Mastered By The Mavericks(33)

They rocked harder together. Harder. Their tempo was urgent, pounding,  primal-but not for long. They slowed as Rebel curled his hands over her  from the front, dragging over her with possessive force: down her  breasts, along her ribs, to the V at the center of her body. Once there,  he dropped to his knees, muttering something filthy in French as he  buried his nose in her pussy. He switched to English for his next hard  growl. "More." Backed it up by reaching up and wrapping his hands around  her ass-

Which pressed his fingertips against the sides of Rhett's cock.

"Fuck."

All three of them shouted it at once.

Rhett finished his bellow with a groan. Brynn added a shuddering sigh.

Rebel-goddamn bastard-unfurled a wicked laugh.

"I'm going to eat you now, mon chou." His stare was still a sword-that  had been honed in a forge of dominant sexuality. "I'm going to spread  this blossom wide, and drink every drop of its juicy nectar. Then I'm  going to drill my tongue into your perfect cunt, until you come hard  against my mouth."

Brynn moaned. Shivered all over. Rhett knew it as a certainty because every last one of those quakes zinged through him too.

Rebel dug into her ass, his hold becoming demand. Rhett clenched his  teeth and almost swore. Don't do that again, asshole. Please do that  again, asshole.

"Ma chatte?" There was no sensual tease to it now. "Tell me you  understand, and that you'll accept the pleasure I'm ready to give. You  know the words to use."

"Oh, God!" Brynn moaned it as he extended his tongue, swiping into her sex with slow deliberation. "Ohhhh. shit … please!"

"Not the words. Should I tell Rhett to spank you again, perhaps as a reminder?"

"No, Sir."

No, Sir?
                       
       
           



       
Rhett didn't hide his bafflement. Even with the small bombshell  reference to the spanking, those were the last words he'd expected from  her. Well, almost. Her breathing was more shallow and her limbs more  tense, conveying her fresh conflict. Did that mean she'd hated the  words … or loved them and hated that fact?

"I-I mean yes, Sir," she suddenly added. "I mean that I understand. And … I'm ready to accept it. All of your pleasure. Please!"

That sure as hell answered things. In all the right ways.

A smile hooked at Rhett's lips. He looked down to Rebel-who sent out the  same message with the warmth in his eyes, considering how his mouth was  full with the sweetest pussy on the planet.

"Fuck." Rhett issued it while burying his face in her thick strawberry  hair, though throwing his gaze directly into Rebel's. "This is going to  be so damn good."

As if he needed any more affirmation, the ten fingers against his cock  squeezed again … another invitation down a path where secrets were safe  and the rules were damned.





Chapter Ten





‡


Who the hell are you? What the hell are you doing? What the hell have you become?

The demands slashed from the edges of Brynn's psyche, puncturing her  mists of arousal, desperate attempts to remind her that a week ago,  she'd vowed never to be a bound, begging thing at the end of a tether,  all but asking a man's permission to draw her next breath.

Hypocrite.

Where's your conviction now, Brynna? Where's the woman who vowed she'd  make no man her religion? Where's the person who swore her life would be  bigger than what Mom promised … better than what Enya settled for?

She was still here, damn it.

She just wanted a break.

Needed a break.

Oh, God … just this once, just for this razor's edge in time, she needed  to dance on that dangerous blade, to court every nasty, naughty creature  of her desires to twirl there with her … to bleed from the cuts of her  own salacious fantasies …

To give up. Give in. Give over.

To trust.

Just

for

one

moment …

Funny things, those moments.

In one, a person could be wrestling with themselves, but still halfway  sane. In the very next, the world was a different place, blinding and  brilliant, centered on a tiny bundle of nerves at the center of their  body, being touched so exquisitely that concepts like gravity, time, and  linear thought were total farces.

The morning sun beamed into the office, warming her skin-and emulating  the recognition that blazed into her soul. There was no way to fight it,  to deny it, to ignore it. She belonged to them. Right here, right now,  on this edge of existence, she was at the complete mercy of these two  men: these mavericks who'd shattered her, broken her, exposed her … and  adored her for all of it. More than that, were actually determined to  reward her for it. In such incredible ways …

"Ahhhh!"

Maybe not so incredible.

She twisted her head, trying to glare down at Rebel. Hilarious concept,  considering her scope of vision had turned bubble gum pink. "Did you-"

"Bite your gorgeous clit?" He responded as if inquiring if she wanted  catsup with her fries. "Why yes, ma chatte. I did. And it was delicious.  Thank you. I liked it so much, I may just take another taste."

"No!"

"Excellent idea." Though Rhett's voice was a drawl, he cupped the side  of her face with opposite intent, forcing it up toward him. "And this  time, I'm going to watch every effect it has on our darling girl."

His promise short-circuited her logic. Rebel's teeth, closing in on her  there, truly wasn't the most pleasant sensation-but getting to hear more  of that rasp in Rhett's tone, coarse and sexy with arousal … what would  she do for that?

Like she had a choice in the matter.

"Ohhhh!"

Which, clearly, she did not.

Rebel chuckled as he dug in again, gently teething the flesh along one  side of her pussy then the other, before trailing inward with shorter,  sharper bites. Brynn's buttocks clenched, trying to fight the strange  combination of stimulation and pain, but the man commanded her to  compliance by grabbing her cheeks harder, followed by a reprimanding  grunt.

Rhett backed up his friend's intent, pulling the T-shirt from her eyes  so she confronted the rebuke in his eyes. "Hold still, sweetheart." He  twisted his fingertips into her hair.

She blinked, vision distorted by the sudden light. "I'm trying!"

He softly kissed her lips-but then gritted against them, "Not enough."

"Damn it!"                       
       
           



       

"Brynna." He coiled her hair tighter. "Why are you fighting it so much? Fighting us?"

She didn't know what to say. His query alone tossed up her logic worse  than a first-night bartender mixing a perfect Manhattan. His tone,  snowdrift gentle, was accompanied by the scorch of his torque on her  scalp-a conflict that should've been troubling at the least. But it  wasn't. Not at all. In actuality, the confinement made her feel … safe.  Even a little … treasured. Which had her sympathizing with the damn  bartender all over again.

"I-" Okay, it was a start. But his expectant scowl repeated his message.  Not enough. "Because I'm confused," she finally confessed. And did they  have to be taking this up now, with Rebel continuing to nip at her in  so many amazing places down there?

Until … he didn't. And started the biting thing again.

The biting thing.

That was going to be followed by the sucking thing. Then the licking thing.

Which now, didn't make the biting thing so bad anymore.

Oh God, she was so mixed up.

"Why?" Rhett asked it with his North Sea eyes, roaming them across her  face as if the fate of freaking nations awaited in her answer-as Rebel  continued to spiral the incredible heat in her sex. This was so unreal,  she almost couldn't believe it was happening.

A new pinch from Rebel's teeth reminded her that really wasn't the case.

A new, harder pinch.

"Aaahhhh!" She exploded the air with the scream, but concentrated on  controlling her struggles through it. But why? Why the hell was she  struggling so much to please them, when she didn't want all this? When  she should've been ordering them to cut her down, set her free, and stop  digging their teeth into the most tender tissues of her body?  Confusion. Yep. That pretty much pegged it. "Be-because he's hurting me,  okay?"

One side of Rhett's mouth turned up-another "reward" that wasn't  supposed to feel so damn good. "That's honest," he praised. "Thank you."

"And that does not help me." It was cranky, probably dancing near some  Dom line of his, but she didn't care. Not that he let her know at all,  continuing to regard her with Perry Mason calm.

"Because you're still confused?"

Brilliant deduction, counselor. "Because it's pain. And pain shouldn't also feel so-"