Mastered By The Mavericks(54)

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.