Their Kidnapped Bride (Bridgewater Menage Series Book 1) (11 page)

I couldn't resist any longer, moving to kneel on the floor by her hip. Moving my hand beneath Ian's I slipped my fingers over her pussy lips. "She's dripping wet," I commented seeing her slick pussy lips and thighs. My words elicited another moan from her.

"Do you like this, lass?" Ian asked.

She shook her head but said nothing.

"Your body tells us otherwise, lass. Can you feel all the secret places in your arse awakening to my touch? Kane can feel how slick ye are now. Both of your men's hands are on ye, lass. Poor baby, so needy."

Carefully, Ian slowly worked his second finger in to join the first, slowly fucking her, stretching her open as I easily found her clit, hard and eager for my touch.

"No." Her breath was escaping in little pants. "I...I don't like this."

"What? That you feel pleasure in my touching you here? That Kane is watching your arse be stretched for the first time? That he's playing with your clit?"

She shifted her hips back, not realizing she wanted his fingers deeper, perhaps mine as well. When Ian filled her even further, she began to cry. Not in pain, most certainly not. We would never touch her and cause harm. This was the antithesis of her feelings. She needed to come so much that she was falling into a depth of frustration that had her overwhelming emotions escape through tears instead of release. "This is wrong!"

Using his free hand, Ian picked up the small plug Rhys had so expertly crafted, dipped it into the jar so that it was thickly coated, then gently pulled his fingers free, her body slumping into his lap. The way her body clenched down upon Ian's digits, I imagined the strangling grip her body would have on my cock. I stifled a groan as my cock swelled even further.

Before he nudged the plug up to the opening, I could see her opening wink once as it closed back up. Ian didn't offer her body the chance to do so, moving the slippery plug within in a slow, smooth stroke. She groaned and her entire muscles tensed once again, so I ran my hand up and down her leg in an attempt to soothe her.

Settled in place, the dark wooden handle could be readily seen, protruding only a small bit. She was stretched open slightly, just a start for her to begin adjusting in preparation for our cocks. Her swollen and aroused cunny lips beneath my fingers were hot and slippery. I'd set her body ablaze from putting my mouth upon her just a few minutes earlier. Although she hadn't wanted her arse played with, there was no missing how it had intensified her pleasure, her need to come. Her thighs were slick with her honey and her skin was coated in a sheen of perspiration. Moving my hand down, I flicked her clit and Emma arched her back, crying out.

She sobbed, a sound of need escaping from within that ripped at my control.

"See, baby? Only pleasure," I told her, continuing to stroke her cunny and her leg.

"You may come, lass."

I nudged her clit again when she didn't respond right away.

Sniffling, she said, "I...I don't want that thing in me. It's too big."

She was still focusing on what we were doing to her instead of how she felt.

"Not as big as either of our cocks, Emma," I reminded. We will fuck you at the same time, baby, Ian in your arse while I fill your cunny."

"How...how is that possible?" she asked, breathless.

"It's possible, lass. More than possible. It
will
happen," Ian said.

She groaned, probably envisioning how much more she'd be filled when we finally fucked her.

"You've done beautifully. Come now for us. Let us see. Show us you're such a good girl," Ian prompted.

"No," she sniffed. "No. I can't. Oh God."

She was so desperate, so lost. We were letting her decide if she would come, instead of commanding. It was clear she would need to be told to come, to take the decision to cede to the pleasure away from her. She wanted to submit. If Ian changed his tone, his wording ever so slightly to be less soothing and more demanding, Emma most likely would go off like a Fourth of July firecracker.

It was blatant how inhibited she was. How much her brain was in control of her body. And so another lesson would be taught today. With her answer, Ian carefully and slowly pulled the plug from her arse and we helped her stand, keeping his hold on her until she gained her bearings. We would have kept the plug in longer as part of her training, but she needed to learn that playing with her arse was going to be pleasurable, not embarrassing. It would make her come – we would ensure it – and she was denying herself that release. Both of us had our hands on her intimately, working her, yet still she refused. Therefore, we would give her what she wished. Soon enough, she'd
want
us to touch her there. To be touched by both of us at the same time. Until she recognized that, she'd remain on edge.

I stood. "Let's get you dressed. Everyone will wonder what we've been up to."

It was very hard not to smile at the look on Emma's face. She was so aroused her blue eyes were foggy, blurry with her need. Her mouth was open and she breathed in little pants. A pink flush brightened her cheeks and crept down her neck and to the tops of her breasts. A brighter pink tinged her plump nipples and she squeezed her slick thighs together. "But...."

Ian put a finger over her lips. "Shh. Ye did not wish to come and that is fine. We will always give ye pleasure, lass, ye only have to accept it. It is time to eat."

She frowned, her smooth brow marred with a crinkle of confusion.

Ian left to go into the washroom and return with her blue dress. He lowered it to the floor and I helped Emma step in, put her arms through the sleeves and began to do the long line of buttons up the front.

"As we said in the stage, no drawers for you. It will be quite uncomfortable for me to sit at dinner with a raging cock know your pussy is shaved and bare."

"Aye," Ian agreed.

"This dress is temporary until after the meal when we can ask Ann for some clothes. You are both of similar size and her dresses may work for you in the short term, perhaps with some sewing adjustments."

As I did up the buttons over her breasts, the sides of my hands brushed at her sensitive nipples and a sigh escaped her lips. She would quickly learn that her pleasure came before propriety while here on the ranch. Until she asked to come – begged for it – she would be in quite a state. And so would Ian and I.

CHAPTER SEVEN

EMMA

The evening meal was not a small affair. Even though the house belonged to Kane and Ian, the dining room was large, the vast table able to seat up to twenty. All of the men I'd met earlier were seated around it and stood at my entrance along with a few new faces, including one woman.

"I am Ann," she said. "It will be very nice to have another woman about." She was perhaps a few years older than me, with a broad smile and a soft demeanor. Her hair was a pale wheat color, pulled back neatly into a bun at her nape. With pale skin and blue eyes, she was quite striking. As Kane had said, we were similar in size, although my bosom was much more ample than her more dainty curves. In my tawdry blue dress with my hair a wild tangle down my back, I looked as wanton as I felt.

I forced a smile to my lips, but it was difficult, knowing everyone in the room was aware of the reasons for our tardiness. If they didn't, seeing me in such a fashion would provide answer enough. My cheeks were red, I could feel the heat, and my nipples were tight little buds beneath the fabric and there was no corset to hide that fact.

My pussy, my cunny as Kane and Ian called it, throbbed and pulsed with unrequited need. It felt...strange being shaved. Smooth and noticeably slick. My bottom was sore from Ian's fingers and the hard plug, but it, too, pulsed and little sparks of pleasure erupted every time I clenched down.

Ian pulled out a chair for me and I sat without thought, my husbands sitting on either side of me. "That is Robert and Andrew, Ann's husbands," Kane said, pointing to two men who smiled and nodded at me from across the table. All the men on this ranch were large, as if the fresh air, hard work and good food made them this way.

The plates and bowls of food were passed around the table, Kane or Ian filling my plate as they came by. I was thankful they were assisting me with this nominal task, for my thoughts were too scattered, yet at the same time too focused on my body and the craving I felt for release.

"The men have houses of their own, but we eat our meals together," Kane continued. He acted as if nothing had happened upstairs just minutes before, although he did say his cock was hard. Perhaps he was just better at hiding his need than I. "Ann will come in the morning to cook along with one of the men, the role rotating daily so she has help. You can offer your help as well, or if you are inclined or skilled, in some other part of the ranch."

I picked at the food on my plate, listening to Kane's words, but focused solely on my body. I couldn't help squeezing my thighs together to lessen the ache, although it didn't seem to help. I was sore, not only from my maidenhead being torn, but from Ian working my bottom. I squirmed on the hard seat trying to attain relief. Nothing seemed to help. I feared the only solution was what the men had offered not once, but twice – sweet release. I needed to come.

"Eat, lass." Ian leaned in and kissed my brow, then returned to his food.

"Are you all right?" Ann asked, seated across from me. She tilted her head and studied me. "You look feverish. Was your journey too arduous?"

I shook my head, having no interest in revealing
why
I looked overheated.

"As you might remember from your first day or two as a bride, Ann, Emma is tending to the needs of two very ardent men." It was either Robert or Andrew who spoke. I couldn't remember which one had the beard and which had blond hair.

Awareness lit the other woman's face. "It's not too terrible, is it?" Ann asked, biting her lip. Her eyes darted to her husband beside her.

"Terrible?" her husband queried. "If I remember correctly, Kane came running because he thought you were being beaten, when you were actually screaming your pleasure."

Kane chuckled. "I remember that quite well."

"Do you remember
why
you came so hard that time?"

Ann blushed to the roots of her blond hair. "I...I can't say."

"It was the first time we stretched your ass. You found it most enjoyable."

"Robert," Ann chided, looking down at her untouched meal. She shifted in her seat.

"I know it is hard for you to voice how you please us, but it is something you need to practice. If you won't tell her about your pleasure, then you will tell her about your punishments." Andrew's voice, although patient and calm, was deep. Neither man had British accents.

"But...I don't want to tell anyone about that."

"There's no shame in making amends. You can tell her about a punishment or she can watch one firsthand." I recognized Andrew's stern tone as both Kane and Ian had used it with me.

"I am spanked," she replied, squirming. The reply was short and met her husband's request, but by the frown on both her husbands' faces that was not the answer they expected.

"Emma has most likely learned about that punishment by now," Robert replied. "Give her a reason for why you were spanked, please."

Ann licked her lips. "I went near the stallion in the outer pen."

I was an accomplished rider, but I did not know how dire her act was.

Andrew clarified for me. "The stallion sensed the mare was in heat and was solely focused on mounting her. Ann did not heed our warnings for her safety and neared the primed animal."

It did sound dangerous.

"Ann is the most precious thing in the world and we can not keep her safe if she disregards any of the ranch rules." Robert ran a knuckle down Ann's cheek. She turned her face and smiled lovingly at Robert. Andrew stroked down her pale hair and she turned her gaze to him next.

Their love was blatant and being punished did not seem to hinder their relationship. Ian and Kane, while stern and clearly willing to guide me to their expectations, did not hold grudges regarding my transgressions either. Once a punishment was meted, all was forgiven. I did not have to worry that they would consider me an unworthy bride – quite the opposite, in fact. They seemed rather pleased with me. It was I who struggled with the arrangement.

The other men around the table ate their meals like men half starved. Utensils scraped across the china as they cleaned their plates, grabbing bowls and platters for additional helpings. But there was no question they followed the conversation.

"Stop squirming, sweetheart," Andrew said to Ann.

"I'm sorry, but it's–" She leaned in and whispered in his ear.

"It pleases us to know you have a plug in your ass. In fact, pleased is not the right word. You are not the only one uncomfortable at the table."

Confusion marred Ann's face and Andrew took the fork from her hand and placed it on her plate, then lowered her hand to his lap. "Oh!" she cried.

Both her husbands were looking upon Ann with very heated, very aroused gazes.