Mastered By The Mavericks

by Angel Payne

  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.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” Brynn smiled softly.

  “Fuck you, Sir.” Rhett gritted his teeth, clearly battling the urge to blow into the cage of Rebel’s fingers.

  “You’re getting the right idea, man. Kind of.” By the time Rhett’s brows leapt in curiosity, Rebel had reached into the magic toy bag on the nightstand, quickly locating one of the packets of latex fun. With economy that came from tons of practice, he had the rubber out and ready in about ten seconds. But he deliberately slowed down for the next phase of the plan, teasing the sheath over the tip of the man’s broad shaft.

  “Damn,” Rhett gritted. “Damn, even that’s good.”

  “Looks good too, brother.” As he stroked two fingers over the veins of Rhett’s hardness, he slipped his other hand between Brynn’s buttocks…and parted the intimate lips at her core. “It’s going to look even better when it’s driving into this girl’s sweet cunt.”

  Brynn voiced her version of an approval to that plan. As her high-pitched sigh stabbed the air, the walls of her tunnel clamped over his fingers. Fuck. That was so good. He might be the perv getting the nastiest floor show in town today, but Rhett was the lucky sonofabitch starring in the performance. This hot, tight sheath was going to give his dick one hell of a fine workout…

  “Fuuuuuck.”

  Rhett’s groan, hoarse and guttural, emanated from the throat that strained as his head rocked back—and his cock pushed the limits of the condom. Rebel marveled at the feel of it, running his hand over the taut latex, while silently ordering Rhett to stay in place by gripping his balls with the other hand. Took his time about the torment too, rolling the cream he’d collected from Brynn’s pussy over the sacs that throbbed and jerked, aching to punch that magnificent dick deep into her body.

  Finally, he let go. The moment he did, Rhett let out a longer groan—then worked his shaft to the cleft Reb had prepared so perfectly. “Ride me, sweetheart.” The harsh, almost hurting growl rasped the air. “Ride my cock hard.”

  Brynn’s cry twisted with Rhett’s groan as he slammed her body down over his.

  It was one of the best fucks Rebel had ever witnessed.

  He didn’t want to think about the true significance of that statement. So he didn’t. He focused on the pure perfection of the moment in front of him: the two bodies blended in a dance so perfect and right, not even live music could’ve made the scene better. Peach skin against alabaster muscle. Smooth nectar against sculpted brawn. Soft submission wrapped by dominant power. An energy so pure and perfect and right, it almost pained him to think of interrupting—

  Almost.

  As he stepped back in, he reached for the sight that drew him the strongest: the paths of pink bruises along the fleshiest planes of her delectable ass. He didn’t even clutch her roughly at first, simply held out a hand and basked in the force of Rhett’s thrusts throughout her body, but soon, the craving to caress called too strongly. To rub in deeper, searching for the heat that still danced across her skin, exploring the welts Rhett had formed with his harder smacks.

  When he brushed those, she shrieked the loudest. “Perfect,” he murmured in response, even dipping his lips to kiss a few of the raised, hot ridges. “Fucking perfect.” He scooped up the paddle from where Rhett had left it on the coverlet. “I’m going to add three more to your collection now, minette.”

  He doubted Brynn was aware of how her wobbly little sigh acted as a giant honeycomb of temptation to the lusty black bear prowling his bloodstream. Rhett only concurred with a short grunt instead of a full growl, but he planted his thighs a little farther and began pumping his cock harder, giving full rein to the beast stalking his instincts, too.

  It was an incredible view—but Reb couldn’t wait to add the imprint from his own discipline to the mix. He twirled the paddle in his hand a few times, testing the weight of the wood and the breadth of the handle, before swirling the blade across her ass, assessing how sensitive she possibly was after fifteen blows from Rhett already. As he expected, she flinched a little. As he also expected, Rhett was giving her a damn fine distraction with every masterful lunge into her weeping pussy. Every time his balls smacked her body, a tiny, high cry escaped her. Reb caught glimpses of her breasts too: still tight and erect, evoking the damn watering mouth again.

  It was so time to do this.

  And he did.

  Whomp.

  She screamed once more. Rhett, dedicated to keeping her physically balanced while continuing to screw her hard, didn’t think of absorbing the sound in the same way Rebel had. That freed her outburst in full on the air, flying through the room like a soprano’s aria, piercing and heartbreaking and agonized—and soaring and stunning and transforming.

  Rebel swayed, rocked to his core. The sound filled his marrow, fired his muscles, turned even the hairs down his arms and legs into a strands of electricity. It scorched him. Terrified him.

  And fuck, he wanted more.

  He sucked the feeling in, yearning to hoard its magnificence while damn near sure it would splinter him apart. Somehow, he balled up the energy enough to funnel it down his arm, into the fist still wrapped around the paddle—

  Then swinging down with all the force of that passion.

  Whack.

  “Ohhhh my God!”

  Music, inundating his soul.

  Power, infusing his spirit.

  Submission, slamming his cock.

  “Fuck,” he rasped.

  “Fuck!” Rhett growled. His balls turned a deeper red, flooded with the pressure of new blood. “Beautiful. Little. Peach. So tight…so good.” His fingers clawed down her back, digging in as if intending to rip her open. With every new swipe her head rocked to the side, and a keen of desire spilled off her lips.

  Rebel spread his free hand along her delectable ass cheeks, ensuring the heat from his blows remained memorable in her skin. “Pain is a trés belle look for her.”

  Rhett curled his fingers into the ends of her hair, forcing her head back. “Couldn’t agree more.”

  “Of course you couldn’t.” He was waiting, arrogant smirk in place, when Rhett cocked his head out for a what-the-fuck glance. A little reminder, silently delivered. We’re not done—which means I’m still very much in charge.

  Brynn added her own contribution to the exchange: a sigh that conveyed desperate need with exquisite pitch. The sound stuck Rebel in his most visceral centers, thundering through his heart, pounding up his cock. Thank fuck Rhett had kept his head out a moment longer, allowing him to catch his friend’s in-the-same-boat-buddy stare.

  Holy God. They were both in trouble.

  A thought he couldn’t explore any deeper right now—not when she drew him closer, compelling his senses like the magic of a symphony, violins and horns and flutes replaced by the concerto of her breaths, sighs, and cries, until he was a creature enraptured—

  And convinced the final stroke of her punishment had to be something just as special. Something imprinted on the inside of her body as well as outside…

  He t
ossed the paddle to the floor. At the same time, stepped the other way, toward the nightstand—as he made short of releasing his erection from his jeans. Once he got to the toy bag, he pulled out two items. The first, a repeat of the little package he’d retrieved for Rhett, got quickly yanked open and used. His dick jerked in protest as he stretched the condom on. With a determined grunt, he secured it down to his balls, then squeezed both in order to keep his lust in control.

  With his libido tamed, at least for now, he turned his attention to the second item. One push of his thumb popped the lid on the water-based lube. A drop of the shiny liquid burst out, as if voicing its eagerness to get on with the wicked plan at hand.

  Brynn didn’t make anything easier with a new little sound, an inquisitive cry that had her wriggling against Rhett—and proving that as stunning as her bondage was, it wouldn’t serve cohesively for what Reb intended to do to her next.

  Reluctantly, he loosened the bra straps from her wrists. Not so reluctantly, he pressed himself over her, his chest formed to her back as he rubbed the slight abrasions to her shell-colored skin, then meshed his fingers between hers. It gave him the ideal angle for suckling into her ear, before whispering, “Something remarkable for your final punishment, little one. Oui?” He slid his hands back up her arms, fanning them in and across her breasts, before raking them back down to re-clasp their fingers. “You feel this? Is this good?”

  She smiled so hugely, he felt it against his jaw. “Y-yes, Sir.”

  “Good. Because this is how I’m going to hold you when my cock’s buried in your ass.”

  Her smile dropped as her hips bucked.

  She stilled upon discovering the movement only pushed her globes higher against his erection. Too little, too late. Rebel’s shaft fell deeper into the cleft of her ass, meaning she only squeezed him tighter while making the correction. He didn’t hold back an appreciative groan, letting the sound fill her ear, gripping her hands tighter, grinding his hips harder.

  Beneath him, she shivered from top to bottom. A sound unfurled from her, half aroused whimper but half frightened moan, that tugged to the core of Reb’s balls. Wasn’t too far off the mark for Rhett either, gauging by the guy’s quivering thighs.

  “Sir?” she finally squeaked. “I—I’m not sure that I can—”

  “Oh, yeah.” Rhett beat him to the interruption. “You can, sweetheart. And you will.” He tugged her head down, locking his gaze into hers. “For us.”

  “With us.” Fewer words had felt more the right thing at the right time—especially as Rebel slipped a hand free and lowered it to Rhett’s jaw. He fanned fingers along those bold lines, showing Rhett that the communication, connection, and friendship they’d always had was still here, right now, only deeper. Better. And nothing to be afraid of.

  A message they both needed.

  Especially as he brought the lube inward, and began to work it into the valley of Brynna’s buttocks. A little more, warming the liquid as he glided it deeper in, seeking the puckered hole of her most forbidden entrance…

  “Ohhhh!”

  “Ssshhhh, petite. Breathe. Now again. Relax.”

  “I can’t—”

  “You will.” He emphasized the order by turning his head, gently sinking his teeth into her ear. “You’re still being punished—and this is how it pleases me to administer the last strike of your discipline. We’ll get there minette, I promise you. I’ll be fucking this ass soon…and you’ll be thanking me for it.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‡

  BRYNNA BARELY HELD herself back from spewing a sarcastic laugh at the man. Correction: the bastard who’d become all ruthless pirate, poised there with his lube and his fingers and his invasion into her body like she didn’t already have the world’s hugest cock already stretching her to the fullest, making her unsure whether she wanted to scream in ultimate pleasure, bawl in ultimate pain—or both.

  And damn it, there was the rub. Literally as well as figuratively.

  Pain is a trés belle look for her.

  Did the damn pirate have to be so right?

  Fine. She felt trés belle, all right? But that wasn’t all of it. Not nearly. The pain…it had become…a release. A tangible, logical reason to her to feel things like insecurity, fear, and trepidation—that allowed all her illogical reasons to tag along for the ride. For the first time in over a year, she had permission to feel…everything.

  And she did.

  And it was…better than belle.

  It was freedom.

  So despite every hot, heavy drop of quivering hesitation, she inhaled deeper and obeyed Rebel as best as she could. Daring to believe him. Gambling on trusting him.

  Breaking every single one of her own damn rules.

  And hating her body for answering with wave upon wave of rebellious tingles—

  As Rebel Stafford probed her ass hole deeper.

  She decided to focus on what he’d instructed. Worked to push her muscles against his fingers, to open her passage wider for him. She was shocked by the results—not because it physically worked but because of how…nice it felt too. She actually had nerve endings back there…membranes that began to warm and spark from his contact, soon spreading across the throbbing tissues of her pussy, too.

  He worked himself in deeper…and it felt even nicer. Even inside other places. Even against the hot, tight walls of her womb…

  She wasn’t the only one who knew it.

  “Christ.” Rhett’s teeth openly gritted on the word. “I can feel you, Moon. Your dick…I can feel it against mine.”

  “Oh, God!” Brynn cried.

  “Oh, yeah.” Rebel growled. “Goddamn, 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.