Their Stolen Bride (Bridgewater Menage Series Book 7) Read online

  “Benson!” Father cried.

  The man turned instinctively toward my father and as he did so, took a half step away from me.

  A deafening gunshot had me jump, then cover my ears.

  My father’s voice was flat. “He’s not going to shoot you, I am.”

  My father’s gun was smoking and I was slow to understand that he’d shot Mr. Benson. As that became clear in my befuddled mind, the man fell to the floor, solid, dense. Dead.

  “Fuck,” Parker muttered.

  Sully ate the distance between us and tugged me right into his arms. I felt the beating of his heart against my cheek, felt his warmth. Knew he was alive. He was kissing the top of my head, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe, but this time, I didn’t care.

  My ears were ringing from the single gunshot, but I heard Parker speak.

  “Are you insane? You could have killed her!”

  “I might be old,” my father replied. “I might even be a bastard when it comes to my daughter, but I’m a very good shot. That man threatened Mary and he deserved to die.”

  I lifted my head and looked at my father. He’d never once said he loved me. Never hugged me, told me he was proud of me. Nothing. But his killing Mr. Benson proved that somewhere in his heart, he cared about me.

  “Father...”

  He shook his head, put the gun on the desk. Kane came around to stand beside him, surreptitiously taking the weapon away. I doubted my father even knew he’d done killed a man. He was in shock as much as me, perhaps more. Not only did he discover his daughter hadn’t run off to get in bed with a stranger, but he discovered his business partner was dirty and intended to commit several murders.

  He’d been wrong. He’d been wronged. I didn’t expect an apology or anything from the man. But I could give him something.

  “Thank you, Father. Thank you for saving me.”

  I looked up at Sully. His eyes held so many emotions. Anger, fury, fear, lust and anguish.

  “Let’s go home,” I told him.

  He nodded once, then turned us toward the door. I doubted he would let me out of his arms anytime soon. I was just fine with that.

  “Mary,” my father called. Kane still stood near his desk, perhaps to ensure he didn’t do anything else reckless. “I’m sorry.”

  Sully pulled me out of the room and down the hall. I wondered if it was the last time I would be in this house, if my father was rid of me once and for all, but I wouldn’t worry about that now. Now, I would find that peace and quiet with Sully and Parker.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SULLY

  It had taken three hours for the sheriff to be summoned, inspect Benson’s body and for us to be questioned about the incident. Millard’s money and standing helped, and no one was thrown into jail before being questioned. While her father might be an asshole, he’d ensured Mary was kept outside and away from the body, as well as the first to recount to the lawman what had occurred. Parker, Kane and I offered our information next, and quickly, too, for Millard was insisting Mary had been through enough and that I take her home. He’d said she could succumb to hysteria from her ordeal. While I doubted a bout of that, it showed the man had at least one caring bone in his body.

  It had taken three more hours to ride back to Bridgewater. She’d sat in my lap the entire journey, but remained quiet, even falling asleep with her cheek against my chest. I’d calmed during the journey, becoming more at ease the further we distanced ourselves from Butte, the longer I held her. On the ranch, everything was quiet and Mary was safe. Unless she went off on some harebrained idea again. Before the day was out, Parker and I would ensure she would never do something like that again.

  Standing outside the front door, I took in the peaceful view—prairie grasses waving in the soft breeze, snow-capped mountains in the distance. The only sounds were the grasshoppers and the wind.

  As Mary walked hand in hand with Parker to the house, I knew I was right where I belonged. I was with my family. By marrying Mary, we’d become just what I’d always longed for. Soon, we’d make the family even larger. I wanted to see Mary become round with child. Mine. Ours.

  Very possessively, we took our bride directly to the washroom. As I began to fill the tub with water from the sun-heated cistern, Parker helped her out of her clothes. When she’d stripped off her dress, I made note that she wasn’t wearing her petticoat or drawers. It pleased me that she followed that dictate even while we’d been gone.

  We bathed her then, Parker and I kneeling at either side of the tub, using soap and our hands to wash away the dirt and filth of the day.

  “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  “Should we drown you instead?” Parker asked, running a cloth over her pale shoulder.

  She looked down at the water. There were no bubbles, only the scent of roses that came from the bar of soap in my hand.

  “I thought you’d be mad.”

  “I was angry,” I admitted. “The journey home has tempered it.”

  I hadn’t just been angry. I’d been frustrated and afraid and… fuck, so many emotions had roiled through me. When we’d walked in Millard’s house and heard the crash from the hallway, we’d followed the sound of raised voices. There were more than two people in that locked room, meaning it wasn’t just a little father-daughter discussion. Our bride, in the invariably short time we’d known her, had never been one to throw tantrums, and I doubted she’d have started then. I’d given Parker a quick glance, and he’d nodded, his jaw tight. Only a door separated us from Mary. Lifting my leg, I’d kicked right beside the doorknob, forcing the wood to splinter around the solid lock.

  The sight before us when the door had slammed open… fuck.

  “We were so scared that something had happened to you. Then Benson—”

  Parker didn’t say more than that, just had Mary tilt her head back so he could wash her hair. In that position, I could see that her neck held no marks from the attack.

  “Better?” Parker asked, wringing the water from the long strands of her hair when he finished.

  I’d just been content watching.

  She nodded, gave us a smile. “Much.”

  “Good, then it is time for your punishment,” I said as I stood, grabbing a bath sheet from the nearby stool.

  “Punishment?” Mary asked, looking up at me, a frown creasing her brow.

  She looked perfect. Whole. Unharmed. Her hair was a wet mass over one shoulder. Her cheeks were bright with color, which was much more agreeable than earlier when they were pale with shock. Beneath the surface of the water, her body was so pale and lush. Her nipples were plump and full, and lower, I could just discern the glint of pale curls at the top of her pussy. I ached to sink into her body, to lose myself in her. As Parker stood, he shifted his cock in his pants and I knew he felt the same. It was time to take her together, to claim her fully. But that had to wait.

  “Why should I be punished?”

  I held out the sheet and after Parker helped her from the tub, I wrapped her in it. She took the ends and pulled them across her chest, but the fabric became instantly damp and clung to her every curve.

  “Why?” Parker asked. He stripped, then climbed into the tub. “Your note only said you went to Butte. Butte! We didn’t know where you were and had to go to a brothel to find you. Out of every woman in the Territory, you should know the type of men who frequent that place.”

  He grabbed the unscented soap and scrubbed his body.

  “I’ve been safe every time I went in the past,” she countered, watching Parker’s hands at work. “Up until I married you, I lived in Butte. I never went about chaperoned once I left the schoolroom.”

  “In the past you weren’t married to us and were not under our protection,” I added, moving to sit on the bench beneath the window to tug off my boots. “Going to the brothel alone is not your only indiscretion. You traveled all the way to Butte by yourself, then went to confront your father. Again, alone! You were unprepared for
the worst consequence.”

  Parker stood and stepped from the tub. He grabbed another bath sheet and began to dry himself.

  “Do you have any idea what could have befallen just on your journey to town?” Parker put the towel on the hook to dry and put his hands on his hips. He didn’t reach for his clothes. They wouldn’t be needed in the bedroom. “You could have been thrown from the horse. A rattlesnake bite. Outlaws!”

  I wasn’t too keen on used water, but I wanted the dirt off of me before I fucked Mary and I was in a rush. Quickly, I climbed in and scrubbed.

  “I didn’t know where you were when you went away either, and you were to be gone for days,” she countered, her words full of her own anger. “You went with others, but you were going against outlaws. Outlaws! They carry weapons. I only went to see my father. My father.”

  “Your father’s an ass and has acquaintances who are ruthless,” I said, rinsing away the soap. It was a quick bath; only a rinse in a frozen creek was done faster.

  “We are both military men,” Parker told her. “So are all the other men at Bridgewater. We know how to shoot, how to fight an enemy. Plan for contingencies, bad outcomes. Hell, even floods. It was our job. Protecting the innocent and fighting the enemy is what we’ve all been trained to do. Going against Benson’s men, we weren’t going in blind. There were six of us and the men who stayed with you knew the plan, knew where we’d be.”

  I climbed from the tub and dried myself.

  “I was well armed,” she argued. Her chin had gone up and the color in her cheeks now wasn’t from the bath. “I had the truth. Hard facts about Mr. Benson that would have ensured my father wouldn’t do business with him. That would have ensured that Mr. Benson would want nothing to do with me. I was free.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us about these hard facts?” I asked. When she’d recounted her version of the incident to the sheriff, we’d learned then about Benson’s mine and his reasons for being so desperate to marry Mary. “We could have gone with you to your father.”

  “I learned of them from Chloe, but you two shaved my pussy and put the plug in my ass directly after. I got distracted and forgot about it until after you left.”

  “You’re going to be distracted again. Right now. Drop the sheet.”

  Mary did as Parker commanded, letting the damp covering slip to the floor. There wasn’t any way she could miss our hard cocks, although they were always hard around her and she’d accustomed herself to it.

  He took her hand and led her to our bedroom. I followed, enjoying the view of her perfect ass sway as she walked, even the little dimples just above.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen,” Parked continued, going over to the dresser and picking a plug from the wooden box where they were kept, then the jar of ointment. “You’re going to show us how you can work the plug into your ass, because if you’ve been a good girl, you’ve been doing so while we were gone. Then we’re going to spank you and you are not going to come.”

  “We know how much you like to be spanked and we know how much you like things in your ass. That is far from punishment for you,” I added.

  “You will deny me my pleasure?” she asked.

  “You will know then how we felt when we discovered you gone. Frustrated, out of control. Needy.”

  “Then we’re going to claim you, Sully in your pussy and me in your ass.”

  We stood, patiently waiting for Mary to come to terms with her fate. The plug would go in her ass—we had to ensure she was truly ready for us to take her together—and she would be spanked.

  “Would you like a warm-up spanking first before the plug?” Parker asked.

  Of the two of us, I was the more commanding. Mary came to me when she wanted to be fucked up against the wall or over the kitchen table, rough and hard and quick. When she wanted a gentler ride, she found Parker, riding his cock or grabbing the headboard as he pressed her into the bed as he took her. He was the softer one, the soother. But now, after what we’d witnessed today, Parker was the one who would ensure she learned her lesson.

  Pursing her lips, she looked at both of us, at the plug in Parker’s hand, then sighed. She took the hard object and crawled onto the bed. Parker sat on the edge and unscrewed the jar’s lid as she settled onto her back.

  “I’d rather you do it,” she admitted. She wasn’t missish. She didn’t act all virginal or embarrassed by the carnal things we did together. She told the truth. She liked a plug in her ass and she liked when we took control. What she didn’t realize was that while she was putting it in herself, we were very much in control.

  Putting one hand on her knee, Parker flared it out and Mary let her legs fall open. Her perfect pussy was on display.

  I stood at the foot of the bed, my hands gripping the rail of the footboard and watched. It was almost impossible not to climb onto the bed and just sink right into her. She was wet, I could see her folds shiny and slick. She’d be so warm, so soft and she’d wrap around my cock so perfectly, her body milking the cum from my balls as she came.

  “While we were gone, I thought of you here in our bed, using this plug all by yourself,” Parker told her. “Was it hard to put the largest one in?”

  “At first. It just took a little while,” she admitted.

  Parker groaned. “Thinking about you here, talking deep breaths as you pushed it in slowly. I’m going to come just thinking about it. You’re going to show us just how you did it.”

  She must have realized that it would please us, or that she held power over us with her body, for she took two fingers and coated the plug with the slick lubrication. Pulling her knees back toward her chest, she moved the plug into position, pressing it against her puckered rosette.

  Someone could have knocked on the door. Hell, a tornado could have taken the house away and neither Parker nor I would have known. Just watching Mary fill herself with that plug, fuck. It didn’t go in easily, but Mary breathed through it, pushing then pulling it back, then pushing again until it stretched her wide, then popped into place.

  Her feet fell to the bed and she sighed. I stared. She’d taken the largest plug, which meant she could take our cocks. We could claim her as ours… finally.

  “Good girl,” Parker said once she was done. He tested the seating of the plug and she moaned. Her blush spread from her cheeks, down her neck and over her breasts. A slight sheen of sweat coated her skin. Satisfied, he gave the plug a light swat, eliciting a gasp from her lips. “Stand by the side of the bed. Bend over so your forearms are supporting you.”

  Carefully, she shifted and moved from the bed. Once she was standing, Parker took a pillow and placed it at the edge so that when she leaned forward, the extra height lifted her ass in the air and into the perfect position.

  Her cheeks were flushed, her hair was half dry and curling wildly down her back. Her nipples were tight little peaks and her eyes were lust-filled.

  “We’ve married a naughty girl,” Parker said, stroking his cock. “She likes that plug in her ass, Sully. Are you ready for my cock to claim you there?”

  Mary eyed Parker’s tight grip on his shaft, how he stroked it, rubbing the pearly drop of fluid into the head with longing. She whimpered. “Yes.”

  Parker stood and stroked a hand over her smooth flesh. I came about and saw the plug’s handle parting her cheeks, her pussy directly beneath it on perfect display. “Then let’s get this ass nice and pink first.”

  With a hand on her back, Parker guided her so she was in just the right position.

  I groaned, cock in hand. My balls tightened and I squeezed around the thick crown trying not to come from just looking at her. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. We love that you’re such a naughty girl. Our naughty girl.”

  Parker’s hand cupped one side of her ass before he lifted it. She tensed, knowing what was coming, but still gasped when his palm connected. An instant handprint appeared, brilliantly pink next to white.

  “Parker!” she cried, glancing over her shou
lder at us. Her hands were clenched tightly in the blanket.

  He grinned. “Like that, do you?”

  She narrowed her eyes and glared. “Yes, and you know it.”

  He spanked her again, in a white spot that was just begging for color. “Enjoy it all you want, but don’t come.”

  Parker took her to task then, spanking her slowly but methodically.

  “How much does she like it?” I asked. Parker moved his hand away and I immediately slid my fingers over her folds. I could see they were wet, but feeling that slick heat, sliding two fingers inside her and having her walls clench down was almost too much to bear. Mary moaned and tossed her head back in obvious need, but I couldn’t give it to her. There was a lesson here she needed to learn first, so I pulled my hand away.

  “She’s dripping,” I said, my voice gruff with my own need.

  “Please,” Mary gasped.

  Parker gave her another spank. “What do you want?” he asked.

  “You.”

  That word. God, that word. It was ruthless and sweet, tempting and perfect. Perhaps Parker was made of sterner stuff, for he said, “Not yet.”

  He spanked her some more and it quickly became clear that Mary was on edge. She could come from a spanking alone, although the plug in her ass certainly helped. Her body was so sensitive, so responsive to us. She wanted everything we did with her.

  “I… I need. I can’t stop—”

  Parker lifted his hand away. “You can. You will. You may not come.”

  “Why?” she cried. Tears slid down her cheeks. Her hair was mostly dry now and clung to her face and back in a sweaty tangle.

  “Do you need us?”

  “Yes!”

  “Are you frustrated?”

  Mary sobbed then, tried to turn, but I put a hand on her back. We were at the crux of our lesson now and it was time she knew I was just as involved in this as Parker. He’d spanked her, but this was about all of us.

  “Of course I am. You won’t let me come!”

  “This is how we felt, sweetheart, when you left the note,” I said. “When we knew you went alone. We were so frustrated.”