Barefoot Bride for Three (15 page)

Trace could see how they looked at her, eager for her attention, but he said nothing. He held out the one chair for her. When she sat he leaned down. Holding her face with both hands, he kissed her. She knew he did it to brand her once more but she concentrated on his lips and their sensual caress. When he released her, he gently squeezed her breast. He strolled to the other end of the table and found his stool, leaving her gasping.

She dropped her burning face and stared at her clasped fingers, white with strain. Jack offered a platter of flat, black biscuits. The smell made her veer back. She shook her head.

“You burned the biscuits again, Sy,” complained Jack. “They’re so bad, the missus can’t eat them.”

It wasn’t just the food. The tension around the table made her stomach clench. No matter how hungry, she couldn’t force a bite down.

“I need to know if the golden angel Sy says has the bottom of Aphrodite, can cook,” said Jack.

Beth glared at Simon who lifted his shoulders and held his hands out as if to say “how could I not tell him”. She groaned, set her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands. He didn’t say “body,” but “bottom.” He watched them, all right. The same heat that Trace created rose from below her belly.

“I asked about her cooking, but she wouldn’t tell me,” said Trace. He frowned at the black disk in his hand and banged it against the table. Not a flake chipped off. He spooned into his wooden bowl what must be stew. He offered the pot to her but she shook her head. Just the sight of it made her shudder.

Simon wrinkled his nose at the steaming bowl in front of him, then pushed it away.
“When will she share her secrets with us?” he asked.

Reading more into the comment, Beth flicked her eyes to him.

All innocence, he smiled politely and turned to Trace. “Cooking secrets, I mean.”

Trace shoved his bowl to the side. “Beth will share when she’s ready.”

She looked at her lap where her fingers knotted together as if she prayed. Trace already showed her more caring, affection, and respect than anyone had previously. He’d also shown her why a woman would work hard all day just to get the glory her husband provided at night. She looked up and caught his quick wink. He smiled behind his eyes, not to make a fool of her in front of his brothers but to show they were a team.

In their wedding vows, Trace promised to bed, breed, and care for her the best he could. Beth’s fingers tightened, turning red and white from the pressure. She’d been so smug about not promising to obey Trace that she’d not thought about what she
had
promised. To take Trace into her bed and to care for him
and his family
and whatever children she produced. When he said there’d never be love, he also promised no Elliott would force her. She thought he meant cleaning stable muck off their boots or cooking prairie oysters when she couldn’t even stand the look or feel of regular ones.

What man would share his wife with his brothers, without jealousy? No matter how far out in the wilderness, there were rules to be followed. Weren’t there? She’d sworn never to have a marriage like her parents’, with the man controlling every aspect of their life. Her father gave nothing but orders, and her mother meekly went along. Her father did everything to be accepted by the highest levels of society no matter the cost. Selling his eldest daughter to get out of a debt was nothing to dear Papa. He fit right in with his lying, cheating, brutal friends. They said one thing and did another. At least the Elliott men were honest about what they wanted.

Her.

Could she be honest with herself?

She liked what Trace did to her. More than that, she craved it. She couldn’t imagine going through life without writhing under his fingers and tongue. The way he entered her so forcefully, face grimacing before he croaked his pleasure, made her eager to share marital relations.

Would the desire ever slow down? Simon stretched out his leg, his warm thigh rubbing against hers. An eager ache high between her thighs made her want to rub herself. Even better would be Trace’s hard cock sliding into her.

What would Simon’s feel like? She stared at his hand, watching his curled index finger glide up and down the handle of his carved spoon. Her mouth had slid over Trace’s hot cock like that a few hours ago.

She reached for her water, letting her arm touch her breasts’ hard tips as she moved. Like scratching a mosquito bite, it felt good for a moment, but she immediately wanted to do it again. Finally noticing the heavy silence, she lifted her eyes.

Three pair of eager eyes stared at her erect nipples. Three sets of nostrils flared whenever she inhaled. Her breasts tingled as the blood flowed into them. She clenched her inside muscles but it did nothing to ease her ache.

“Trace, I…”

He immediately stood behind her, his broad hands on her shoulders. “I didn’t let you get much sleep last night, Beth. You need to rest for later.”

She groaned inside. Why did he have to say that? Did he enjoy baiting his brothers? Both of them shifted as if their pants were too tight.

Trace drifted a finger over her cheek. “I have something for you. I think it will fit.”

He kissed her temple and left the room. She looked at her lap so she wouldn’t see the eager pleading eyes of his brothers. She heard a drawer open in the parlor. Papers rustled, and then it closed again. Trace took the few steps necessary from the parlor to the kitchen. He dropped to one knee at her left side. She looked down at his wide smile.

He brought his palm up and showed her the box sitting there. He opened it. A gold ring nestled on white satin.

“Beth, will you be my wife?”

She stared at the ring, then at her husband. Her gulp was loud in the room.

“I know the wedding wasn’t what a woman dreams of. I’m not either. But this was my great-grandmother’s ring. Will you wear it?”

She nodded, blinking to hold back tears. He took her left hand and slid the ring on her third finger. It was a bit loose but would fit once she gained back the weight she’d lost.

He stood up, leaned over, and took her face in his hands again. She closed her eyes to savor the light scratch of his moustache over soft lips on her cheek. His lips hardened, pressing hers open and entering her eager mouth. She burned for him, forgetting everything but her need for more. When he pulled away, she swayed, glad she was sitting down.

“You’re so hot, Beth. Let me help you cool down.”

He’d undone her buttons, all the way to the swell of her breasts, before she could stammer a refusal. He winked and slipped a rough hand over her breasts, chafing her nipple. She closed her eyes at the grins across the table and bit back a moan.

“I’ll give you a cool sponge bath while the boys clean up.”

“But…”

Hand under her elbow, he escorted her from the room. She tried to explain that she couldn’t undress with two strangers in the next room and only a cloth for a door, but he wouldn’t listen.

“They’re not strangers, Beth. They’re my brothers. You undressed for me on our wedding night.”

“But you were my husband!” She hissed, trying to keep his busy hands from her buttons. No such luck. He had her down to boots in no time flat. Soon she was stark naked, and stark raving mad to have come here.

Until she met Trace, no man had ever looked at her as he did. His eyes devoured her, his need for her new but demanding. Her nipples crinkled hard under his gaze. He smiled, slow and sure, as her body instantly reacted.

He was her husband. He owned her. Every inch, inside and out. No matter that he made her flush with embarrassment, he wouldn’t beat her. Instead, he gave her pleasure. If he wanted his brothers to help her scream her release, it was still far better than screaming in pain with Big Joe. She could do this. She could pretend she was married to them all.

But not yet!

“Wait here. I’ll get some warm water and a cloth. No, I want to do this for you,” he continued when she tried to protest.

She stood proud when Trace pulled aside the curtain. As expected, Simon happened to be standing where he could see her. He even had time for a saucy wink before the curtain fell. Her obstinate body reacted to him almost as it did with Trace, throbbing for fulfillment.

With Trace gone she could think. She crossed her arms and turned her back on them all. What they wanted, what she wanted, was a sin against the church. But then, what good had the church done her? They said it was God’s will that women obey men in all things. She was to accept chastisement as her father or husband considered necessary, no matter how brutal. Her body belonged to her husband and her soul to God. She was only the vessel.

No.

Her body, mind, and soul belonged to herself. And she’d do what she wanted, when she wanted, how she wanted. And right now, she wanted some time to herself. Her husband, along with his handsome brothers, would have to live with it.

“Sy was right. Your bottom is like a juicy ripe peach.”

She shrieked and whirled around, one hand up and one down to cover herself. Jack lounged against the doorway.

“Yep,” he called over his shoulder. “You’re right about the melons, too.”

“Out of the way, Jackass. Beth’s hot.” Trace elbowed past, an enamel pan in his hands. The curtain fell into place behind him.

“Sure is,” said Jack through the thin material. “But she ain’t the only one.”

Beth glared at her husband.

“Don’t mind the twins,” he said. “They wanted to see what a lucky man I am.”

“You may never get lucky again, Trace Elliott.”

“What’s the matter, Beth?” The smile playing at the corner of his mouth sent her fury higher. His fingers unbuttoned his shirt. His wide chest, so comforting to lean against, appeared. She gulped.

“What’s the matter?” she echoed. “Your two brothers just ogled me like, like, I was a basket of fruit! Don’t you care that your brothers want to touch me?”

“Oh, I care, sweetheart,” he rasped. He unbuttoned and kicked off his pants. Her eyes automatically dropped. She gulped as the source of her pleasure swelled. “I care so much it’s killing me.”

He stepped forward. She retreated until her back touched the bedpost. She grasped it behind her back to keep from reaching out to him.

“Know what’s really making me want you?”

He slid his fingers through her damp curls. She shivered as he stroked her flesh, stoking her heat. Heart pounding, she watched his eyes darken.

“Knowing that my brothers seeing you naked makes you hot and wet.” He leaned down to inhale the scent between her breasts. “Simon wants you,” he said, kissing his way down her chest to her belly.

She clenched at every touch, knowing what he’d do when he reached her core.

“Jackass wants you.” He gently encouraged her to spread her feet apart with the backs of his hands. “And I want you. Now!”

He knelt between her wide legs, passed his arms between her thighs, and lifted her above his mouth. He hummed into her cunny, the vibrations spreading outward like a pebble in a pond. He shifted her sideways and pressed her bottom against the mattress. She lay back when he lifted her legs over his shoulders and, just as he had the first night, explored her.

He spread her pussy lips wide with two fingers, his eyes wide in wonder. He lightly trailed a finger along her inner lips. He followed that with his tongue.

She forgot about his brothers. About the curtained door. About everything but his magic tongue and fingers. She writhed on the bed, gasping and moaning, begging him for more until she crested.

He stood, held her hips with fingers damp from her release, and finally joined their flesh. She writhed, eyes closed, as he filled her need. Standing, he pumped, slow and steady, bringing her higher once more.

A greedy mouth engulfed her breast and she arched into it, reveling in the extra sensation. Trace’s hands clenched her hips and plunged harder, faster. She gasped when a mouth captured her other breast and looked up. Three hungry pairs of eyes focused on her. Someone tweaked her clit and she exploded, Trace’s roar barely registering over the blood rushing through her ears.

Chapter Nine

“I will kill him,” she muttered. “Slice off body parts and stew them. Starting with the sausage between his legs. Then I’ll start on his brothers.”

Beth faced the wall, curled on her side with the covers clenched tight. How dare his brothers touch her without an invitation! No matter how wonderful it felt, she wanted control. It was
her
body they’d pleasured!

“No you won’t, sweetheart,” growled the voice that sent her anger, and libido, soaring.

“Why not?” Her growl was almost as gruff as his.

Trace lay down behind her, spooning on top of the sheet. He slid his hand over her breast and pulled her to him. “Because you like the idea of sharing with us.”

“It’s wrong!”

“Says who?”

“The Bible! Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife!”

“We would never do that.”

She shoved his hand away and tilted her head to look at him. He lazed on his side, chin on one fist, the other now fingering her hair. His organ was hard. Again.