Mastered By The Mavericks (17 page)

But he didn’t just want to sample.

Wrapping his hands around her legs, he angled deeper into her core. Drank from her
openly, savoring her pulse beneath him, her folds around his tongue, her desire totally
at his mercy. She let out a high moan as he widened his mouth, lunging then retreating,
sucking then laving, always teasing the slick membranes that led to her body’s most
secret sanctuary. As badly as his cock begged for its time there, he wasn’t going
to rush any moment of taking her this high. And higher still…

“Rhett!” It was pitched high with need, finished off on a frantic gasp. “Oh…
damn
…I’m—I’m going to—I won’t be able to stop…”

A perfect segue to the moment that he did.

“No!” she yelped again. “Oh, no! What I meant was—”

“Oh, I know what you meant, peach.” He leaned back, enduring the cock-to-fly persecution
again, praying that Blake was half the slapper the press said he was, and liked hanging
with the ladies when he was here. If that was the case, there was a good chance the
man kept a stash of rubbers—

Yessss.

Sometimes, the treasure really was right where expected. There in the nightstand drawer,
neatly layered in one section of an organizational tray, were the square packets he
sought. The other compartments of the organizer held a tube of water-based lube, a
pink anal plug imprinted with
Just For Her
, a long-tubed vibrator, and a sizable cock ring.

Well, hell. Forget the notorious playboy. Dax Blake was a man after his own heart.

A sexy-as-fuck whimper trickled from Brynna as he withdrew one of the condoms. “Oh,
thank God,” she blurted, closing her legs a little and gyrating her hips a lot. “Hurry.
Please!”

Imagine that. It was the very thought ruling his brain—until she started her little
bump-and-grind with the mattress. With his zipper only halfway down, Rhett stopped.
Nailed her with the stare he saved for subbies trying to pull brat moves with him.
She wasn’t anywhere near a brat, but she also wasn’t getting away with
that
sneaky shit.

“You want
me
to hurry, or are you interested in doing the job yourself?”

She froze, too. For a second. “You’re the one who left me like this!”

He felt a brow arch. Half a grin inch up. “I haven’t gone anywhere, peach.”

She huffed. “Really? Are you doing semantics
now
? Can we dither
later
? Please?”

The other side of his smile formed. Ohhhh, he just couldn’t help it—nor the words
that flowed out, easy as the birds that glided over the lake outside. “Little peach
pie, are you
begging
me?”

He braced for her profanity. Probably another huff, reinforced with a tormented girl
growl.

Instead…she laughed.

It wasn’t a huge sound, or necessarily a pleased one—but the pure honesty of the sound
was like nothing he’d ever witnessed, nor would soon forget. Against his better judgment,
he felt his smirk widen. Joining her humor, letting her know how easily she could
get under his skin, was against every Dom code that had to exist. But that was freeing,
too. He didn’t expect anything the perfect little subbie thing from her, meaning she
didn’t expect the flawless big-bad-Dom from him.

Her husky retort was the perfect break-in to his thoughts. “Well, I won’t tell anybody
the begging thing happened if you don’t. How’s that?”

He went ahead and added a laugh. Dear fuck, was she really this cheeky little negotiating
machine all the time? He wagered the answer was yes—in which case, it became clear
how she and Dan Colton, Sir Dark and Dirty the First, were doomed from the start.

Bad news for Colton.

Even worse news for Rhett Lange.

He was a goddamn sucker for sassy negotiators—especially this one. By proposing her
little deal, she challenged his brain. By challenging his brain, she revved his imagination.
And God help the woman who cranked the throttle on his imagination.

“Deal,” he told her, prowling back down the bed.
Enjoy the reprieve, foxy
. As he positioned himself near her feet, he deftly added, “As long as you do it again
for me.”

Her smile faded. “Do…what again?”

He didn’t answer until flattening his hands to the insides of her knees—and again
spreading them wide.

“Beg.”

He didn’t stop there. With fingers skimming the insides of her legs, he moved back
between them like human liquid, rolling his shoulders with every new inch covered,
flooding her in his unmistakable intent. Giggles aside, she was going to come hard
for him. That meant letting him tease at the door of her submissiveness. Just a few
light taps…in all the right places…

“I—I’m not comfortable—” She interrupted herself with a hiss, as he closed both thumbs
over her pussy. “I told you, I can’t just be ordered to do it—”

“Not an order.” He paused when reaching the outer edges of her feminine triangle.
“Only a suggested clause in our negotiation. Isn’t that how negotiations work? I give
something, you give something.”

At first her reply was just shallow, sharp breaths. They intensified, quivering through
her whole body, as Rhett pressed in a little more. The action pushed her intimate
lips together, indirectly stroking her clit in the process. “Oh!” she finally exclaimed.
“God! Oh!”

“Hmmm.” He pressed in one more time before dragging his fingers away, scraping toward
her stomach. “Nice try but my name’s Rhett, sweetheart.”

Her legs fell open a little wider. Such a guileless move…she had no damn idea what
kind of heaven
and
hell she opened for him, exposing more of her perfect paradise to his hungry stare.
He wondered if she still tasted like creamed honey.
Idiot
; of course she did. What he longed to know now was the perfection of her tight sheath
around his cock, taking him deeper with every thrust, until they detonated together.

But not until she gave up her end of the deal.

Not happening. Not yet. Though a stressed sheen coated her face and her muscles visibly
shook, her lips thinned and her jaw jutted, hanging on to her defiance.

Rhett wavered between cursing and grinning. Her boldness was a thrill ride he hadn’t
experienced in years. On the other hand, the shit might just be his undoing. At least
he’d enjoy the crap out of the descent.

He chose the grin. It grew, slow and subtle, as he rose higher over her, positioning
his thighs between hers—opening his pants enough that she felt the wet cotton of his
briefs and the hump of the shaft beneath.

They hissed in unison. He finished his in a rough rasp. “You feel that, sweet peach?
That’s my cock, wanting you. Needing to be inside your beautiful cunt. Craving to
fuck you, fulfill you…”

Her eyes flashed open. Her lips parted, abandoning her resistant scowl. “Yes…”

Gone was his grin, as well. How could he concentrate on his goddamn face, when hers
was one of the most captivating sights he’d ever beheld? He’d been lucky to see many
world treasures in his travels across the globe, and now one more—this moment with
her endless eyes, yearning lips, and shimmering skin—was added to his list.

“Not exactly the words I was hoping for, sweetheart.”

A heartbeat of silence. Followed by the next, exploding with her growl. “Aggghhh!”

He cocked his head. Arched a brow. “Nope. Still not right.”

“Are you freaking kidding—”

A tight moan eclipsed the words, as he again slid his throbbing length along her pussy.

“Beg, Brynna.”

“Screw you.”

That’s the idea, little fox.

No need to state the obvious. He’d just show her.

Two shoves sent his pants and briefs to his thighs. With equal thrift, he tore open
the condom packet, then rolled the latex over his crown and down his shaft. There’d
be no need to add any of Dax’s quality lube to this picture. Every layer between Brynn’s
thighs was shiny with the dew of her arousal, jerking his erection tighter every time
he stared at that perfect pink bloom.

Like now.

With teeth clenched against the pressure that now consumed every thought in his head
and beat of his heart, he eased just his tip into her folds. Instant heat. Perfect
tremors. Soft temptation. Fuck.
Fuck.

The same word exploded off her lips. Rhett angled in, capturing the syllable with
a wet but fast kiss. She sounded just as delectable with the breathy follow-up. “Shit.
Shit
! Ohhhh!”

He ground off another layer of tooth enamel but managed a controlled reply. “It’s
yours, peach pie. Just ask for it.”

Her head kicked back again. She scratched up his spine, burning his skin with the
tracks. “Oh my God. It feels so good!”

He teethed the side of her neck. “Still not right.”

“Damn it!”

“Beg.”

She bit fully into his. “Give it to me.”

“
Beg
.”

He pushed in by another fraction. Managed—barely—to keep his groan contained. Sweet
fuck
, he never thought he’d be battling his own lust like this. His body seemed a foreign
thing, a gleeful executioner set on killing him in the most excruciating way possible.
His balls screamed. His thighs shook. But he wasn’t so far-gone not to notice how
his control, of himself
and
her, was taking her pussy from a simmer of arousal to an oven of need. Beneath her
riotous glare, she was relishing this as much as him.

“Damn!” Her legs hiked up, gripping his waist. “Oh,
damn
!”

He teased his cock into her by half an inch more. “Just one word, sweetheart. Give
it to me.”

She gritted out a gasp. One more. Then finally cried, “Please.
Please
. Does that make you happy, damn it?
Please,
Rhett. I need it—now. I need
you
.”

He tilted his head in, releasing a grateful growl against her ear. “Oh, my little
peach.”
Not nearly as much as I need you
.

One slide, and his sex was buried completely inside hers.

One sigh, and she clenched him even tighter.

One moment—that wrenched them both from passion to oblivion.

Hands greedy and urgent. Mouths open and hungry. Muscles straining and seeking.

Instincts commanding.

Gazes twining.

Spirits joining.

“Oh…God.” Brynna’s face distorted, as if his cock had turned into a spear. The clench
of her sex told him that was far from the case. That her wince was more the protest
of her psyche, reached as it never had been before. And how was he so damn sure? Could’ve
had something to do with the mirrors he now beheld in her eyes, reflecting only one
thing back at him.

His own soul.

He’d experienced mortar attacks that were less unnerving than the recognition. It
damn near terrified him, as he watched her head twisting back, struggling to hide
her face in the pillows.

“
No
.” He followed the harsh husk by hurling the cushion across the room. Just as fiercely,
he yanked her face back toward him. “Now
I’m
begging.” He plunged deeper, driving to mark as much of her inside as well as out.
“Don’t look away. Stay with me, Brynna. Take all this from me, as deeply as you take
my cock. See how beautiful you are to me. See everything you do to me.”

She didn’t utter a word. She didn’t have to. She simply reached out as he had, framing
the side of his face too…his mirror.

And she obeyed him. Beautifully. Oh, God…so perfectly.

She barely blinked as he lunged harder, filling more of her, fucking until the slaps
of their bodies resonated against the walls. Rhett watched her just as intently, taking
in the rhythm of her breaths, the little furrows beneath her eyebrows, the hardness
of her nipples—

Until he knew it was time.

One dip of his hand against the very center of her pussy. One more.

On the third, she was completely his.

“Holy—
Rhett
!”

He let his senses drown in her scream. Let his cock rejoice in her climax. Finally
surrendered to the whorl of his own lust.

The world turned to fuzz. His balls surged with heat. His vision turned blinding white
as the climax roared through his dick. He came in bursting torrents, each yanking
him deeper beneath the undertow. He wondered if standing upright would even be possible
in a few minutes…making him realize he didn’t even care.

Sure enough, the sentiment became prophecy.

Aside from a reluctant pull from her body then a lunge to lob the condom at the waste
can, he was
not
interested in moving from this bed—or anywhere less than a few inches from this woman’s
delectable nudity. He leaned his head on an elbow while wrapping an arm over her waist,
letting his thoughts stay just as tangled. There would be more than enough time to
yank the shit apart later…to berate himself for once again pouring too much of himself
into a “relationship” that was nothing more than an episode of fantastic sex.

And damn…

It had been
fantastic
.

Couldn’t be any harm in addressing the obvious. “I’m wondering how a guy expresses
thanks to the power of a million.”

Her kiss-stung lips inched up. “Damn it. You stole my line.”

He chuckled. She giggled. After a moment, he sobered. Brynn followed suit again. “What?”
she prompted, eyes narrowing.

He shook his head. Cocked another smirk. “Nothing. It just feels good to hear you
laughing.”

“Why?”

“Truth? I was a little worried about an elephant in the room. A big, black-haired
Cajun one.”

He wasn’t sure how she’d react to that. The way she firmed her face, along with tucking
a pillow to raise herself a little closer to him, was encouraging. “I’m a grown woman,
Rhett. I harbored no illusions about what Rebel and I shared during the plane ride
this morning—or what
this
was, between you and I.” Her lips quirked. “Let’s face it. You’re both damn delicious
heroes, and my weakness for military sugar is legendary. All circumstances considered,
my willpower is zilch right now. Zoe herself would tell me I’m allowed a stress-induced
cheat day, especially with two such cooperative…treats.”