Mastered By The Mavericks (39 page)

“Oh, God!” Brynn cried.

“Oh,
yeah
.” Rebel growled. “God
damn
, Rhett. You’re…big.”

Brynn spurted an adorable chuff. “No shit.”

Rhett grinned, though a sound curled up his throat that was feral, fierce, and savoring.
“So deep. Oh little girl, you’re taking both of us so damn deep.”

“
Trés bien, ma chatte. Merci…merci.
”

“Yeah. What he said. That’s pretty damn…
fuck
.”

Rebel’s chuckle tickled Brynn’s nape. “So, is that the head of your dick, Lange, or
are you just happy to see me?”

“Is this your pervy attempt at a hand job, Stafford, or are
you
just happy to see
me
?”

“I’m always happy to see you.”

Suddenly, there wasn’t a note of sarcasm in the man’s tone. Gone, too, was the easy
sexuality Rebel always seemed to have at the tip of his fingers and the surface of
his thoughts. Oh, there
was
that edge to the words; it just wasn’t easy this time…a truth displayed in every
stark angle of Rebel’s profile, as he sank in tighter over Brynn…tighter still…

And clutched Rhett’s jaw again.

And sealed their mouths in a burst of inescapable passion.

As he pushed open the entrance to her ass a little wider…making room for the conquest
of his cock.

If her screams had shaken the walls before, they threatened the foundations of the
ceiling now. Like she cared. Oh, it hurt. Rebel wasn’t a small man, nor was his erection.
As he inched in a little more, she cried out even louder—

Only to have the sound yanked again from her mouth.

In a way that startled her so much, she temporarily forgot about the incursion in
her ass.

It wasn’t Rebel’s mouth that absorbed her scream. Nor was it Rhett’s. Instead of stopping
their kiss to get her through the pain, they simply shifted it…expanded it. They invited
her into their passion…and shared every incredible drop of it with her. Her lips were
devoured by two mouths, not one. Inside those mouths were tongues that demanded everything
from her. They danced and coaxed. Sucked and commanded. Moaned and growled. In return,
she mewled, whimpered, and screamed, abandoning all restraint, embracing every hot,
incredible moment.

They stuffed her, filled her, overwhelmed her—and it definitely wasn’t the only place.
Both their cocks were embedded deep, taking her completely in their pleasure…and pleasure
it certainly was, if their passionate grunts and deep groans could be interpreted
right. If Rebel’s aim was punishment, this was definitely it. Rhett’s girth alone
was a lot for her pussy to handle; the added pressure of Rebel’s cock in her ass was
assurance that she’d think twice before skipping off on the two of them again.

There’s not going to be an “again”.

The thought slammed her like such a huge locomotive, all her discomfort was suddenly
a small pea beneath a huge mattress. She wouldn’t ever know this again? Be with them
like this again? Wouldn’t ever fly with the spiritual freedom only they’d been able
to give her?

The tears tumbled before she could even check them. As soon as the guys detected the
wetness, they slowed their thrusts and pulled back their mouths.

“Little peach.” Rhett tightened his grip on her hip. “What is it? Too much? Do you
need us to stop?”

His concern shattered her inner dams even more. She sobbed, watching her tears rain
on his face, adoring him for simply letting them. “Y-yes,” she stammered. “It
is
too much. But if either of you stop, I’ll find both your Bosse Jacks and slice off
your nipples with them.”

“Holy shit.” Rhett chuckled. “I’ve just met my dream woman.”

“Copied and echoed.” Rebel’s cock swelled against the walls inside her ass. “Talk
about knives like that some more,
cher,
and I may just build an altar to your name in Jackson Square.”

She jabbed a glare over her shoulder. “Respectfully speaking, Sir, are you going to
talk or fuck?”

“Just in case you’re confused, Moon, the answer is B.”

Rebel dipped his face again, his grin sensual and his eyes soft. “Thanks for the enlightenment.”

The next moment, he was gone. All right, not gone—but shifted. Brynn moaned as he
rose up, scraping both hands down her back as he went, until he was nearly upright
behind her. She battled not to think about how illicit the whole movement felt, with
his denim-covered hips abrading the insides of her thighs, but the effort was as useless
as a rowboat against his massive pirate ship.

He re-secured his hold atop the two hills of her ass, digging his thumbs into the
flesh next to the entrance he filled, spreading her even wider. He capped the action
with a grizzly-dark groan.

“
Mon dieu, minette
. This is good. So fucking good. Hang on, now. We’re almost there.”

Almost
there?

Before she could process the shock, Rebel sank all the way into her ass.

Pain. Pressure. Heat.

Fullness. Sinfulness. Nakedness.

Acquiescence. Acceptance. Surrender.

So many sensations layered on each other, like fine silks blowing in a gale wind,
elusive and uncatchable. The gale wind of Rebel…grounded by the solid mountain that
was Rhett. His body was like granite, his cock like the tree she held in the storm,
keeping her safe so she could reach and embrace every electric particle brought by
the wind too. She could fly without falling. Jump without shattering.

Fall apart…in the arms of the men she completely trusted.

Rhett, seeming to read that thought, beamed a smile that honored the Viking gods from
whom he’d surely descended. “Oh, little girl. You’re so close, aren’t you? So fucking
close. It’s written in every one of those stars in your eyes.”

His appraisal coerced Rebel to lower again. By now, he drove his cock in and out as
feverishly as Rhett. His body was sweat-slicked, his breaths heavy sluices against
her neck. It all only added to the erotic spell he wove with every brutal thrust.
So deep
. He was so deep inside the forbidden realms of her body.

“You’ve taken your punishment well, darling
fille
. Now it’s time to accept your reward.” He bit into the space just behind her ear.
“Come for us, Brynna Cosette. Come for us hard.”

She wanted to. Oh God, she wanted to climax for them more than taking her next damn
breath…

But no.

“Not yet.” She looked again over her shoulder at the pirate. Just as quickly, she
swung her stare back to the Viking. Because they both already locked on her, their
gazes naturally tracked to each other. A sweaty smile broke out across her face but
she said nothing else, desperately hoping they’d connect the dots from there.

Rhett mirrored her grin first.

Just before Rebel erased it from his face by plunging in, fusing their mouths together.

“Ohhhh, yes.” She sighed. “You
did
get it.”

“So did you.” It spilled from Rhett on a growl as he ramped his thrusts into her pussy.
“That really made you wetter, didn’t it?”

For a long moment, his treatment made it impossible to speak. “Yes…Sir,” she finally
got out. “Oh, God. That’s
so
good…Sir!”

Rebel added another animalistic sound. The gritty snarl vibrated along the top of
her shoulder. “Somebody has a very naughty cunt. And an even naughtier ass. And likes
to have them filled by two dirty Doms with hard, pounding cocks.”

“Who adore her so much, they’ll even make out for her.”

“Oh yeah.” Rebel dropped in again, though not all the way. His tongue snaked out,
laving along Rhett’s bottom lip. “There’s that.”

A new energy flashed between the men. Rhett’s eyes glowed, silver lights against the
deep blue, as if Rebel had beckoned him to an arm wrestling match instead of another
kiss. The competitive spark was sure as hell unexpected—or was it? And did Brynn really
care? Her body was the willing recipient of the fringe bennies, fucked with greater
vigor by the dueling owners of both those beautiful cocks.

Rhett lifted his head off the mattress, biting out at Rebel. “Come on.
Come on
.” But when Rebel lowered, he still played coy, dodging his tongue, nipping at Reb’s
chin. Watching their sensual sparring had Brynn panting hard, whimpering in need.

“Take him.” She blurted it, not sure if her intent was a plea or a command—as if it
really mattered. Her body throbbed so desperately. Her clit pulsed so fast. “So close,”
she whispered. “So…close. Pussy…needs to…just take him.
Take him
.”

Rebel stabbed her with eyes full of pure cobalt sex.

While ramming his tongue down Rhett’s throat.

And growling deep as she screamed out, blasted by the explosion of her orgasm.

The shockwaves went on, wave after wave of heat and bliss, tearing her apart before
bringing her back to herself, only to sweep her back into a sea of fire and fury from
which she never wanted to be rescued. That was all before Rhett and Reb started pumping
harder, faster, longer, transforming from wind and mountain into hurricane and earthquake,
groans layering as their climaxes struck damn near in tandem.

It was one of the most incredible moments of her life.

Followed by one of the most devastating.

How would they move on from this? How would
she
? How would she get up from this bed, cover herself, and even step outside the door
again, when everything in her soul was still stripped naked, exposed as never before?

And why did she never want to cover it back up again?

So much that she’d never dreamed of or hoped for.

So much of exactly what she’d feared.

Ecstasy. Vulnerability. Pain. Pleasure.

Weakness.

The guys fell into equally thick silence. She could almost hear the thoughts in their
heads, hopping on the same dismal track as hers. This was all never meant to be more
than simple stress relief, enjoyed by three mature adults who needed the shit in light
of the grim circumstances that had brought them together.

But something happened on the way to rescuing Zoe. Now, Brynna wondered if
she
needed the liberation—only from what, she still didn’t know or understand. And wasn’t
sure she wanted to.

It was a disgusting, confusing tangle—in a love life that seemed doomed to possess
them. And like the idiot she always was, she kept attacking the thing with an emotional
comb, hoping that if she looked at it from another angle or tore into it with more
resolve, the strands would work themselves out.

Because
that
had worked before?

She pushed out a determined breath. This was different.
They
were different. Still pressed between their huge bodies, feeling the cadence of their
hearts and warmth of their embraces, she was certain of it in every cell of her body—and
was damn sure they were, too.

Right. Okay. So the three of you will live happily ever after now? Maybe buy some
cute little Craftsman in the Seattle suburbs, settle down into your routine jobs and
enjoy your routine life? The showgirl, the bomb guy, and the top-level security specialist,
just one big happy, normal family
?

“Sweetheart?” Rhett’s murmur made her painfully aware of the tiny sob she’d let out,
despite battling otherwise. “You okay?”

“Fine.” It was too hasty to fool either of them, but she gritted a smile at their
scowls anyway. “I’m…better than fine. God, that was…”

“Yeah.” Rhett didn’t bother with the phony ease. “Yeah, it was.”

Silence crawled between the three of them again. It wouldn’t last long. She waited,
along with Rhett, for the filthy Cajun one-liner that would snap them all back to
normal, at least for a little while.

Wasn’t happening.

Instead, without a word, Rebel carefully slipped out of her then disposed of his condom.
As Rhett did the same, Reb walked to the little vanity in the corner and dampened
a washcloth. He returned bearing that, along with a larger towel off the rack. Nodded
toward the center of the bed. “
Reste là, s’il vous plait, minette
.”

It wasn’t a command but resonated with so much solemnity, she obeyed it like one.
After scooting in obedience, she watched him walk back over and lower to one side
of the bed. Rhett circled around and positioned himself on the other side. He looked
on as Rebel dipped a soft kiss to her lips.

“What a gift you are, Brynna Monet.” He gently ran the damp cloth between her legs
and over her thighs, which were still coated in the sweat all three of them had shed.
“
Merci, ma belle
.”

She attempted a flippant laugh. The formality of his tone, teamed with the intimacy
of his care, was like psychoanalyzing a priest and a hooker at the same time. Maybe
humor would diffuse the discomfort. “It
was
a team effort.”

She didn’t expect huge guffaws—but nor did she anticipate them looking like she’d
just talked referenced crawling over glass instead of three mind-on-the-moon orgasms.
Of course, glass seemed to be in abundance already—since the two of them also erected
an invisible pane of it between themselves. They damn near pretended they didn’t know
each other, much less had been devouring each other’s tongues fifteen minutes ago.

Not. Acceptable.

Even if the three of them would never be a possibility, at least
they
could continue on with each other—or try to. The strength they gave each other, and
the connection they shared…it was good; damn good—too rare and awesome to be ignored,
even for a day. As early as next week, they could be airlifted to a battle zone from
which one or both of them would never return…

There
was a heartening thought for the moment.

“So…you’re all for the team effort now, huh?”

She shot her narrowed stare toward Rhett. “You still want to make cracks about that,
Sir
? I’ve got a throbbing ass that states I’ve just learned my lesson about that point.
Can we move on?”