Mastered By The Mavericks (16 page)

Having played techno-geek throughout the ranch after arriving yesterday, Rhett knew
the fireplace was activated by a toggle switch located in the room’s lighting control
panel, just inside the door. On his way to the bed, he flipped that button and no
other. As he’d promised, they were going to do this right, and that included the textbook
lighting treatment. If this woman’s body was half as exquisite as he imagined, shadows
and fire flickers were going to be juuuust fine.

He sent a pair of resounding thuds through the room while stepping to the platform
that held the plush king bed. He lowered Brynna to the mattress, following her down
in the same controlled motion.

He had an initial plan—something about brushing the hair from her eyes, stroking a
gentle hand down her body, and gazing patiently into her eyes—that was shot into hell’s
huge handbasket once she was prone beneath him. Step one was barely finished before
he coiled a hand into her hair, fisting the russet strands in order to lift her face,
preparing her mouth for his new invasion.

They shared moans as their tongues tangled, each devouring the other as if they’d
embraced like this ten years ago, instead of minutes. Her arms lifted and wrapped
around his neck with unbridled passion. When they pulled apart, that fire flowed into
the depths of her searching gaze.

Rhett forced down a deep breath. Words. This moment needed words. His careening brain
only gave him one.

Unnnhh.

Unnnhh.

Fucking great.

He kissed her again, softly this time, hoping it would break the talons on his tongue.
Instead, even the caveman babble went silent, leaving him with no other option but
awed silence and what had to be a dorky smile.

Crazily—magically—Brynna smiled back. She pulled on the ends of his hair before husking
four soft words.

“You are so beautiful.”

So
that
was what his brain meant by
unnnhh.

He dipped his forehead against hers. Drawled with a wicked undertone, “Good thing
you’re not strolling through my head right now, peach, because my thoughts are far
from beautiful.”

Her eyes flared. “That sounds intriguing.”

“Depends on how you define intriguing.” It took supreme willpower not to accent it
by glancing at the headboard, with its custom iron inlays in a stars and moon theme—so
easily transformed by his mind into bondage rope rigging points.

“Hmmm.” Her kittenish sound was accompanied by a sexy little wriggle. “Try me.”

Well, that did it.

He let a dam break. Just one—but that was more than enough. His psyche flooded with
desire; his body coursed with white-hot fire. Both sensations were ruthless and perfect,
propelling him to roll on top of her, dragging her sweatshirt up as he went. The second
he had the garment ripped over her head, he trapped both her wrists in his grip, shoving
them into the pillows, twisting his hand in her hair as he went. She winced as the
pressure pulled on her scalp, though her eyes instantly sparked once more, lusty gold
flashing in those huge chocolate depths.

The sight widened his grin. Ohhh the little fox, even outrunning herself about the
truth. She’d
liked
that slice of pain; her huge hang-up was appearing weak or stupid about begging for
it. A hurdle easily handled. He’d simply eliminate the choice for her.

“Take it,” he directed, brooking no retreat from his gaze—or the order. “You can.”
A sharper twist on her hair. “And you will.”

Conflict stormed across her face. He was ready for it, as well as the harder jerk
of her wrists. He held them fast, letting her see his answering expression: all the
heat and pressure and desire she gifted to him with her surrender. To make the point
completely clear, he bent in and licked the seam of her lips until she opened with
a moan, letting in his wet assault.

During the kiss, he pulled her hair harder. Again, she resisted. Again, Rhett held
her tight. By the time they ripped apart, her chest was pumping in triple time, her
teeth openly bared. He captured her pantings with his lips, studying all the facets
of her eyes again. They were captivating before; they were a damn light show now.
So stunning. He was a kid at his first fireworks show.

With one noticeable—and at the moment, uncomfortable to the point of pain—exception.

“You are
so
beautiful.”

She wasn’t amused. Her grimace darkened. “You only able to say that when your sadist
is getting fed?” Her gasp punctuated it, as his dick pulsed at the juncture of her
thighs. He wasn’t going to be sorry for it. Wanted her to know what she did to him,
for
him, with this.

“You like my sadist.”

For an interminable moment, she didn’t answer. When she did, it was on a reluctant
rasp. “Maybe. A little. Only because he’s kind of cute.”

He replied, equally as softly, “So tell me no. This isn’t green light-red light, sweetheart.
You say no, it means no. Tell me you don’t like it, to just let go, and I will.”

She blinked, looking puzzled. “And then what?”

“Oh, I’m sure my dirty mind can come up with something.”

He smirked, committing in full to the cute sadist thing. Her tension still wasn’t
eased—but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, after all. Her breaths came harder as
her fingers curled in, a sublime demonstration of the conflict clearly hammering her.
Rhett waited. Had to issue a few silent profanities at his cock to do it, but no way
in hell was he going to hurry her through this choice. An hour of pleasure was hers
either way, but would they play by her rules or his? Did she swim in the shallow end
and keep the ground beneath her, or trust him to lead her into the deep end?

“It’s not so bad,” she finally murmured. “And your hand…against my head…it makes me
feel…”

“Safe?” He supplied it when she trailed off, nervously wetting her lips. After she
jerked out a nod, he leaned in tighter. “And…desired? And…sexy?”

He watched her pupils dilate as he drew out each descriptor, lightly licking the corners
of her berry-sweet mouth after each seductive pass. “Yes.” She lifted her chin, silently
pleading for fuller contact with his lips. “
Yes.
”

He used her hair to yank her back down. A sensual whine trembled out of her, and he
caught every note of it with the new invasion of his mouth. He rolled and dipped and
teased her with it now, spreading her slowly, tasting her thoroughly, angling her
fully as he swept into every wet, welcoming corner…

When he was done, he slipped his hand off her head. Freed her wrists from his clutch.

“No!”

She blinked fast, her own outburst clearly a surprise, before plummeting her head
back into the pillows. Her stare popped wider when falling to her chest, where her
nipples had turned the cups of her T-shirt bra into erotic teepees.

A blush rushed her whole face. It was one of the most incredible sights of Rhett’s
life.

“Ohhhh, little peach.” His growled endearment fit so perfectly now. The color suffusing
her skin, combined with washes of the firelight, transformed her dancer’s figure into
smooth, light pink curves that made him want to sink his teeth deep in so places…

Hell if
that
wasn’t the one thought that led to another.

Longing became craving. Desire became lust. And seduction was sure as fuck going to
become action.

Another rumble started low in his throat, generated from the depths of his gut. He
watched it curl through her too, a proper enough warning for the hand he twisted over
the button on her shorts. After that came free, he made short work of rasping down
the zipper. Brynn sighed and arched against him, widening the V in the denim—and exposing
the lace band of the panties beneath.

It was agony to shift away from her and rock back on his haunches, but years of crouching
in bunkers and sleeping in the dirt made him no stranger to suffering. Those situations
didn’t promise this delicious reward, either.

Soon, man. So soon now…

He snagged her gaze with his before nodding toward her sweet juncture. “I need to
see more. Take them off, sweetheart.”

A fresh look of conflict skated across her face, though never entered her eyes. Those
lush brown depths affirmed the conclusion that rooted stronger in him by the minute.
Given the right guidance with the proper affection, this little fox yearned for domestication
as strongly as any submissive he’d met.

But now wasn’t the time for theorization.

Definitely
not
.

As his blood turned to magma, his stare narrowed to the perfect pink flesh she uncovered.
Before she was done toeing off the shorts, the moisture evaporated from his mouth.
He swallowed hard then uttered lowly, “Damn.”

Brynn’s lips twitched, hinting at hope and insecurity at once. “Dance costumes are
unforgiving. I have to keep things…clean.”

He pushed forward again, stroking fingers up and down her totally bare sex. “There’s
nothing clean about what I want to do with this.”

A little gasp stuttered from her. “So you don’t mind?”

“Mind what? That I can see every gorgeous inch of you? That as I turn you on, every
drop of your juice will be exposed for me? That I’ll know exactly how ready your pussy
is to be filled with my cock?”

She lifted her hands, scratching at his back to bring him closer. Her mouth parted,
all but pleading for a deep kiss, but he gave her only the tip of his tongue, making
her reach up with her own to meet his taunting stabs.

“Ahhhh.” she finally cried. “
Rhett
. I’m—I’m going crazy. Please!”

He pulled back up, indulging a moment of just gazing at her. Holy
fuck
. With her hair splayed on the pillows, her eyes hooded and horny, and her body restlessly
writhing, she was a sight he could have watched for hours. A fantasy he didn’t even
know he had.

A lover who sure as hell didn’t fit into the one-night-fun file anymore.

A challenge to be confronted later.
Much
later. If this woman was going to take him down, body
and
spirit, then he was sure as fuck going to enjoy the ride.

“Please what?” Ribbing her was more than a pleasure. It was like splitting a diamond
open, exposing fascinating new facets of her. As she arched her neck, glaring at him
with a mix of outrage and arousal, he dropped his voice to a whisper. “What do you
want, Brynna Monet? I can deny you nothing, creature of my dreams. Should I caress
you? Taste you?” He looked deeply into her eyes, purposely drawing out a pause. “Fuck
you?”

She wet her lips and gulped. “Is there an ‘all of the above’ box?”

He chuckled. Adorable little fox. He wondered if she’d have answered the same, had
he included everything he wanted on that list. Didn’t matter. He was ready and willing
to give her everything she’d asked for.

“For you, peach, there absolutely is. And oh, look…here’s a pair of perfect tits,
just begging to be first for the fun.”

A quiver claimed her as he tugged her bra straps down to her elbows. He used them
to trap her arms at her sides, thereby exposing her erect tips to his heated gaze.
“They—I—don’t do begging,” she snapped.

Rhett didn’t miss a stroke as he sucked at her right peak. “Oh, sweetheart…yes you
do.” He licked and nipped his way over her skin, set on attending the other nipple,
already standing at full readiness for him. “In this case, times two.”

She wrestled against the straps. “Ohhh, no. We’re not going there, soldier. Your little
figurative freedoms aren’t going to—
ohhhhh
!”

Biting a woman’s nipple had never felt so fucking good.

Her scream was only the beginning. It jolted the air before squeezing his cock, making
her taste all the sweeter as he flattened his tongue against her engorged nipple.
He primed her other tip for the same feast, pinching the stiff red bud between his
thumb and forefinger then twisting just enough to make her shriek again.

“Ahhh!
Bastard
!”

“Oh, peach. Flattery will get you everywhere.”

He scraped his teeth down the side of her breast, cherishing the feel of her flesh
against his mouth. He alternated between long licks and little bites, yearning to
mark her even harder, pledging to take it slow…at least this first time.

First time? You mean the
only
time? Yeah, get that through your goddamn head, asshole—the big one
and
the little one. She may not be a flighty club submissive but she’s also not the kind
of woman who wants to ride off into the kinky sunset with you. She deserves a man
who can give her stable and strong and normal, not a guy who grew up as a transatlantic
chess piece, who learned relationships from magazines and eavesdropping on the flight
attendants’ conversations…

The discomfort of the memories was eclipsed by the magic of Brynn’s thighs.

He moaned while gliding both hands along that flesh, like fine silk stretched over
her solid dancer’s muscles, while tracing his tongue between her ribs and into the
valley of her navel. He stopped there, exhaling hard, forcing control over the cock
now threatening a full revolt if not set free soon. The wet spot on the inside of
his pants only added fuel to that fucking fire.

Dear God, he couldn’t wait to taste her.

Clenching his jaw helped tether his erection, at least for a few more minutes. After
that victory, he dipped his head lower. Pushed her legs wider. Inhaled the rich, heady
ambrosia of her soaked, pouting pussy.

“
Fuck.
”

“Rhett!”

He pressed in with his nose. Took another long breath. “You smell so goddamn good.
Really like peaches…only with a lot of other things added.” He slid his tongue out,
venturing a tentative taste. “So many
good
things…”

Her intimate lips, engorged by arousal, quivered against his mouth. He licked in,
moaning deep as drops of her juice flowed along his tongue. There was no sweeter nectar
in the world. When he looked up to see her neck arched back, her breasts thrust up,
and her hands curled into the pillows, the sampling tasted even better.