Their Reckless Bride (Bridgewater Ménage Series Book 11) Page 6

  I rolled my hips into the hard ground, trying to ease the ache. Her pussy was wet, open and eager for a cock. She’d be tight, completely untried. I needed it.

  Glancing up at Hank who stood above, watching, I knew it wasn’t the time. We’d get her so sated with orgasms she’d have no eagerness to be without us. We’d fuck her, but we’d get a ring on her finger first. It was obvious some fucker had hurt her. We wouldn’t be like him. Like that. We’d give her pleasure, but we’d only take ours when she was ours. We wouldn’t take that pussy until then.

  But I could lap up all her honey and make her call out my name. And so I did. From asshole to clit, I worked her, fingers and tongue, taking her to the brink and stopping. Again and again until she was a sweaty, writhing, begging mess.

  “You like it when I play with your little asshole, don’t you, doll?”

  “Charlie, please!” she cried, her hands tangled in my hair and trying to push my face back between her thighs.

  I chuckled. “Say it.”

  “I like it!”

  “Good girl. Now you can come.”

  One flick of my tongue on her clit and she screamed, gushed all over my chin. If this was how she was from just a little oral play, I didn’t think I’d be able to survive when I got my cock into her. Or when both of us took her at the same time.

  7

  G RACE

  “IF THEY’VE BROUGHT you here, they’ve claimed you,” Emma said, with a sly turn of her mouth. She was a beautiful woman with black hair and striking blue eyes that were only accentuated by the similar color of her dress.

  I paused in my folding of napkins, which I’d never done in my life. The task seemed silly since everyone was going to place them in their laps anyways, but I lived with men with manners no better than wild dogs. Perhaps she took one look at me in the clean pants and shirt I’d taken from Travis and figured I needed a simple task. I could cook quite well actually, since I’d been the one expected to do it, but Father and Travis certainly weren’t worthy of folded napkins.

  I looked to her down the long table. She was slicing strawberries and adding them to a bowl for dessert. Around us were a few women who lived at Bridgewater. Ann, Laurel and Olivia, who were busy with various meal tasks. The scent of roasted chicken made my mouth water.

  After the creek, I’d put on my clean clothes from my saddle bag, pants and shirt I’d stolen from Travis, but not the binding over my breasts. Hank and Charlie had taken one look at the long strip of old fabric and had refused me that. We’d walked the ten minutes to another house, this one belonging to Emma. I’d met her husbands—yes, she had two, Kane and Ian—and the husbands of the other women. They’d gone off with the children, a mix of toddlers and babies yet to walk, to play outside.

  In the hour since we’d arrived to help prepare for dinner, I’d learned quite a bit about Bridgewater. It wasn’t Hank and Charlie’s ranch, but a number of them, everyone working together as a community. The land they owned as a group was vast, and growing. So were the families. With each woman having two men, and Olivia having three, it was no wonder they were having lots of babies. This arrangement was something they’d discovered in some far off country called Mohamir. I hadn’t been out of the Montana Territory, so I’d never heard of it. But most of the men were British military who’d been stationed there, including Charlie. That was why he had a funny accent. He was from England, like Kane and a few of the other husbands I’d met. Laurel’s Mason and Brody and Olivia’s Rhys and Simon.

  What was I doing here? This morning, I’d been taken to Barton Finch and left, as payment. I remembered the feel of his groping hands, the fetid scent of his breath. I knew what real men were like, how they treated women. Oh, Charlie and Hank were bold ones, taking liberties with me. But while I was skittish, they’d had my consent. Barton Finch had not.

  Since then, I’d shot my only living family and left them for the law. I was in a strange place with people who were… nice. I was talking with women who treated me as a friend—a strange situation in itself—about two men who had not only said they’d claimed me, but had touched me carnally and in ways that had brought me amazing pleasure.

  I knew nothing about Charlie. Or much about Hank, for that matter. And yet they’d seen me naked. Touched me naked. Hell, Charlie’d had his head between my thighs and his mouth—

  I closed my eyes. They made me feel like they were truly interested in me. Perhaps it was naïve to consider that, for I knew men to be shallow and only want a woman for one thing. I had no doubt Hank and Charlie wanted me for that one thing, but they hadn’t done it. They hadn’t fucked me. They talked about it. I saw their hard cocks pressed against their pants, but they hadn’t even tried. They’d touched me. Given me pleasure while they’d found no relief.

  It made no sense. I cleared my throat, realized Emma was waiting for me to reply to her comment. “That was a word they used. Claimed.”

  All four of them smiled at me as if it were a good thing, this claiming.

  They were polite, genteel ladies. They were married. Had children. Wore dresses. What these ladies must think of me, how they must wonder how I, a woman dressed like a man, could snag the interest of two handsome, rich men like Hank and Charlie.

  Ann laughed, turning my attention her way. She held up a potato masher and had a firm grip on a large, steaming bowl. “They’re a bossy bunch, the men of Bridgewater. When they see the woman they want, they claim.”

  “Why don’t they just use the right word? I mean, it’s fucking, right?”

  They stared at me wide-eyed, then Emma shook her head. “Well, there is fucking. Definitely, but a whole lot more.”

  “More than fucking?”

  I thought of the claiming they’d done at the creek. Both of them. There had been no fucking involved. I was the only one who’d been naked.

  “Oh, look at your face, I can tell that they’ve already done so,” Laurel added with a laugh. I knew my cheeks were bright pink, for they felt hot.

  “No, they haven’t, I mean… not that.”

  “Fucking?” Emma asked. Her black hair was pulled back in a loose bun on top of her head, but she blew out a breath to move a curl off her forehead.

  I nodded.

  “Just because I look all prim and proper doesn’t mean I don’t say the word, or know what it means,” she replied, setting the bowl on the table before her. “I have two husbands.”

  “I have three,” Olivia said. “Trust me, I know all about cocks and fucking.”

  “Yes, but Hank and Charlie aren’t my husbands,” I countered, not taking the time to think of Olivia surrounded by three men all trying to get their cocks in her.

  “Yet,” Laurel added, passing behind me to put shucked peas into a pot on the hot stove.

  “They’re honorable. They won’t take your virginity until you’re married. Anything else… it’s to show you how much they desire you. They must have shown you what it would be like without their cocks in you,” Emma offered. It was as if she were speaking of the latest styles of hats with her calm tone, not fucking.

  “I married Robert and Andrew the day we met,” Ann said.

  “I woke up naked and in Mason and Brody’s bed the morning after they rescued me from a blizzard,” Laurel added, clearly trying to show me I wasn’t the only one who had men who had touched them carnally and directly after meeting. “While they didn’t fuck me before we married, they did stroke themselves and cum all over me. Marking me.”

  I set my hands on top of the napkins. They didn’t really need to be folded. But I did need to hear these ladies’ stories. I wasn’t as… wild as I’d thought. I wasn’t broken or crazy or a harlot. They eased my mind, a little.

  “I was rescued from a virgin auction, married to Kane and Ian, then fucked within an hour,” Emma said. “What did they do with you, Grace? It can’t be anything we haven’t seen, done or wanted.”

  I looked between them, all eager to hear more. “They touched me.”

&nbs
p; “Your pussy?” Olivia asked. “That feels so good.”

  “Your ass?” Laurel added. “I never imagined liking it, but… I do.” She grinned wickedly.

  I shook my head.

  Emma frowned. “They didn’t touch you?”

  I swallowed, took a deep breath. I was not accustomed to sharing my thoughts and definitely not my feelings. And on this topic? Never. “They touched me and Charlie put his mouth on me. Between my legs.”

  All four of them sighed.

  “But...”

  “Yes?” Laurel asked. Her blue eyes were alit with eagerness.

  “He put his tongue… there. Where you like so much.”

  She all but squealed and clapped her hands together. “Oh, if you liked that, just wait until they open you up with a plug or a cock.”

  “There?” I asked, stupefied.

  All four of them nodded. I squirmed at the possibility, then stilled, realizing I was a little crazy for wanting something so… dark. And yet, Laurel said Mason and Brody fucked her… her ass? And what was a plug?

  “But we’re not married,” I replied. “Surely that’s not proper.” I’d only come to Bridgewater to get away from Barton Finch. To hide. These ladies were talking about fucking and plugs and having cum all over them.

  “You’re claimed,” Emma clarified with a decisive nod. “Same thing. They’re keeping you. And as for proper…” She looked down at the men’s shirt I wore. “You don’t seem the type to be worried all that much about proper.”

  My mouth fell open. “Keeping me?”

  The idea made my heart race. I was wanted. Truly wanted if Hank and Charlie were keeping me. It made no sense though. This was all happening so fast, in less than a day. I didn’t even want to think about how they’d feel about me when they knew who I really was. But I wasn’t my family. Yes, I shared the same name, but I hadn’t robbed a bank. I hadn’t killed anyone, let alone hurt them. I wanted to be claimed or kept or married by a man. I hadn’t considered two men until now. And yet, the idea had merit. I felt things with them I never imagined. Not just the pleasure they wrung from my body, but safety. Comfort. I felt cherished. Wanted.

  “Look at me! Like you said, I don’t even look very feminine. I don’t even own a dress.”

  Laurel smiled, came by and patted my shoulder. “If Charlie’s licked your virgin asshole, then he’s seen you out of your clothes. Trust me, they all like their women better without clothes. They’d keep us naked if they could.”

  The other women nodded their agreement.

  I stared at them all, wide-eyed. Somehow, this was so much more than I’d expected. Never did I imagine I’d be talking about something so… so dark and intimate with a group of ladies. A passage from the Bible perhaps or even a recipe for peach pie. But being licked in such a place?

  Hank and Charlie were so much more than I imagined. I didn’t want to be stuck with two bossy men. I had just shot two. “I met them earlier today. They couldn’t possibly—”

  “We couldn’t possibly what?” Hank asked, coming in through the open back door. He had a little boy in his arms. Around three or so, he seemed thrilled to be carried. I noticed then he had Hank’s tin star pinned to his little shirt.

  “Shewiff Hank made me depty!” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

  With a ruffle to the top of his curly head, Hank set the boy down. The child ran to his mother, Ann, who gave him a kiss on top of his head. Seemingly content with that loving gesture, he ran back toward the door.

  Charlie had entered as well, but stepped out of the boy’s path and grinned down as he dashed by. My heart rolled over at the sight of those two with the boy. Neither had blond hair, but I could imagine them with a child of their own. A boy with dark hair like Hank or red like Charlie. They’d teach him to shoot, to catch frogs, to be protective of baby sisters… fuck, I was dreaming too much. But they were good men. I knew it. I felt it. They would be good fathers. They definitely wouldn’t be like mine.

  “What couldn’t we possibly want, sweetheart?” he’d asked again, not forgetting the question.

  “You couldn’t possibly want to… to marry me.”

  Hank’s open expression narrowed, focused on me. His jaw clenched. Charlie crossed his arms over his chest. “Why ever not?”

  A laughed then. “Look at me.” I waved my hand toward the other women. “Look at them. Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

  “Why are you?” Charlie countered. “We aren’t marrying you for your pants. Besides, you weren’t wearing them down by the creek.”

  I flushed hotly, even though I’d been just speaking about what we’d been doing down by the creek.

  He grinned. Winked.

  “We claimed you,” Hank stated plainly, as if that explained it all.

  “See?” Emma asked.

  I didn’t look her way, but kept my gaze fixed on Hank.

  “Yes, but I’m just here with you to—”

  Charlie quirked a brow. “Just here to what?”

  Hell and damnation. I couldn’t tell them the truth. “I just… I just met you and you’re talking marriage. It wasn’t like Charlie gave me any option to come here when he tossed me over his shoulder,” I grumbled.

  The ladies chuckled, obviously not surprised by their stubbornness. I had to wonder how many of them had been carried about like a sack of potatoes by one of their men.

  Hank grinned and came to stand beside me. He was so much taller and I had to tip my head back to look up at him. The way he looked at me, so different than earlier, made his features soften. Oh, his jaw was still square and sharp, his nose still long and straight, his brow prominent, but it was his dark eyes that now held… warmth. It made me soften just a little, too. “Sweetheart, you want it, too.”

  I frowned, those soft edges gone. Not one to be told my mind, I countered, “I met you this morning.”

  “Yes, but you want us enough to spread those thighs and let Charlie lick your pussy. I had my fingers inside you, felt your maidenhead that we’ll be taking later. You wouldn’t have let just anyone do that.”

  I sputtered at his talk in front of the other women. “No, of course not.”

  “You’d allow it for your husbands,” he continued.

  The women remained silent, but they were smiling.

  “Yes, but—”

  Hank grinned wickedly. “Good.”

  I stared at him. Wide-eyed. How had I been talked around to marriage? “I’m not marrying you!”

  I’m just staying at Bridgewater until I figured out how to deal with Barton Finch. What I’d done with Hank and Charlie didn’t mean I wanted them forever. Did it? Just because my body had responded so intensely… it didn’t mean… what did it mean?

  “We’ll have a shootout,” he offered. “You, me, Charlie. If one of us wins, we marry.”

  I stood and they stepped back. I paced the room. For the first time in my life, I wanted to cry. Not because of them, but because of me. “I’m surprised you touched me earlier.”

  I turned and looked up at both of them. They had matching frowns. “Why is that, love?” Charlie asked in that smooth accent of his.

  “Because you can’t be attracted to me. Look at me.” I pointed to my pants, then my shirt. Travis’ clothes. The clothes of a man who’d planned on killing both of them. “You didn’t even ask me to marry, you made it a wager.”

  “Do you want us to get on bended knee?” Hank asked.

  I rolled my eyes, tossed up my hands. “I don’t know! But I just don’t understand why you want me.”

  The men glanced over my shoulder, and I watched as the ladies quietly went outside. Once we were alone, Hank stepped close, cupped my jaw and rubbed my cheek with his thumb. The touch was intimate and gentle, and I couldn’t help but tilt my head into the caress.

  “It’s not because you saved our lives,” Hank said.

  “It’s not because your pussy takes like sweet honey,” Charlie added. Hank turned his head and stared at him. “
What? I’m not marrying her for that, but I won’t mind tasting it every day for the rest of my life.”

  Hank shook his head in disbelief, but he didn’t disagree.

  “We want to marry you because we knew the instant we saw you up on that bluff, gun smoking by your side,” Hank said.

  “You thought I was a man.”

  “My cock knew. There’s nothing you could be except all woman. Pants and all.”

  “We want you because you’re not all fancy and prim,” Charlie added. “We want you because you’re a little wild. Untamed.”

  “You spanked me because of that,” I reminded.

  “I spanked you because you swear like a bunch of randy ranch hands.” He paused. “Sometimes there’s no explanation why a man wants a woman. Why she’s The One. It’s just… lightning.”

  Lightning. Out of everything they said, that made the most sense. It was completely ridiculous, but so was what I was beginning to feel for these two in such a short time. I couldn’t believe how I reacted, how I responded when all I’d had before them was hate and anger toward men.

  Charlie took my hand, lifted it to his mouth and kissed the knuckles. The gesture was sweet and yet it made my nipples pebble. His green gaze was fierce. “We don’t know much about each other, but time will fix that. I grew up in a London orphanage. It was… worse than anything you could imagine. I escaped by entering the military. There, I found a family of sorts. A band of brothers, but I longed for a wife. Children of my own. But I had nothing. No money, no way to support and care for a wife properly. I came here to America, to Bridgewater, to build that dream.”

  He turned our hands over so I could see his scarred knuckles and I felt the thick callouses against my palm. “I worked hard and built the means to support a family. But I hadn’t found the right woman.”

  He kissed my knuckles again, rolled my hand over and kissed the inside of my wrist. The brush of his lips there had me gasp, for it was just as intimate as when he had his head between my thighs.

  “Until you.”

  The words were powerful, but it was the intent gaze, the honesty I saw in his expression. He wanted me. He wanted a life with me. And yet, I’d only intended to come to Bridgewater to hide from Barton Finch.