  color suffusing her skin, combined with washes of the firelight,  transformed her dancer's figure into smooth, light pink curves that made  him want to sink his teeth deep in so places …

Hell if that wasn't the one thought that led to another.

Longing became craving. Desire became lust. And seduction was sure as fuck going to become action.

Another rumble started low in his throat, generated from the depths of  his gut. He watched it curl through her too, a proper enough warning for  the hand he twisted over the button on her shorts. After that came  free, he made short work of rasping down the zipper. Brynn sighed and  arched against him, widening the V in the denim-and exposing the lace  band of the panties beneath.

It was agony to shift away from her and rock back on his haunches, but  years of crouching in bunkers and sleeping in the dirt made him no  stranger to suffering. Those situations didn't promise this delicious  reward, either.

Soon, man. So soon now …

He snagged her gaze with his before nodding toward her sweet juncture. "I need to see more. Take them off, sweetheart."

A fresh look of conflict skated across her face, though never entered  her eyes. Those lush brown depths affirmed the conclusion that rooted  stronger in him by the minute. Given the right guidance with the proper  affection, this little fox yearned for domestication as strongly as any  submissive he'd met.

But now wasn't the time for theorization.

Definitely not.

As his blood turned to magma, his stare narrowed to the perfect pink  flesh she uncovered. Before she was done toeing off the shorts, the  moisture evaporated from his mouth. He swallowed hard then uttered  lowly, "Damn."                       
       
           



       

Brynn's lips twitched, hinting at hope and insecurity at once. "Dance costumes are unforgiving. I have to keep things … clean."

He pushed forward again, stroking fingers up and down her totally bare  sex. "There's nothing clean about what I want to do with this."

A little gasp stuttered from her. "So you don't mind?"

"Mind what? That I can see every gorgeous inch of you? That as I turn  you on, every drop of your juice will be exposed for me? That I'll know  exactly how ready your pussy is to be filled with my cock?"