Mastered By The Mavericks(36)

Her eyes flared. A heated breath escaped. "Things involving rope, pistols, and daggers?"

He framed her jaw in his free hand. Jerked her face upward. "Now you're  bringing rope into this, Miss I-don't-do-submissiveness? Because that  boundary doesn't get crossed until a hell of a lot more talking takes  place-and right now, I sure as fuck don't feel like talking."

She dipped her face until her lips collided into his forefinger-where she pulled on it with her teeth. "Neither do I."

He hissed. The pain wasn't brutal but sharp enough to spike his  heartrate, shooting fresh blood to the places that did not need it right  now.

"Such a talented little mouth," he growled. "Perhaps you'll show me what  other things it can do … and other ways it likes to play."

She gazed up at him through her lashes. "It'll be my pleasure."

He sucked air back in. "Well, Miss Not-Submissive, you've grasped the hang of that one pretty well."

"Thank you, Mr. Stafford."

He shifted his hand to the side of her face. Dug his grip in, fingers  forming to the curve of her jaw. "You're going to say that again, just  as pretty, when my dick's deep inside you. Then again every time I make  you come."

It was a bit of work to hide his smug smile at her flush of arousal.  God, he loved how his nasty ways stunned her-and fascinated her. She was  like a blank book embedded with secret ink. Every time a page was  turned and stroked the right way, a unique design appeared, delighting  him all over again. He couldn't wait to paint her newest pages with his  most illicit intent.

"Tell me you understand, mon chou."

She wetted her lips and swallowed hard. "I-I understand."

He issued approval with a curt nod. Slipped his hand away from her face.  "Now go wait for me in the center of Rhett's futon. Reach back with  your arms and grab the cushion over your head. And spread your legs,  knees bent up, exposing your pussy for me. Is all of that understood?"

"Very, very much … Sir."

She turned and sashayed away, letting the impact of that snatch his mind  and cock in all the best ways. It was the work of his staunchest  self-control not to smack her pert little ass, working in glorious  harmony with her dance-toned thighs.

He couldn't get naked fast enough.

His own movements probably looked like a wasted ape in comparison to  hers-not that he was bucking for the grace-under-pressure trophy any  time soon. The day job had maxed out his points on that scoreboard,  anyhow-and the only priority at this point was freeing his cock from his  track pants without breaking the damn thing off. It was stiff as a  poker but felt fragile as ash.

He'd finally kicked the fuckers free just as Rhett walked back in. In  one of his hands, he toted a bottle of lube and a pretty little anal  plug. In his other were nipple clamps on a chain and a finger-held  vibrator.

"Dude. She calls me the pirate but you hit the bounty."

Rhett's gaze flicked down as if tractor-beamed to Reb's erection. Though  his face suffused with color, he murmured, "Guess I did." Inside a  second, he retracted to all-business mode. "Pirate?"

"Subject for later." He pulled on the same gruff mantle. If not, he'd  end up making a move Double-Oh clearly wasn't ready for yet. Better to  take things back to the setting that worked … the new portals of  communication Brynna had unlocked between them simply with the light of  her presence and the openness of her spirit. In his book, there was  absolutely nothing wrong with that choice, either. Just thinking of her  on the futon, arranging herself as he'd instructed …  "Come on. I think  you'll enjoy the view in here just as much, man."                       
       
           



       

"Yeah?" Rhett smirked, another step in the right direction. Though  Brynna was still in another room, he was able to relax without her.  Maybe he'd begun to see that Reb didn't want to change what was  them … only enhance it.

Another subject for much later.

Especially after they walked into the adjoining room-and halted together at the sight awaiting them on the futon.

"Fuck," Reb uttered.

"Me," Rhett finished.

She dropped his jaw. Seared his blood. And moved his spirit.

Yeah, there was the physical resplendence, undeniable and endless. She  was something out of a sappy classic hair band ballad, all Godiva hair,  endless legs, and honeyed skin, with those high puckered breasts and her  pussy pink and glistening. But that wasn't her perfection by half. The  reason his breath still clutched and his cock still surged had  everything to do with the rest. The sincere glow in her eyes. The  tentative pout of her lips. The eager strain of her arms as she gripped  the cushion not only out of obedience to his wishes, but a necessary  restraint of herself, especially as she took a visual drink of his  nudity for the very first time-an experience that actually made him as  nervous.

"I'd try to be witty and say that's my line," she finally told them, "but I don't want to be witty right now."

Her admission moved him as deeply as her stare. With both, she openly  adored him, uncaring that he wasn't some smooth, flawless thing from a  magazine ad. Both his arms were full of the ink that told his life's  story, some of it good, some of it pretty damn ugly. As bodies went, he  supposed the rest of his wasn't bad, covered in swarthy skin a lot of  women found hot, if they didn't mind the nicks and scars that served as  fun little souvenirs of the skirmishes he'd survived-just as many before  his army career as after. But now, she saw it all, and openly accepted  it.

No. More than that.

She craved it.

"You want to be mine."

Cocky? Yes. Accurate? If her soft, thankful smile was any indication: hell, yes.

Damn. Damn. She was so incredible in her earnestness about all of  this … about her blatant need to please Rhett and him. Soon-very soon-he  vowed to sit the woman down, pick apart where and why she'd learned to  pair submissive with weak-then set her straight about the truth,  specifically as it applied to the passionate, perfect depths of her  heart.

But the woman clearly didn't want her heart plunged right now.

Which his cock received as the greatest fucking news in the world.

"Astute observation, my friend." Rhett said it in such a conversational  tone, he actually became a distraction from Brynn-a pretty nice one. Reb  was damn glad his hard-on was uninhibited now. Clothes would've been a  problem once being dunked in the fathomless waters of his friend's gaze.  Christ. It was a baptism of pure erogeny for his body-and another  bullet in his brain. That man's fucking eyes. They hit things so deep,  he couldn't even identify it all-a recognition almost driving him to  look away. Almost.

"She wants to be yours, Moon." The man finished it by inching up one  side of his mouth-another gesture so sinister but sexy, Reb's composure  was jarred again. Hell. Between this bastard and Brynn, he'd been off  his game more times today alone than the last three years combined. It  was fucking awesome.

He recovered enough to square his chin, settle hands on his hips, and mock, "What would you like me to do about that, Sir?"

Well, hell.

It was the craziest way he'd ever gotten back in the game. Exactly what  game at this point, he wasn't sure. If he was with a subbie in a  dungeon, it'd clearly be cat and mouse-but this sure as hell wasn't a  dungeon and Rhett sure as fuck wasn't a cute little subbie,  demonstrating as much by closing the space between them with a single,  steady step. He stopped about a foot away, letting the gray-blue  intensity of his gaze travel down, down, down … then back up again.  Remained still while Reb stared ruthlessly in return.

Goddammit, the man was beautiful. The bold slashes of his forceful jaw.  The stark desire in his eyes. The taut planes of his abs. Just below  that, the stiff shaft forming a huge tent in his pants below tenting his  pants …

He abstained from licking his lips but indulged a heavy gulp. If this  was all he'd ever get from Rhett in the way of acknowledging their  connection, he'd be happy-especially if Brynn got to remain in the  picture. If the guy had to keep a toy on the field to distract the crowd  from what was really happening, then fuck yes, please let the toy be  her.                       
       
           



       

The same thoughts appeared to be stomping through Rhett's mind. "Well?"  he prompted, nodding toward the spectacular woman on the bed. "Give her  exactly what she wants, man. Climb up there and put that hot cock inside  her. Bury yourself in her-and make it good, because I'll be watching."

Rebel curled a come-hither grin. "Promise?"