Rebel lowered a tender kiss to her forehead. "Good girl."
She sighed. "Thank you, Sir."
He only acknowledged her words with a polite nod. She wasn't acquiescing to this because she wanted hearts, flowers, and sonnets. She'd given them her straight-up honesty because she craved the same: voices that would intervene with the screams in her head, leaders who could calm the confusion that'd driven her actions in the first place. It felt damn good to comprehend that-and to know Rhett did, too. Disciplining her for it was another twine in the rope that bound them closer. He hoped like hell it led to more-but if it didn't, this was beaucoup de bien for the memory books.
With that in mind, he nudged her chin up again. "Let's be completely clear. None of this honesty earns you a free excuse from the dishonesty that's already gone down." He read the retort that sparked into her eyes, quickly reined into silence. "Oh, don't worry, minette. I saw where you went with that. And yes, running away from us was just as devious as boldface lying to us. Perhaps worse." He made sure she could take in every inch of his face again, now defined by the memories of the panic when realizing he'd climbed into bed with nothing but a mound of pillows. "You ran from us, Brynna. After we all shared ourselves like that-bared so much, stripped away so much more than our clothes-you bolted from our bed then fled the ranch itself, not even giving us a chance to help you process the emotional fallout. I think there's a word for it in your vernacular. Something like ‘unhealthy'?"
This one would earn him her wrath. Annnnd there it was, blasting away the haze in her eyes, pushing through her locked teeth as she seethed, "That's not-ow!"
Rhett's hand against her butt, smacking down twice as hard as before, prompted her outcry.
"It's not … what?" Rebel countered. "Not correct? Not fair?" He paused, making sure she saw the anger fire up his eyes, too. "Because … why? You thought we wouldn't listen? Wouldn't understand? That we wouldn't get it, about that war in your mind? That we wouldn't know what it's like to look for the path between your head and your heart? Between the duty and the danger?"
He'd clearly hammered another nerve. Her fury gave way to grief, tightening her body, making her yank in his hold. Rebel stretched to secure her by the nape, forcing her gaze to remain on him. "You have to hear it, Brynna. What you did was dangerous. Very, very dangerous. You-and Zoe, and her unborn child-could have easily been killed."
Her face crumpled. "No!"
Rhett didn't discipline for the outburst. Reb didn't blame him. Her own agony was punishment enough.
"We know that wasn't your intention." He rubbed her neck, pressing his fingers as firmly as his words. "And we know you're sorry. But now … you're going to prove it to us, as well." He let her drag in a long breath then let it out on a rickety sigh. "Do you still understand me?"
She nodded, shaky and teary. "Y-Yes, Sir."
"Good."
He slipped his hand back to her jaw … unable not to notice how her lungs heaved harder, pushing out her nipples, now erect as two perfect rubies. The only thing that would make those breasts more stunning would indeed be a pair of clamps, maybe attached with a glittering chain, turning her chest into a sparkling masterpiece …
"Rhett's going to spank you now." He descended into an authoritative tone. He liked the voice best for scenes. Not only did it help keep his cock in check-definitely a plus, considering where the damn thing clamored to be right now-but purifying everything into strict business mode also separated emotions from actions, meaning he could fill in the gap with as much naughty dirt as he wanted.
In the case of this extraordinary woman … he wanted.
Without even looking back up at Rhett, he knew the sentiment was shared.
Fuck, yes.
"Eighteen," he intoned then. "That's the number you're getting, cher. One for every ten minutes of the hours you decided to run from us, instead of trusting us."
As he spoke, Rhett massaged her ass again-though the strokes were tougher this time, kneading and pinching. As he dug in harder, Brynn let out a high-pitched mewl.
"Ssshhh, little peach. Take it in. Breathe. I'm warming you up. Bringing the blood to the surface of your skin, so you're well-prepared … for what's ahead."
She struggled to obey but the wicked lilt he laid over his promise was a steel hook down her throat, snagging her breath. And damn it, the woman wore uncertainty like most others wore silk robes. So fucking alluring.
Rebel couldn't wait to strip it from her.
He showed her so by tangling a hand in her hair, and pulling her head to the side. Slanted his mouth over the exposed column of her neck, which looked and felt like the silk he'd evoked. "The warm-up, minette … it's like foreplay, only better."
She tasted so good. He licked, sucked, and nipped at her, reveling in her wild pulse against his tongue, as he snuck a hand into what little was left of her cleavage, fingers seeking a pert nipple to toy with. She gasped as he made contact. Her areola crumpled against his fingertips. Her nipple was hot and hard, swelling tighter as he rolled then tugged on it. Before he even touched the other, a harsh cry broke from deep in her throat. As he actually pulled at her nipple, she sobbed.
Rebel captured the sound with a deep sweep of his lips. "Better?" he asked, after dragging up from her.
"Yes, Sir." Her gaze radiated over his face, full of wonder and arousal-
Smack.
Then pain.
"Ahhhh!"
"One."
Her lips twisted and her throat convulsed, clearly debating the legitimacy of Rhett's placid claim. In her mind, they should've been at eight or nine already. The guy hadn't pulled the blow by a single fraction-a move for which Rebel issued approval with a quick glance. Rhett replied with a sexier-than-shit smirk while raising his hand back up …
Smack.
"Two."
To Rebel's shock, she responded with nothing but a stubborn grunt-and a newly tense body. Rhett's face tightened, taking notice of the same thing. Rebel dipped in at once, hoping to help the situation. Though she relaxed a little as he trailed the flat of his tongue from her earlobe to collarbone, she tensed the moment Rhett lifted his hand again.
Smack.
"Ohhhh!"
"Three."
"Damn it!"
Rhett gave her four and five without a reprieve.
"Mother fucker."
Six. Seven. Eight.
Harder. Harder. Harder.
"Crraaaap. Really?"
Rhett grunted hard. Pinched both her cheeks just as brutally. "Any more creativity on that little tongue of yours, peach? Because that just earned you another swat. I'd love to make it a nice, even twenty, just for symmetry's sake."
"Goddamn." Rebel couldn't restrain it-not when the vibrations of the spanks still rang on the air, and the bloom over her backside filled his greedy vision. "So would I." He chuckled, not a little sheepishly, as she shot him a who's-side-are-you-on glare. "Trés désolé, ma belle fifille … but if any woman's ass was made to be thrashed like this, it is most certainly yours."
Rhett rumbled with baritone agreement. "She's so hot already." He flattened his hand, smoothing the perfect humps now. "Fuck. So hot."
Rebel fought the urge to raise his hand and test that theory-but his mind already created the scenario that would follow. The heat of Rhett's hands, fusing into his own. The craving to have more. The need for those long, powerful fingers against his flesh … around his balls …
Never to be.
The boxes of Rhett's life were clear-and made of steel. While Rebel had danced along their edges, even teased the man to peek out a little, he'd never even hoped for the chance to gain more. Then Brynna had come along-magical, sensual Brynna-stirring a sexual freedom in Rhett that surpassed anything Reb dared to imagine, much less desire. When she was finally gone, the man's box would slam shut again.
That meant focusing fully on everything they could have together now. Basking in the beauty of her soft shoulders and lolled head, feeling the force of what she gave back to them, right here and now. Of how incredibly she processed the power Rhett had infused to her body, then refilled so much of the air with it. The power of her submission made his senses swim … and set his libido ablaze.
"Fuck."
He breathed the word, robbed of its volume by his pure gratitude. Thank fuck for the counterweight of lust, helping him push out the rest of it.
"Make it hotter."
He didn't miss how his command made Brynn shiver-or the tighter puckers at the tips of her tits. She was scared-but damn, did she like it.