Their Christmas Bride (3 page)

"Rebecca belongs to him, and MacDonald."

I was mortified, sharing my girlish feelings with Rebecca about a man she'd just wed. "They must think I'm so silly!"

Quinn took a hold of my chin. "Nonsense. Our customs are not commonly known and we keep it that way. While we consider the two of us claiming you to be normal, others would not consider it as such. Dash's attentions were on Rebecca and that was the day I escorted you home and redirected you toward me, and Porter did the same soon thereafter," he commented. "Isn't that right?"

I glanced up at him through my lashes and nodded. Any interest I'd had in Mr. McPherson had been forgotten. Mr. Quinn released my chin and the skin there felt cold.

"We both paid interest to you after that because we wanted you. We never would have vied for your attentions. We wanted them equally. We
want
them equally."

"I thought just that, that you would fight each other," I murmured.

Porter shook his head. "We were both courting you. Together. Looking back, can you see it?"

I thought about how they'd escorted me about town, paid particular attention to me at town functions, stopped by the boarding house to say hello when they'd come to town—together and individually. While I'd been flattered and more than mildly pleased by their attentions, I hadn't considered it to be courting.

"Yes, but I couldn't imagine either of you being serious if both of you were attentive." I placed my hands on my hips. "I assumed you both knew about the other's...focus and couldn't imagine it being anything but courteous."

"We don't want to be courteous with you, at least not all the time."

"Not right now," Porter added, his voice deeper than I'd ever heard it.

I didn't know
exactly
what they were speaking of, but my heart hammered in my chest at the possibilities. "What do we do now? I...I do not know what to do." How did one go about being married to two men?

Something bright and hot flared in Porter's eyes. When I glanced at Quinn, he had a similar expression. "Now," Quinn said. "We make you ours."

CHAPTER FOUR

December

Beneath the covers, my nightdress was bunched up about my waist. The only light that filtered into the room was from the half moon. My fingers stroked over my eager flesh. I knew how to rub myself, to bring myself quick and very illicit pleasure. In the past, it had been fast as I worried that the Arnolds would know of my late night activities. When they never fired me for my wanton behavior, I had to assume I had been quiet enough in finding swift release. But when Mr. Quinn and Mr. Porter talked to me earlier in the day, it was their faces, their broad smiles, and their even broader shoulders that filled my mind. The pleasure that built was only greater still when I imagined their hands on my body. How, I didn't know, perhaps having one of their hands replacing mine between my spread thighs, but my body wanted it. I had to bite my lip
when the pleasure washed over me to prevent from crying out their names into the dark.
 

***

"Don't worry about knowing what to do," Porter told me. "We know. First thing is to get you naked."

My mouth fell open. "Naked?" I couldn't back up, couldn't go forward or to my left, so I slid along the bars to the right, but only made it a few inches before Porter's hand snaked out and grabbed the bar beside me, hemming me in completely.

"Naked," Quinn repeated.

I gulped. "You wanted to marry me just to see me without my clothes?"

Both men paused and stepped back. While I appreciated the space to breathe, I'd clearly said something wrong.

"If I just wanted a naked woman, I would have found one who wasn't so difficult and contrary," Porter said.

I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest. "Then you should go and—"

Quinn cupped his hand over my mouth and looked down at me as if I were being difficult and contrary. Oh dear, I was just as Porter described.

"I want a woman who is difficult and contrary," he said.

"And tiny and lush," Quinn added.

"Who looks at both of us with curiosity and a hint of longing."

"Whose smile brightens any room she's in."

"Who is kind and friendly to the other women at Bridgewater."

"Who wants
us.
" Quinn dropped his hand as they slowly moved closer once again and this time I felt longing and desire and want and something akin to love. Perhaps it was, but I couldn't consider the notion at the moment. "Isn't that right, angel? Do you want us as much as we want you? We wanted you for our wife from the very beginning, but do you want us to be your husbands?"

This was the moment. While I'd said yes earlier when Porter asked me to marry him, they couldn't ask if I'd take them both as my husbands in front of the sheriff. Porter had told me to trust him then, and I had. Did I trust them both now with my heart? That was what was at stake. I'd slowly been falling in love with them, bit by bit over the past two years. Perhaps that was why Mr. Matthews was so odious and of no interest to me. My heart had been held elsewhere.

I looked at both men. They were so big and strong and brave and dominant, and yet I had the opportunity to hurt them. What they wanted with me was intimate and private and special and I couldn't just toss that to the wind.

"Yes," I breathed. I nodded my head to back up my words. "Yes, I want you both as my husbands."

They grinned and I couldn't help but smile as well.

"Now then, we want you naked," Quinn repeated. He seemed to have a very specific focus and that solely involved me without any clothes. When I didn't make a move to remove them, he asked, "Shall we help?"

Porter didn't wait for me to reply, for he seemed smart enough to know I had no plan to do as they requested, and his hands came up to the buttons down the front of my dress. I tried to slap them away, but he would not be dissuaded. Quinn moved back, out of my field of vision. I didn't care what he did, for Porter had worked the tiny buttons free all the way down to my navel with surprising haste. He pushed the material off my shoulders and down my arms, working it completely off of me to pool in a circle around my legs.

"We can't do this here. Someone could come in!"

The air was warm, but goose flesh rose on my bare arms. Porter stopped his motions and looked me over. I wore a plain corset with a chemise and drawers beneath. Heavy wool stockings covered my legs to above my knee and I wore my sturdy boots.

"No one is going to come in. The door is bolted and the sheriff himself said that he was busy with his family." Porter spoke to me but kept his eyes on my body. "We only pulled him away because it was for a wedding."

Quinn returned to my side and looked at my uncovered body as he spoke. "It's Christmas and it's time for us to unwrap our present."

"This isn't what I imagined," I admitted.

Two sets of dark eyes met mine. "You imagined us taking your clothes off?" Porter's voice was laced with intrigue. "What did you think of?"

I'd caught myself in a trap, and the men knew it. I felt my cheeks flushed.

"Tell us, sweetheart, what were your thoughts?"

I bit my lip to keep from responding.

Quinn's eyebrow went up. "It's going to be like that, is it?" His voice was smooth and clear, but filled with illicit promise. My nipples tightened beneath my corset and I was fortunate enough that they were hidden beneath my corset so the men couldn't see. "You can't keep secrets from your men, Allison."

He lifted his hand and showed me the handcuffs dangling from two fingers.

I frowned. "What—"

"You've been a bad girl, angel."

I shook my head as Porter took hold of one of my wrists, Quinn the other. I fought against their grips, but even though their holds were gentle, I couldn't break free. Quinn wrapped one side of the handcuffs around one wrist, then the other, the clink of the metal loud in the small room.

"I thought you wanted me to be your wife...no, you can't arrest me and leave me like this. I'm not wearing a dress!"

Both men paused. "Leave you?" They shook their heads in unison. "We're not going anywhere, we're just tired of you holding back and resisting. We are your husbands now and as I said, no secrets."

Porter lifted my wrists up and over my head, higher and higher so my arms were stretched out above me, until he hooked the chain of the handcuffs over my head on a hook on an iron bar. I tugged, but felt no give.

"What are you doing?" All I could do was shift from foot to foot, turning only slightly.

"We want answers, angel," Porter replied. "The faster you give them to us, the faster we will make you come."

I hadn't heard that word before, but I knew what he meant. I flushed hotly at the very thought. It had been my dream to have them bring me to pleasure instead of doing it myself.

"Ah, she knows to what we speak," Quinn added. "What did you imagine about being with us?"

I shook my head, my lips pursed tightly together.

Porter's hands worked the corset hooks loose, one at a time until he dropped the garment onto the floor. My breasts were small but with my hands above my head, they were thrust outward and the thin chemise couldn't hide my tight nipples or the upper swells. With my arms trapped, they couldn't pull the straps down and I felt relieved to know I would remain covered.

So far, neither man had touched me skin to skin, except when Porter held my hand or the brief kiss during the ceremony. Now though, both men's hands ran up and down my arms, over the thin chemise to my hips and lower still to the exposed strip of thigh above my stockings and below the edge of my drawers. The intimate touch was startling and I gasped.

"Did you imagine our hands on you like this? Undoing the tiny ribbons here at the top of your stockings? Sliding our hands behind your knees and calves? Taking off your boots to see your dainty feet?"

They commented on their actions step by step and I could do nothing but watch their lowered heads and feel their combined hands at work.

I couldn't help the sigh that slipped from my lips. I'd wanted and needed this for so long. Having two men kneel before me—not just any two men, but Quinn and Porter—made my core weep in readiness for them. I'd felt it when I'd touched myself in the past and could feel it now in the way my drawers clung to my folds.

Porter's hands slipped up under the hem of my chemise and tugged at the ribbon of my drawers. With the garment loose at my waist it slipped down to pool whisper soft on top of the growing pile.

Quinn stood to his full height while Porter remained on his knees.

"We have ways to get you talk," Quinn prodded.

I arched a brow almost saucily. "You can't get my chemise off with my arms up."

Quinn's brow matched mine, but his grin was of triumph. With a quick tug of his hand, the narrow strap of my chemise ripped, causing the fabric to droop low and expose my left nipple. I gasped and tried to squirm. He shook his head as he reached up and tore the other strap as well. I felt the cool slide of the linen down my body.

"Lord, woman, you are beautiful," Porter growled.

I squirmed again, my modesty losing against their heated stares.

"I've been imagining your body, how soft your skin would be, the heft of your breasts, the swell of your hip, the scent of you." Porter moved his face so that his breath fanned over the dark hair that covered my womanhood. "Here."

"My...my scent?" I looked down my naked body at Porter, whose eyes were almost black now.

With one calloused palm on my leg, he spread my feet apart and brushed the tip of his nose over my nether lips. "Your arousal. I want your scent on me, the taste of you on my tongue."

"Taste?" My voice was breathy and full of confusion and desire. I was afraid of what he was going to do to me, and eager at the same time.

"Taste," he repeated, just before he placed his palms high up on my inner thighs and used his thumbs to spread me open. He licked along the length of my woman's core.

I jolted at the surprise contact and the handcuffs clanged against the iron bar. "Are you supposed to do that?"

Quinn cupped one of my breasts in his palm, his thumb stroking back and forth over the very tight—and very sensitive—tip. "Hell yes, he's supposed to do that."

"She's dripping wet," Porter murmured, his hot breath fanning my very heated, very swollen flesh.

"And we've barely touched her," Quinn commented. "Interesting. So you're not as averse to our touch as you pretend to be."

I couldn't keep my eyes open against their assault on my senses, for that is what it was. They weren't gentle; they weren't wooing and soothing a new bride out of her virginity. My body was being worked in such a way that pleasure was drowning me as if I fell into a fast moving river, the current so swift I could do nothing but let go and be taken away. I was going to
give
my virginity to them.

Porter flicked his tongue over the bundle of nerves I’d rubbed with the flats of my fingers, circling and swirling until I
climaxed.

When Porter slipped a finger into me to accompany the ministrations of his tongue, I couldn't help but clench down on it, wanting to pull it into me, to have it fill me up.

"Her maidenhead's right there," Porter breathed across my overly sensitive pearl.

"Is this how you wanted us to touch you?"

I nodded my head; I couldn't deny them any longer.

"Good girl," Quinn whispered. "Did you touch yourself like this?"

I nodded again.

"Did you make yourself come, angel?" Porter asked, curling his finger within me just right. "Just. Like. This?"

"Yes!" I shouted, because he pushed me over the edge and I was lost, floating, sinking, and swirling from their attentions. My skin flushed hotly, then a sheen of perspiration broke out across my breasts and belly while my arousal slipped down my thighs.

They continued to pluck and coax and pull my pleasure until it ebbed away. Only then did they take their hands from me and I felt bereft. Cold even. Porter stood. Both men's cheeks were ruddy and their eyes dark. Porter's mouth glistened and was slick. I realized it was from me. They were both completely dressed, Quinn still wearing his coat, while I didn't have a stitch on.