by Angel Payne
Like she had a choice in the matter.
“Ohhhh!”
Which, clearly, she did not.
Rebel chuckled as he dug in again, gently teething the flesh along one side of her pussy then the other, before trailing inward with shorter, sharper bites. Brynn’s buttocks clenched, trying to fight the strange combination of stimulation and pain, but the man commanded her to compliance by grabbing her cheeks harder, followed by a reprimanding grunt.
Rhett backed up his friend’s intent, pulling the T-shirt from her eyes so she confronted the rebuke in his eyes. “Hold still, sweetheart.” He twisted his fingertips into her hair.
She blinked, vision distorted by the sudden light. “I’m trying!”
He softly kissed her lips—but then gritted against them, “Not enough.”
“Damn it!”
“Brynna.” He coiled her hair tighter. “Why are you fighting it so much? Fighting us?”
She didn’t know what to say. His query alone tossed up her logic worse than a first-night bartender mixing a perfect Manhattan. His tone, snowdrift gentle, was accompanied by the scorch of his torque on her scalp—a conflict that should’ve been troubling at the least. But it wasn’t. Not at all. In actuality, the confinement made her feel…safe. Even a little…treasured. Which had her sympathizing with the damn bartender all over again.
“I—” Okay, it was a start. But his expectant scowl repeated his message. Not enough. “Because I’m confused,” she finally confessed. And did they have to be taking this up now, with Rebel continuing to nip at her in so many amazing places down there?
Until…he didn’t. And started the biting thing again.
The biting thing.
That was going to be followed by the sucking thing. Then the licking thing.
Which now, didn’t make the biting thing so bad anymore.
Oh God, she was so mixed up.
“Why?” Rhett asked it with his North Sea eyes, roaming them across her face as if the fate of freaking nations awaited in her answer—as Rebel continued to spiral the incredible heat in her sex. This was so unreal, she almost couldn’t believe it was happening.
A new pinch from Rebel’s teeth reminded her that really wasn’t the case.
A new, harder pinch.
“Aaahhhh!” She exploded the air with the scream, but concentrated on controlling her struggles through it. But why? Why the hell was she struggling so much to please them, when she didn’t want all this? When she should’ve been ordering them to cut her down, set her free, and stop digging their teeth into the most tender tissues of her body? Confusion. Yep. That pretty much pegged it. “Be—because he’s hurting me, okay?”
One side of Rhett’s mouth turned up—another “reward” that wasn’t supposed to feel so damn good. “That’s honest,” he praised. “Thank you.”
“And that does not help me.” It was cranky, probably dancing near some Dom line of his, but she didn’t care. Not that he let her know at all, continuing to regard her with Perry Mason calm.
“Because you’re still confused?”
Brilliant deduction, counselor. “Because it’s pain. And pain shouldn’t also feel so—”
“Feel so…what?”
She huffed. Like that was going to get her out of this. Averting her eyes, or even trying to, was out of the question. Rhett vised her chin between two fingers, ensuring she knew that as one really unalterable fact. Demon Viking. Rebel was the man’s evil accomplice, spreading tingles down her whole left leg thanks to his savoring growl against her inner thigh.
“So…good,” she finally rasped.
Rebel gave her another growl. This time, the right leg got some sugar.
Rhett relaxed his hold and widened his grin. It was the opening she’d needed to jerk away but God, did he have to tilt his head into the sunlight that way, firing the rays through the tips of his hair, turning his eyes into azure crystals? She couldn’t look away if Moses himself appeared to part the waters of the lake.
“That was also honest,” he said. “And really stunning, sweetheart.”
His approval, piled on top of his beauty, was the undoing she didn’t want to disguise. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“Now what else?” he urged. “How else does it feel? Tell us about now. What do you feel right now?”
Her lungs filled with a long breath. What did she feel? Okay, so interpreting feelings was what she did for a living—even kinky ones from time to time—but she wasn’t on the clock right now, damn it. Weren’t they all just here for, as the man himself would say in that half-and-half accent, a little snog and shag? An escapist fuck?
She tensed again, resisting the harder push at her composure.
But as Rebel eased his tongue in, soothing his abuse of her clit with soft, wet strokes interspersed with teasing, masterful flicks, her muscles softened. Her defenses dropped. Heat suffused her once more, though the flood was really different than the first. This heat had energy. Urgency.
“It’s warm,” she finally rasped. “Really warm. Like how everything feels after I’ve had a tough rehearsal, only…”
“Better?”
At that moment, Rebel shifted his tongue again…tucking just beneath her hood.
“Yes!” She choked it out as her womb convulsed, and new arousal sluiced through every inch of her sex. “Ohhhh…yes.” Oh, God. Again, he hit the spot that sent shockwaves clear down to her knees. “B-better,” she stammered. “Better.”
“That’s our good girl.” Rhett crooned it before devouring her mouth in a deep, hard kiss. At the same time, Rebel greedily sucked the fresh juices from her trembling tunnel. Her senses spun. Her mind whirled. The only way she recognized “up” was due to the zip tie chain over her head.
How life could change, when all the rules were shattered.
How amazing one body could feel, when all its boundaries were stripped.
And holy hell, they weren’t even done. Her confession revved their attention to new realms of intensity, turning their moans into sounds of savagery, transforming their tongues into living creatures in their own right. Both men licked and sucked and adored her, Rebel at her clit and Rhett at her neck, until the sounds crawling from her own throat were just as harsh, hungry, needy—
Until those moans broke into screams.
In the moments when the duo locked gazes, traded grins, and sank their teeth into her…together.
Moments like now.
“Aaahhhh! Ohhh, shit!”
Rhett’s sensual snarl curled into her ear as he rubbed a thumb across the nipple he’d just pulled taut between his teeth. “Enjoying the ride, peach?”
She forced a hard swallow, wetting her dry throat. “You two are driving me crazy, if that’s what you mean.”
“Hmmm.” Rebel planted a kiss to her mound while lifting a shit-eating smirk. “Yeah. That’s what we mean.”
He gave her no room for a comeback, gliding his lips back down into the tender flesh that now all but screamed for his touch. Perfectly synched, Rhett scooted around and circled her nipples with languorous licks.
Crazy. She suddenly recognized it as a huge misnomer on her part. It fell pitifully short of the tempest they’d really unleashed in her blood, across her skin, inside the deepest corners of her sex. She was debilitated by their bondage, drugged by their lust…but at the same time, never more awake, alert, alive.
No. Not crazy at all.
It was magic. And fire. And need. The furnace in her sex intensified. The flames in her blood turned white-hot. Her body trembled from scalp to soles, tripling the torment of remaining still for them—especially as Rhett cupped both her breasts, pulling out her aching, taut nipples and declaring, “Look at this, Moon. Look how hard you’ve made our little girl’s tits.”
After a heated glance up, followed by a rough, approving groan, Reb stabbed his tongue higher against her sex.
“Ohhhh, God!” she moaned.
“Hell, yes,” Rhett growled. “Give it to her, Mo
on. Fuck her with your tongue, man.”
Rebel didn’t waste a second on hesitation. A small scream, then a bigger one, erupted from Brynna as her walls clamped down on his probing tongue. She wanted more. Needed more. Contracted her pelvic muscles to make her pussy pull him deeper inside. Deeper.
As her knees turned to mush, she sagged. Rhett supported her from behind, one arm around her waist, his other hand sliding forward, gripping her inner thigh.
“Spread wider for him, sweetheart. I want to see the cunt you’re offering my friend. Is it worthy of his kisses? Is it worthy of an orgasm for him?”
“For you.” The words sprang up, feeling so natural, so good—because, she suddenly realized, they came from a place deeper than just the places that throbbed physically for them. “For both of you…Sirs.” She let her head fall back, searching for his gaze with her own. “Please. Yes?”
His generous mouth curled up in a proud smile—lighting that same place in her spirit with its brilliance. He didn’t falter the expression as he directed, “Shove it in deep, Reb. Make her explode.”
He finished it by plunging his tongue into her mouth—coinciding with the first complete stab of Rebel’s tongue. Holy hell. She thought the man had been licking her as deep as possible before, but now conceded that lashing as a warm-up the real assault. His teeth ground into her clit. His lips damn near broke skin on her mound. His nose was so deep, he inhaled nothing but the trembling tissues at the top of her pussy. Rhett didn’t relent, either. Her mouth was prisoner to his, stretched wide by his relentless drive, her sighs tangling with his eager groans.
It was so much. So much. Their scents in her nose. Their tongues in her holes. Their hands on her…everywhere. Yet she craved more. Mewled and moaned for it. Writhed and strained for it. Soaked up every drop of their consuming, conquering desire, reveling in in its power through her veins and its command in her spirit, until her resistance gave way, giving over in ultimate, exquisite surrender.
She came on a tidal wave of blinding heat and thoughtless rapture, her body seizing as her mind left the building completely. The surge turned into a tsunami, consuming the shores of her thoughts, her logic, even her sense of which way was up. She didn’t care. Didn’t feel a damn thing beyond the pulses in her sex, the throbs beneath her breasts, the thorough surrender to the strength and heat of her two incredible lovers, keeping her safe as she drowned, over and over and over again…
Wow.
Fucking…wow.
Rhett kept kissing her, seeming to know she needed the release for returning slowly to herself. It was a blessing and a curse. Huge parts of her longed to pull away as an overwhelming sting burned the backs of her eyes. She could not cry on them; not after she’d been the one declaring she knew what big girl panties were, as well as how to wear them.
After a few seconds to breathe deep and regroup, she was fine—
Until she wasn’t.
The tremors took over every inch of her body, annihilating her from the inside out. Damn, damn, damn. She’d managed not to cry but lost it over everything else in her nervous system: uncontrollable shakes that made no sense at all. She wasn’t even cold. What the hell?
“Shit.” Rebel shot to his feet, yanked the twist ties off the hook then curled her arms against his chest. “Scissors?”
“Roger.” Rhett’s reply overlapped. It took him three seconds to slide the shears in and snip the plastic loose. Rebel braced his legs wider, absorbing her sagging weight in full.
“Brynna,” he reproved. “Ma belle. Why didn’t you tell us about the issue with your circulation?”
She lifted her head, unable to hold back a seductive grin. Buh-bye, irksome shivers. Hello, pirate stud. “What issue?” Oh hell, he was so much better to gaze at from this close, with that stubbled jaw and stressed-out gaze. And God, his chest…despite concealment by the dark T-shirt, it seemed broader, harder, more grip-worthy now than it’d been on the plane, but she hadn’t been able to truly explore him then. Now, that opportunity waited to be grabbed by the proverbial horns—with both hands. In light of how he’d just fondled her, this was damn near her right.
He was so perfect. Truly built like a pirate who’d been hoisting sails and slinging rope. His pecs were like slabs of rock. His tattoo-covered arms visibly rippled beneath her caresses. Best of all, he felt like he’d just walked in from the Caribbean sun. So wonderfully warm…
“Wow.” She couldn’t help blurting it, though managed to dial back the syllable from a roar to a rasp. His circulation was certainly working fine. Her arms finally free, she formed her body tighter against his. Everything else was working just fine, too. Better than fine.
And just like that, another shiver claimed her.
The one that made all the difference in the world.
God, she wanted him. Yes, right now. Yes, stroking at her clit and her pussy, before filling every inch of her clenching channel. And yes…doing the same thing with his cock this time.
“Sweetheart.” Rhett’s admonishment was stricter—not that she had a problem with that. She’d just had his breath in her ear and his cock at her ass, priming her libido for him in about a dozen ways. So yeah, she wanted him, too. With all the same nasty, naked abandon she craved from Rebel.
“You can’t blow this off by feeling Moon up,” he continued. “As nice as that possibility feels, your silence about this isn’t acceptable.”
“To either of us,” Rebel adjoined.
Rhett pulled at her fingertips, holding one of her arms up. “Look at these deep indents from the ties. If you were cinched too tight—”
“Pssshhh.” She yanked her hand back. “I’m the girl who did the research, remember? The one who looked at a lot of pictures while deciding if BDSM was the thing for her?” She rolled her eyes while joining their survey of her wrists. “Calm down, mama hens. I loved every second of that. And the skin’s not even broken.”
The hen line had Rebel jerking back like one, folding his arms and cocking his brows. “You see me laying an egg, cher?” he charged. “No. But I can tell you what I saw. You, shaking like a goddamn feather in the wind.” He stepped back again, practically posing with his puffed chest. “We’re open-minded men. Enlighten us, minette. If that wasn’t a fucking circulation issue, then what—”
“It wasn’t a circulation issue.” She almost regretted the outburst but stood by her words when both of them refused to shuck their inner ogres, unwavering in their growly vigilance. She just wished they’d lean more toward the warty, smelly end of the ogre spectrum, not the hulking, stares-like-pure-sin side. “Unless head-to-toe horny is considered a circulatory thing these days?”
Rebel lowered his arms. Well, there was a shocker. He didn’t vibe overbearing giant all over her any longer. As a matter of fact, he looked…stunned. Rhett’s mien matched.
She’d astonished them?
And at the moment, did it matter? Not when the pause on the air thickened with breaths, hers and theirs, racing each other in new lust. Her stare accepted the heat of theirs, burning it in, fusing it to her senses.
Lust flared between all of them like a Stratocaster plugged to a wall of amps.
Thank God. Maybe now they’d gotten the message. But could they really give her pleasure like that, and not expect she’d want more? Not know she’d crave to give them the same thing in return?
The huge, hard ridges between their thighs gave her hope. Lots and lots of hope.
Now guys, just start thinking with your little heads, okay?
So, there really was a first time for everything in life. She just happened to be experiencing a few in a row today. If fate was really on her side, that list would soon be growing by one more.
Chapter Eleven
‡
WHAT THE HELL was going on in that beautiful brain of hers?
It was the wrong question and Rebel knew it. More accurately, it was just the question that didn’t need to be asked, because it had already answered itself. He knew damn well
what intent ruled her right now—exchanging a glance with Double-Oh confirmed he wasn’t the only one—he just didn’t know how to process the recognition as reality. Doing that meant confronting the actual mystery on his mind.
Was this woman going to be his dream or his destruction?
And at the moment, did the answer matter?
His cock issued a resounding no—and he wasn’t complaining. Damn. She was five and a half feet of everything he could have conjured from a fantasy. The sensual focus of her huge brown eyes. The stiff tips jutting from her dusky areolas. The fresh dew gleaming between her creamy thighs.
Jesus. So perfect.
Maybe she simply was a hallucination…
But when he reached to stroke her shoulder with a knuckle, she didn’t disappear. Her reaction was the exact opposite. So responsive, her flesh pimpling beneath his touch. So open, her full lips parting. Then so real, her voice rasping the air between them, reaching for him like a touch all its own…but zapping his senses as something more. A caress he felt to the core of his being. Electricity. Lust. But more. Needing so much more.
“Issues? Yes, I guess I have a few, Sergeant.” Lifting her chin, she edged closer. Closer. Letting him see her quiver anew as he skimmed his hand down, brushing the pucker of her breast. “And now I am speaking up for help.” She slid her hips in too, rocking her pussy against his hand. Her sparse whisper mingled with the sound. “Help.”
Fuck.
His dream?
His destruction?
Now, the answer felt even more important. She felt important. But why? Why? And what was that…thing…her voice kept triggering in his brain, like a damn bullet she’d shot there, tearing so many things apart as it ripped inside? Painful things. But…significant things, too.
Why did this all feel so damn significant?
And why the fuck was he dwelling on it, when this amazing, naked woman all but climbed him like the tree of life? And Rhett, the glorious asshole, had become her accomplice, cheering her on with hums intending to arouse…
