Mastered By The Mavericks (37 page)

Finally, Rhett murmured, “How
much
hotter?”

Rebel grinned. “You have something special in mind?”

“The bag we brought from Dax’s…the special one on the nightstand. Open it up.”

The moment Rebel complied, his smile widened—before he pulled out the compact leather
spanker atop of the other accessories they’d “borrowed” from what Rhett referred to
as “Dax’s drawer of wonders.”

“Well, well, well,” he crooned, twirling the base of the toy in the palm of his hand.
“My friend Dax has some mighty interesting ’splaining to do, the next time we go bourbon
tasting in the Quarter.”

“No shit.” The light played off the red tints in Rhett’s wagging eyebrows. “Found
that
one in a cabinet near the futon. Quality craftsmanship. Leather’s formed over the
wood real well.” He issued the praise while accepting the paddle from Reb. At once
he rubbed it over their subbie’s ass in rhythmic little circles.

As he lengthened the caresses, Brynna shifted restlessly. Rebel had anticipated as
much. He gazed carefully at her once more, then checked her pulse through her wrist.
He also surveyed the color across the rest of her body. They didn’t have her bound,
but her unusual position made him extra diligent, especially because the woman looked
well and truly on her way to the happy land of subspace. If that happened—and that
was a big
if
, considering the level they were about to take her to—then diligence would have to
be his middle name. Her complete welfare would be in his care. He was used to the
responsibility, of course; every Dom had to be ready for it in any scene…

But never, in his journey into the world of kink, had he been honored by it.

Before now.

“
Minette
?” He brushed fingertips over her cheek. “Are you still able to understand me?”

Her eyes were open but thickly glazed. She blinked at him with surprising focus, though
her lips pressed as if she struggled for words. “Y-yes…Sir.”

Rebel pushed his fingertips in, silently praising, though kept his voice timbered
with authority. She needed his strength more than ever. “Same rules apply now,” he
stated. “No speaking unless spoken to, unless it’s to call for a stop or a slowdown.”
He contemplated giving her a tiered safe word system, even if it was just the basic
green light/yellow light/red light, but even tap-dancing at the subject sparked new
trepidation into her eyes. “No means no,” he told her instead, framing fingers to
the back of her jaw for emphasis. “Is that completely understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” This time, she gave it without hesitation.

“Good girl.” He continued his grip back against her scalp, then tilted her head all
the way back. Her upturned profile almost stole his breath again. He couldn’t resist
dropping his mouth and pressing it to hers, though didn’t delve past her parted lips.
With their breaths still mingled, he directed Rhett, “Start again, Double-Oh. Make
her really red for me.”

Without a word of comeback, Rhett drew back—and whapped her ass with the full force
of the paddle.

Rebel sucked every note of her scream into his mouth.

The next one, too.

And the one after that.

By the time Rhett delivered smack twelve, the outcries stopped—and her quivers began.
Only tiny tremors at first, starting as soon as he pulled the paddle from her flesh,
but grew to full shivers by the time he reached the top of his sweep, ready to crack
the leather back upon her naked flesh. Once the blow connected, her tension was detonated,
broken into splinters of energy through her body, only to be pull back to her core,
repeating the intense sensual cycle.

Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.

Rhett’s spanks intensified.

Brynna’s ass bloomed brighter red.

Rebel’s cock pushed harder at his fly.

Still, he didn’t let her go. Couldn’t. Not when every blow shot that heat harder through
her, flowing out until it seemed to burst through her pores, making him hurt and writhe
and shiver with her—

Then melt. And float. And fly.

“Damn.”

It was barely a whisper but resonated with his shock. Holy
shit
, what was this?

As the sixteenth blow reverberated through her, he couldn’t even manage a voice. She
panted against his mouth, silent but desperate. Her eyes were closed, seeping once
more with magnificent tears.

He needed more.

He rose up, pressing her face against his chest, twining her hair around his fist.
As his heart thundered harder, he looked down over the luscious curve of her body,
her naked ass and thighs still fitted so beautifully against Rhett’s lap.

This couldn’t be real.

It was so good.
Too
good.

It was no exaggeration. He wondered if he was simply living a dream, a “conscious
unconsciousness” of some kind. He was only a few feet off the floor but his senses
soared as if he were a mile high again, viewing the world from a strange advantage.
From that view, he didn’t see three separate bodies in a motel room. They were one
being, bound by desire and elevated by passion, then ensconced in a whole new level
of existence. There wasn’t any past that haunted or future that loomed. No baggage
to drag or labels to apply. No limits to watch or lines to color in…

There was only need and its fulfillment. Energy and its response. Power and its return.

Dominance…and deliverance.

Only why was
he
the one who felt transformed? Why did the dip of her head against his chest make
his mind blast to the moon? Why did her hand, now lifting to his waist, make his dick
lurch anew, the tip moistened with pre-come? Why did his blood sing and his nerves
throb, thudding in anticipation of the last three spanks still left…but completely
dreading them, too?

He wasn’t the one who was supposed to feel this…any of it. He wasn’t the one here
to learn a lesson. He knew all the lessons, damn it. Once upon a time, he’d possessed
hope that BDSM could mean more for him than a hot fuck and a raging orgasm—but “once
upon a time” was for things like fairy tales, not a real-life guy who’d worked his
way out of the swamp, only to travel across the world and slog through more swamps.
These days, D/s was a formatted way for him to keep all the demons happy…the “fun”
little memories that crawled into his head, fed with something as wild and ravenous
as they were. But it would never kill them completely. Nothing ever would.

Or so he’d believed—

Until now.

Brynna’s quivers started again. She panted harder into his chest. Her hand tightened
on him. But her eyes flared with pure erotic light, betraying her own love/hate conflict
about the paddle Rhett hoisted up.

He smiled down at her.

She smiled back up.

And might as well have lobbed a brick along with it.

There wasn’t just light in her eyes anymore. There was understanding. Connection.
Commiseration.
She gets it. Somehow…she just does.

“Fucking perfect.” Rhett’s murmur couldn’t have been better timed—or worded. With
the paddle still aloft in one hand, he swirled over her ass with the other, tracing
the dark pink and red patterns forming one hell of a sensual masterpiece. “Moon is
right. I’ve rarely seen an ass more ideal for this. Look at these colors…all this
beauty.” He rubbed a little harder, making Brynn moan into Reb’s chest. “And just
listen to
that
.”

Rebel dipped his lips to her hairline. “You please us so much.
Je t’adore. Tu est mon petit éclair crémeuse.
”

He almost expected her to giggle at the endearment—and wouldn’t have minded if she
did—but she embodied it instead, sliding closer, silken and soft as cream, her hair
flowing across his nipples. Rebel bit back a hiss. Holy
shit
, that felt good. But right now, he was sure the woman could rise up, bite off his
nose, and he’d thank her for the pleasure.

“
Fuck
.”

No other exclamation seemed to fit, not alongside the epiphany that slammed behind
that vision.

This…craving…to make her happy, fulfilled…

Was this what submission felt like?

Or was it real Domination?

He twisted her hair tighter, pressing her in closer. All of it felt like a Band-Aid
on a chest wound. His.

“What the hell?” he grated. “What the
hell
are you doing to me, Brynna?”

But while he pleaded it into her hair…he angled his gaze directly at the man still
poised with the paddle. Who suddenly let the thing fall backward, onto the bed. Who
then curled forward, also wrapping himself around her, before rasping, “And me. Fuck.
And me, too.”

A shaky whimper unfurled from Brynn. Rebel felt the conflict through her body. He
slackened his hold, letting her turn toward Rhett, damn near encouraging it. Watching
that man’s mouth on her neck and lips, taking in the sure strokes of his hand down
her body, did things to Reb’s system that did nothing to calm the whirl of his confusion.

Right now, he didn’t even want them to.

He let Rhett pull her all the way up, mesmerized with the play of muscle in the man’s
arms while fitting her chest against his, before drawing her in for a wet, hungry
kiss. Rebel rose higher on his knees as Brynn locked her arms around Rhett’s neck,
sighing into him, using her lips in the only way they’d allowed her to communicate.
Rhett answered her with a harsh groan, taking advantage of the chance to tangle hands
in her hair, commanding her head to one side so he could deepen his penetration into
her mouth.

A strange knife of frustration stabbed at Rebel. At once, he recognized the problem.
He couldn’t see enough. Had to watch absolutely everything they did to each other…for
each other. With a couple of impatient jerks, he peeled Brynn’s shirt all the way
off her shoulders. Buttons ripped free as he did, pinging against Rhett’s jaw then
across the room. Reb scooted behind her, anxiously unclasping her bra. Once it was
detached, he had to draw her arms free from Rhett’s neck—

Pushing her wrists together at the bottom of her back.

A dark, savoring snarl escaped. “Dear fuck.” He grabbed her tighter, deciding to use
the bra’s straps to bind her like that. “This has got to be one of the best sights
of my life.” He twisted the straps a few times, arranging the bra so the lacy cups
finally dangled down between her fingers. “You’re more gorgeous than the Taj Mahal,
cher
.”

Rhett added a new growl to the mix—just before hiking one of her legs up and over,
so she fully straddled him now. “How about now?”

Rebel froze. Choked. Finally uttered, “Christ.”

Rhett chuckled. “Not a bad view from here, either.”

Brynn only made everything better with a longing sigh…as her shoulders dropped and
her head bowed. Still, not another word tumbled from her lips. Rhett rewarded her
for the obedience by cupping her face then kissing her again, gentler now, not stopping
until a needy keen vibrated through her throat.

“Goddamn.” Rhett pushed it out between heavy breaths. “So beautiful. Such a perfect
little girl, aren’t you?”

“She is.” Rebel issued the agreement while rising fully to his feet. “But also one
who hasn’t fulfilled her punishment.”

Rhett lifted a rogue’s grin. “So true. And we know how this good little girl wants
to do things right.”

Rebel nodded, enjoying how his new pose kept the guy’s stare engaged. It certainly
wasn’t the first time Rhett had gazed at him with feet braced, legs firm, and torso
high, but it felt fucking great to see the man finally enjoy the sight. Beneath Rhett’s
hot scrutiny, his skin warmed, his nipples turned to rocks, and his cock hardened
to the texture of a dynamite stick. With the same urgency to explode…

“I’m going to do it.” He hoped to relieve at least a little tension with the command,
but no joy on that endeavor. Instead, his dick clamored harder at his jeans, the juice
at the tip soaking through his briefs, starting in on the denim. “Give me the paddle,
Double-Oh. The last three swats are mine.”

Rhett’s smile cracked wider beneath his tawny stubble. He leaned back to retrieve
the paddle. “Won’t this be fun.”

“Stay there,” Rebel ordered.
Fun
. Such an objective word. Oh, they were definitely going to have some…just maybe not
in the conventional sense—or anything that they’d want to submit to Webster’s in the
end. This was one for his personal records, to be remembered and treasured for the
rest of his days. “Now lay back, Rhett. All the way. Take her with you. Keep her safe
for me.”

Rhett’s new growl carried an approving hum. “Well,” he finally murmured, once he and
Brynn were settled into the position Reb had dictated. “Yes,
Sir
.”

Rebel couldn’t help an answering chuckle…though he made sure the sound carried a hum,
as well—a darker sound than Rhett’s emission. “Ah…so eager,” he said with matching
intent. He gazed steadily down at his friend—while pushing Brynn’s thighs wider. That
done, he leaned over them both. “Can I count on that attitude from you…even now?”

He illuminated the point of the question by reaching in, and unzipping Rhett’s fly.

As his friend’s eyes popped wide, he grabbed the throbbing stalk of flesh from inside.

As his friend’s mouth dropped open, he pulled out the hot balls, too.

As his friend groaned and writhed, he stroked that perfect cock to full erection.

“Still eager to please, Sergeant Lange?” His voice was coarse—but he was stunned he
still had a voice. Admiring this dick from afar dimmed vastly from the magic of getting
to touch it himself. To feel the power surging beneath it…

“Fuck!” Rhett’s hands dug into Brynn’s back. Against the edges of Reb’s fingers, his
powerful thighs quaked. “Fuck, Reb. That’s so…damn…
Christ
.”

Rebel rumbled in satisfaction, running his thumb over the slit atop of that pulsing
shaft. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.” He curved a savoring smile, relishing Rhett’s
violent jerks and moans. “Both of you.”