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Mastered By The Mavericks(41)

By:Angel Payne


The moment he made contact, her mouth dropped open again. She began a gasp-but never finished.

Her breath was cut short by the invasion of Rhett's cock.

Rebel grunted hard.

Brynna groaned deep.

Rhett rumbled in satisfaction. "Now her holes are filled."

Rebel's ass clenched. He closed his eyes for a moment, hoping the  blackness behind his lids would lend a moment of control for his cock,  but it was no use. The scene of erotic perfection called him back,  consumed his vision. The pink plug still stuffed in Brynna's ass. His  iron-hard shaft, parting her swollen pussy. And now Rhett's sex too,  using her mouth for its carnal fulfillment.

He wasn't going to last long. Brynn sobbed deep in her throat, betraying  the precarious hold on her sanity. If that wasn't confirmation enough,  her walls tremored violently around every inch of his throbbing length.

"She's close." He tossed a glance to Rhett. Just a glance, lest he lose  his shit there and then. The man had never looked so fucking hot. One  knee was slotted to the curve of Brynn's shoulder, the other was hitched  over the back of the futon. The tree trunk he called a cock hung nearly  straight down into Brynn's mouth, stabbing her lips with an unrelenting  pace. "And damn it, so am I."

Rhett looked up, too.

Rebel groaned. So much for fleeting glances now. Even if he'd wanted to  look away he couldn't have-as Rhett ripped his hand free from Brynn's  hair and drove it into his, instead.

His scalp ignited with fire. His balls flamed like rocket boosters.  Imagine that; they felt damn similar to the flames in the depths of  Rhett's eyes.                       
       
           



       

"Do it." Rhett's command was as merciless as his grip, setting a pounding pace for Reb's body. "Do. It."

The fires engulfed him more.

Rebel didn't blink.

Lust crashed through his blood.

Rebel didn't falter.

The come surged up his cock.

Rebel didn't breathe.

Rhett yanked harder on his head. "Look at me." His nostrils flared, his  chest lurched. "Give it to her but look at me. Show it all to me."

The cataclysm hit.

Every scalding drop of come exploded from Rebel's cock, draining him,  shaking him, consuming him. He pumped and pumped, his mind spinning, his  chest thundering-but as soon as he slowed, Rhett burst with a vicious  snarl, pulling on him even harder.

"Uh-uh. More, Moonstormer. You have more."

"Rhett." He attempted a similar growl it but his throat was parched. Humping a ruck forty miles would have drained him less.

"Please. More."

Brynna's desperate moan was a bittersweet endorsement for the point. Reb  sure as hell never intended to leave her unfulfilled, but the new  clenches of her body were unmistakable in their siren song, coaxing  something strange and hot and shocking from deep inside his body. Just  as he'd commanded Brynn to do, he let the feeling in. Groaned as it  pumped up his dick again, forcing heat back to his throbbing head.  Though he had only a few more drops left, the intensity in his cock was  surreal. He lunged harder than ever into Brynna, giving her every last  drive of his hardness, every last roll of his hips.

"Holy … fuck." He grated the words between labored huffs.

"That's it." The words thrummed from Rhett, hot and heavy and seductive,  as he curled fingers tighter, driving the pace with his hold on Reb's  hair. "Fuck into her. Deeper. Deeper. Give her every drop."

Rebel lifted his head. Impaled his stare right back into those  breathtaking blues. "You, too. Do it, goddammit." He leaned in, sliding  fingers down both sides of Brynn's cheeks, until his hand framed the  bottom of her jaw. "Open up, mon chou. Rhett's going to come in your  mouth … as you come all over my cock."

His declaration unlocked the last reserves for them both.

Brynn screamed around Rhett's flesh. He, in turn, moaned hard, his hand  slipping away from Rebel's head. His balls drew in. His cock swelled.  His seed spilled down into her, answered by her erotic cry. Her throat  convulsed as she swallowed his come deep.

The sight was so incredible, it damn near hurt to look, but Rebel forced  his gaze to stay fixed and his thoughts to remain lucid. He needed to  remember this. Every amazing moment of it.

Rhett slipped free from Brynna and dropped back against the cushion,  still breathing like he'd humped the ruck for forty. Rebel took the  opening to slant back in and kiss her, nobility only half his  motivation. He needed to taste Rhett's essence in her mouth-not that  Brynn hadn't figured it out already, clearly proven by her sweet smile  as she opened her lips and offered her tongue to him.

He kissed her gently.

Then not so gently.

His mouth filled with a mixture as complex as a fine wine. Sexy and  musky, a little spicy … and a lot intimate. He hoped his gratitude flowed  through his stare, because he wasn't sure he had words to touch it.  Could she see all of it? Did she comprehend the scope of what she'd just  given to Rhett and him … the walls she'd helped them crumble? Barricades  that might have taken years to breach, if ever. She'd done that by  letting them see her courage; by looking at her submissiveness despite  how it terrified her, and coming through on the other side with new  parts of her soul uncovered.

She inspired him.

Moved him.

Humbled him.

And tore him apart from the inside out, as she rolled away and burst into tears.





Chapter Twelve





‡


"Cher." He murmured it into her hair while pressing to her from the  back, as Rhett slid in to cover from the front. To his massive relief,  she didn't resist their crowding-and for the moment, that was all he  needed to know. "It's all right," he reassured. "Let it out. As much as  you need. As long as you need to."

She eagerly took him up on that. As she sobbed harder into Rhett's  chest, the guy cast a grateful glance over her shoulder. Clearly, he was  in equally strange territory as Brynn-tempting Reb to the brink of a  laugh. Sometimes being a man-slut had its advantages. Being best friends  with one's cock made it easier to figure out how others connected with  theirs-not that Mr. Manners here was too difficult a case. Rhett liked  his D/s dynamic so formal, it edged on the same pompous protocols as the  royal court of his mother's land. But while the guy declared it all  added "meaning", it was really just a way of keeping distance. Meaning  meant messy-and since everything they'd just done had decimated Rebel's  psyche, he could only guess at the storm damage in Double-Oh's brain.                       
       
           



       

And Brynn's reaction? Probably the healthiest he'd ever seen. He  continued telling her as much, repeating his praise in different forms.  He stroked her body in long, reassuring caresses, saving the strength of  his gaze for the man who still looked like he stood in Times Square  with his pants down. And wouldn't that be a wonderful sight to  see-except for the part about sharing the magnificence of the man's cock  with twenty thousand tourists. Though he had no right, Reb was feeling  bizarrely possessive about that cock right now-and took no measures to  hide that particular sentiment, either.

Rhett averted his eyes. Fast.

With a weeping woman on his chest, he didn't have to look too far.  Instantly, his face suffused with tenderness. "Our sweet little peach."  He brushed a hand to Brynn's cheek. "You all right?"

She sniffled. "I … don't know. I'm really upside-down."

"Upside-down is okay." Reb purposely picked the nuts and bolts tone. It  wasn't as pretty as Rhett's hearts and flowers, but just as necessary.  Maybe more so. The truth would sink in better if delivered straight.  "And totally normal too," he added.

Rhett quirked a brow but didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Brynn  launched into the dirty work, returning to her back, lobbing up a laugh  of pure indictment. "Normal, hmm? Because you've run some Rebel Stafford  ‘test studies' on this shit?"

He was ready for the stab. Still didn't mean he had to like it-or the  fact that he'd earned it. "I know what it's like to come down from an  intense session, yes."

"An ‘intense session'?" Her features wobbled, struggling for a thread of  humor in the words, but just unlatching her composure for more tears.  "Oh, sheez. That's exactly what it was, wasn't it? A ‘session'."

"Minette-"

"Don't. Please don't with the minette right now." She backhanded her  forehead, balling her hand into a fist. "I still have to wrap my head  around ‘session' without wondering how many other sub-" Her lips parted,  revealing clenched teeth. "How many others you've used that one on."