Their Reckless Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 11)

She stiffened at the question, pur

sed her lips. “I was riding by and saw the men pointing their guns at you. It’s hard to miss the star on your chest.” She tilted her head toward the badge on Hank’s shirt. “They needed to be stopped.”

“And you decided to do that. You have pretty good aim.”

“I don’t miss.”

She’d answered, so it was time for a reward. Leaning forward, I put my mouth on a nipple and sucked, even through the damp fabric.

Gasping, she tugged at my hair. I wasn’t sure if the slight pain was to pull me away or to hold me in place. “What are you, oh god.”

I grinned, then gave the berry tip a little tug before I sat back on my heels again.

She stared at me wide-eyed and a little confused.

“No one’s touched you before, have they?” Hank asked.

That wasn’t my next question, but I did want the answer.

She shook her head. “No.” The one word came out on a whisper. “Why… why are you doing this?”

“This is us giving thanks,” I said, probably only adding to her growing confusion as I reached up and tugged the wet bathing towel from her fingers. It lowered to her waist, caught there on her damp skin. She was bare to the waist and lovely. Fuck, stunning.

“By seeing me naked?” she screeched, her arm going across her chest once again to cover herself. Slowly, I reached up and lowered it, then held both her hands out at her sides so we could look at her.

She was skittish, nervous even, but she wasn’t fighting like a woman who didn’t want it. She might argue with us, but she wasn’t fearful or screaming no. There was no panic, only the last vestige of her bravado. She wanted it, but didn’t know exactly what it was.

“By making you come,” I clarified.

“Come?” she questioned.

Oh fuck. I looked up at her, the way a little V formed in her brow, the way her full lips pursed. A pretty pink flushed her cheeks and I wiped away a drop of water from her cheek. She had no idea to what I spoke, which meant she was a virgin in all ways. As if she’d been tucked away in a French convent instead of gallivanting across the Wild West.

She might have made a practice of bathing in a creek, but had done so alone. No longer. We’d see every inch of her. Touch her. Kiss her, lick her. Taste her. And soon enough, fuck the prickliness right out of her.

I wanted to ask her more questions, but they could wait. I had a naked, virginal woman standing before us. It was time to discover what she liked, what made her hot. What made her scream our names.

I looked at her, saw her staring back at me through her dark lashes. Waiting. Barely breathing. With my hands on her hips, I pushed the sodden bath sheet down until it fell to the ground at her feet.

I couldn’t help but groan when her pussy was revealed. While she had a dark thatch of hair on her mound, it couldn’t hide her plump pussy, the hint of her inner lips peeking out or the hard, pink pearl that was swollen and eager for us. Droplets of water slid down her inner thighs, but I knew she’d be slick with arousal, too.

“Charlie!” she cried, glancing from me to Hank and back. I liked my name from her lips, but I longed to hear it in a different tone, when she was breathless and screaming it in her pleasure.

Hank stepped up behind her, banded an arm about her waist, held her firmly against his chest, one hand cupping a plump breast. She began to resist then, for he’d been the one earlier to spank her sweet ass and toss her in the creek.

“Shh, let him look,” he murmured in her ear, then kissed the delicate swirl.

“But—” she began.

“We won’t hurt you, love,” I said, my hands sliding up and down her thighs in a reassuring gesture. Her damp skin was silky smooth, and I felt the firm tone of her muscles tense and quiver. “You’re safe with us. Your body knows it even if your mind is resisting.”

“I’ve never—”

“We know,” Hank said, his nose nuzzling down the line of her neck. She probably didn’t even realize when she tipped her head to give him better access. He brushed her wet hair to the side and over one shoulder. I watched as beads of water dripped from the ends and slid down her breast.

Goose bumps broke out over her damp skin and she shivered. She couldn’t be cold, not with both of us touching her, the heat of the sun quickly drying her. With my palms still on her thighs, my thumbs settled at her center, stroking over her pussy. She gasped, jerked in Hank’s hold. As I touched, then parted her so I could see her very center, Hank whispered words of encouragement, told her specifically—and plainly—what I was doing, all the while licking and nipping at her ear.

A whimper escaped her lips.