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Mastered By The Mavericks(34)

By:Angel Payne


"Feel so … what?"

She huffed. Like that was going to get her out of this. Averting her  eyes, or even trying to, was out of the question. Rhett vised her chin  between two fingers, ensuring she knew that as one really unalterable  fact. Demon Viking. Rebel was the man's evil accomplice, spreading  tingles down her whole left leg thanks to his savoring growl against her  inner thigh.

"So … good," she finally rasped.

Rebel gave her another growl. This time, the right leg got some sugar.

Rhett relaxed his hold and widened his grin. It was the opening she'd  needed to jerk away but God, did he have to tilt his head into the  sunlight that way, firing the rays through the tips of his hair, turning  his eyes into azure crystals? She couldn't look away if Moses himself  appeared to part the waters of the lake.

"That was also honest," he said. "And really stunning, sweetheart."

His approval, piled on top of his beauty, was the undoing she didn't want to disguise. "Thank you," she murmured.

"Now what else?" he urged. "How else does it feel? Tell us about now. What do you feel right now?"

Her lungs filled with a long breath. What did she feel? Okay, so  interpreting feelings was what she did for a living-even kinky ones from  time to time-but she wasn't on the clock right now, damn it. Weren't  they all just here for, as the man himself would say in that  half-and-half accent, a little snog and shag? An escapist fuck?

She tensed again, resisting the harder push at her composure.

But as Rebel eased his tongue in, soothing his abuse of her clit with  soft, wet strokes interspersed with teasing, masterful flicks, her  muscles softened. Her defenses dropped. Heat suffused her once more,  though the flood was really different than the first. This heat had  energy. Urgency.

"It's warm," she finally rasped. "Really warm. Like how everything feels after I've had a tough rehearsal, only … "

"Better?"

At that moment, Rebel shifted his tongue again … tucking just beneath her hood.

"Yes!" She choked it out as her womb convulsed, and new arousal sluiced  through every inch of her sex. "Ohhhh … yes." Oh, God. Again, he hit the  spot that sent shockwaves clear down to her knees. "B-better," she  stammered. "Better."                       
       
           



       

"That's our good girl." Rhett crooned it before devouring her mouth in a  deep, hard kiss. At the same time, Rebel greedily sucked the fresh  juices from her trembling tunnel. Her senses spun. Her mind whirled. The  only way she recognized "up" was due to the zip tie chain over her  head.

How life could change, when all the rules were shattered.

How amazing one body could feel, when all its boundaries were stripped.

And holy hell, they weren't even done. Her confession revved their  attention to new realms of intensity, turning their moans into sounds of  savagery, transforming their tongues into living creatures in their own  right. Both men licked and sucked and adored her, Rebel at her clit and  Rhett at her neck, until the sounds crawling from her own throat were  just as harsh, hungry, needy-

Until those moans broke into screams.

In the moments when the duo locked gazes, traded grins, and sank their teeth into her … together.

Moments like now.

"Aaahhhh! Ohhh, shit!"

Rhett's sensual snarl curled into her ear as he rubbed a thumb across  the nipple he'd just pulled taut between his teeth. "Enjoying the ride,  peach?"

She forced a hard swallow, wetting her dry throat. "You two are driving me crazy, if that's what you mean."

"Hmmm." Rebel planted a kiss to her mound while lifting a shit-eating smirk. "Yeah. That's what we mean."

He gave her no room for a comeback, gliding his lips back down into the  tender flesh that now all but screamed for his touch. Perfectly synched,  Rhett scooted around and circled her nipples with languorous licks.

Crazy. She suddenly recognized it as a huge misnomer on her part. It  fell pitifully short of the tempest they'd really unleashed in her  blood, across her skin, inside the deepest corners of her sex. She was  debilitated by their bondage, drugged by their lust … but at the same  time, never more awake, alert, alive.

No. Not crazy at all.

It was magic. And fire. And need. The furnace in her sex intensified.  The flames in her blood turned white-hot. Her body trembled from scalp  to soles, tripling the torment of remaining still for them-especially as  Rhett cupped both her breasts, pulling out her aching, taut nipples and  declaring, "Look at this, Moon. Look how hard you've made our little  girl's tits."

After a heated glance up, followed by a rough, approving groan, Reb stabbed his tongue higher against her sex.

"Ohhhh, God!" she moaned.

"Hell, yes," Rhett growled. "Give it to her, Moon. Fuck her with your tongue, man."

Rebel didn't waste a second on hesitation. A small scream, then a bigger  one, erupted from Brynna as her walls clamped down on his probing  tongue. She wanted more. Needed more. Contracted her pelvic muscles to  make her pussy pull him deeper inside. Deeper.

As her knees turned to mush, she sagged. Rhett supported her from  behind, one arm around her waist, his other hand sliding forward,  gripping her inner thigh.

"Spread wider for him, sweetheart. I want to see the cunt you're  offering my friend. Is it worthy of his kisses? Is it worthy of an  orgasm for him?"

"For you." The words sprang up, feeling so natural, so good-because, she  suddenly realized, they came from a place deeper than just the places  that throbbed physically for them. "For both of you … Sirs." She let her  head fall back, searching for his gaze with her own. "Please. Yes?"

His generous mouth curled up in a proud smile-lighting that same place  in her spirit with its brilliance. He didn't falter the expression as he  directed, "Shove it in deep, Reb. Make her explode."

He finished it by plunging his tongue into her mouth-coinciding with the  first complete stab of Rebel's tongue. Holy hell. She thought the man  had been licking her as deep as possible before, but now conceded that  lashing as a warm-up the real assault. His teeth ground into her clit.  His lips damn near broke skin on her mound. His nose was so deep, he  inhaled nothing but the trembling tissues at the top of her pussy. Rhett  didn't relent, either. Her mouth was prisoner to his, stretched wide by  his relentless drive, her sighs tangling with his eager groans.

It was so much. So much. Their scents in her nose. Their tongues in her  holes. Their hands on her … everywhere. Yet she craved more. Mewled and  moaned for it. Writhed and strained for it. Soaked up every drop of  their consuming, conquering desire, reveling in in its power through her  veins and its command in her spirit, until her resistance gave way,  giving over in ultimate, exquisite surrender.

She came on a tidal wave of blinding heat and thoughtless rapture, her  body seizing as her mind left the building completely. The surge turned  into a tsunami, consuming the shores of her thoughts, her logic, even  her sense of which way was up. She didn't care. Didn't feel a damn thing  beyond the pulses in her sex, the throbs beneath her breasts, the  thorough surrender to the strength and heat of her two incredible  lovers, keeping her safe as she drowned, over and over and over again …                        
       
           



       

Wow.

Fucking … wow.

Rhett kept kissing her, seeming to know she needed the release for  returning slowly to herself. It was a blessing and a curse. Huge parts  of her longed to pull away as an overwhelming sting burned the backs of  her eyes. She could not cry on them; not after she'd been the one  declaring she knew what big girl panties were, as well as how to wear  them.

After a few seconds to breathe deep and regroup, she was fine-

Until she wasn't.

The tremors took over every inch of her body, annihilating her from the  inside out. Damn, damn, damn. She'd managed not to cry but lost it over  everything else in her nervous system: uncontrollable shakes that made  no sense at all. She wasn't even cold. What the hell?

"Shit." Rebel shot to his feet, yanked the twist ties off the hook then curled her arms against his chest. "Scissors?"

"Roger." Rhett's reply overlapped. It took him three seconds to slide  the shears in and snip the plastic loose. Rebel braced his legs wider,  absorbing her sagging weight in full.

"Brynna," he reproved. "Ma belle. Why didn't you tell us about the issue with your circulation?"

She lifted her head, unable to hold back a seductive grin. Buh-bye,  irksome shivers. Hello, pirate stud. "What issue?" Oh hell, he was so  much better to gaze at from this close, with that stubbled jaw and  stressed-out gaze. And God, his chest … despite concealment by the dark  T-shirt, it seemed broader, harder, more grip-worthy now than it'd been  on the plane, but she hadn't been able to truly explore him then. Now,  that opportunity waited to be grabbed by the proverbial horns-with both  hands. In light of how he'd just fondled her, this was damn near her  right.