Mastered By The Mavericks(53)

Rebel gripped her a little tighter. Angled his gaze closer. "Sometimes  more than a little, minette." He didn't blink, letting her see the  emphasis behind every word he uttered-that nobody knew the truth of it  all better than him. "And sometimes, you just need extra help to get  that done." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Do you understand?"

She swallowed. The breath behind it never left her. Rebel held his own  breath-and his grip on her. Tighter. A little bit tighter. She finally  exhaled-on a whimpering sigh. Fuck. Doing this-to her, with Rhett-felt  so damn good. So damn right. He treasured every passing second, knowing  it might be the last he felt it. That any moment, she'd choose to pull  another acrobatic escape, leaving the two of them with libidos clamoring  and nuts hanging. At least this time, the latter wouldn't be so  literal.

"Yes."

It was his turn for the boulder gulp. He'd been so prepared to let her go, her consent strangled the center of his throat.

And the roots of his balls.

And damn, the girl dared to smile as if she didn't know that. As if his  hold alone had already sent her halfway to subspace, and all she craved  was more of the next step he'd all but promised.

He couldn't believe it. He almost didn't dare. The ideas must have  reflected in the fierce sweep of his gaze because she repeated, adding  deeper conviction, "Yes. I understand. I need this … Sir."

Her utterance, so purposely soft and submissive, harmonized his low  groan to Rhett's taut growl. He looked up again at his friend. One  second was all it took for confirmation: they were fixed on the same  perfect goal. Brynna's ass. Bare and red. Beneath Double-Oh's palm.

He lowered his stare to her once again. Goddamn, she was so lovely. So  much of her spirit was already exposed … her desperate need for their  passionate discipline.

"Very well, then." The words sliced from him like cut timber, smooth on  the surface but edged by ruthless angles. He loved watching what the  tone did to her-and to Rhett. Those eloquent hands constricted against  her waist and hips, causing a quiver to consume her body. "If you need  this, then we'll give it to you-but this time, there are going to be  some rules."

"Yes, Sir," she murmured dutifully.

He gave her an approving smile. "It's incredible to hear you say that,  ma cher, but from now on, it won't be necessary unless requested of you.  Same goes for any unrequested outbursts, back-talk, or commentary. No  focusing on what your next witty one-liner is going to be. No worrying  about whether you're entertaining us or not. All that crazy chatter in  your head is turned off now. It belongs to us now. You belong to us  now." He squeezed in a little more on her chin, waiting until she  concentrated harder on him. "Do you understand that fully? Do you trust  us to know what you need from us, and to give it to you as fully as you  surrender yourself to us? Do you trust that we're going to take care of  you, all of you, and honor all of you as the amazing gift that you are?"

She swallowed again. A new sheen appeared in her eyes. But her lips lifted as she rasped, "Yes, Sir. Completely."

Rebel brushed a thumb across those gorgeous strawberry pillows. "That wasn't easy for you, was it?"

She sighed against his finger. "N-no, Sir."

Damn it. He couldn't help it. He had to kiss her-and he did. The brush  of his mouth over hers was threaded with the same silken reverence as  his caress. "Thank you."

When he pulled away, it was to have Rhett filling his vision, nuzzling  his full mouth against her gorgeous neck. "Gratitude is always best when  shared," he murmured. "Thank you, our wonderful peach."                       
       
           



       

As he rose back up, Rebel couldn't help but follow with his eyes, still  mesmerized. The fluid power of the man's muscles … it was scenery he'd  seen hundreds of times, but now it was even more breathtaking. More  meaningful.

And it made him itch-unbearably-to get just as partially naked.

In one motion, he peeled his T-shirt up from the bottom then tossed it  to the room's other bed. Rhett didn't cloak his full stare of  appreciation. Neither did Brynn. He flashed a smart-ass smirk at both of  them but kept the look pinned to Brynn while drawling, "The look of the  hour is skin, minette-and you're woefully down in the tally. Maybe you  should fix that, Double-Oh."

One savoring growl later, Rhett returned, "Copy that, buddy. Loud and-"

He snapped into silence the moment he slipped her skirt higher. Rebel  picked up the slack, choking loud enough for them both, before  scrabbling to rediscover his voice.

"Fuck. Me."

Okay, the rasp wasn't really a voice, either. At the moment, he didn't  care. Not much made sense beyond the roaring blood in his ears and the  pounding weight in his cock as Rhett tugged the garment, higher,  higher … revealing the black lace garter set and thigh-high stockings she  wore beneath. And the centerpiece of the whole delectable paradise? Not a  skimpy little thong or even a pair of bikini panties. The smooth,  muscled mounds of her unforgettable ass were hugged by lace-trimmed boy  shorts, the look that officially dared a man to turn not-so-naughty into  not-so-nice …

Game. On.

"Goddamn." Rhett slid two fingers beneath the edge of that adorable  underwear. He didn't stop until reaching the center panel, between her  thighs. "The prim pinstripes kit came with a devil-in-disguise option,  eh?"

Brynn, clearly recognizing the question as rhetorical, only responded  with a whimper-a composure she could only keep to her mouth. Her body  handled the situation much differently. Beneath Rhett's exploring  fingers, her ass was a feverish undulation. Rebel's point of view  afforded a perfect view of her breasts, nipples nearly stabbing through  her bra to get free. His mouth actually watered as he leaned in to  assist them-never let anyone say he wasn't a giver-by twisting the  shirt's buttons free then shoving aside the lace-lined cups.

"Let's get this moving." He ordered it at Rhett in a snarl. "She's ready, man. This beauty's tits do not lie."

Rhett sent back a savoring rumble. "Gigantic roger on that." He curled  his hand over the satin waistband of the shorts-before jerking them down  to her knees in a masterful sweep.

Mouth-watering. Now Rebel really knew what it meant.

Her ass, poised high and completely nude, was a landscape of cream  perfection, tinted with just enough of the peaches that had earned her  Rhett's special nickname. As if she could feel the weight of their  stares, Brynn tensed a little. All the muscles flexed beneath her  flawless skin, giving them one hell of an evocative preview for how  she'd react to each of Rhett's smacks.

"Holy fuck." Rhett gritted it while sweeping his fingers across the  perfect globes. On the second pass, he scraped his nails too … just enough  to leave discernible marks.

"Well said." Rebel traced a finger along one of the scratches. "And so  beautiful." He didn't stop there. Continued his caress along the back of  Rhett's hand. "The canvas … and the brush."

Without saying more, he bent again to Brynna. Studied her features  closely. A sheen to her eyes, but not because of any more tears. A  growing flush to her cheeks. Tongue sneaking out, restlessly licking her  lips. He almost laughed. The woman looked like a drug addict awaiting  her fix. No matter how this all washed in the end between the three of  them, one thing would happen before they said goodbye to her again. A  long, long conversation about the submissiveness she could no longer  ignore.

"A quick review, ma chatte." He cupped her chin once more, angling her  face a little higher. "You know why you're here like this, right?"

Her anticipating glow sobered. Her mouth tensed. "Because I snuck out of the ranch without telling either of you."

"And … ?"

"And planned to flirt my way into Adler's good graces as a pharmaceutical rep with a closet sex maniac side."

He shared a stunned choke with Rhett.

"Well … all right. You've certainly given new dimension to brutal honesty."

Her brows quirked up. "What? Did you think I'd captivate him with my witty personality alone?"                       
       
           



       

With an I-got-this nod, Rhett lowered a fast slap to one of her ass  cheeks. It was enough to make her yelp, followed by a self-castigating  bite to her lower lip. "What did we say about your words, little peach?"

Brynn dropped her gaze, so damn magnificent in her meekness, before replying, "That they belong to both of you."