Their Rebellious Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 10)

Those words, while holding a tinge of danger, somehow warmed me. James would protect me, even from my own father. I felt… good. Happy, even, at the comfort he provided. That he was angry for me. For the first time, I realized how pleased I was to have them beside me. I was safe. I wasn’t in Mr. Grimsby’s large mansion. No henchmen lurked. No one would get to me here, not only on the Carr Ranch, but between James and Jonah.

“I am married to you, so why… why am I in bed with James?” I wondered.

James stiffened for a moment, but kissed the top of my head, squeezed me. “You may be legally wed to Jonah, but you are still mine. I consider myself your husband even though he said the vows. In fact, our intention was for you to be wed to me instead, but I was a few minutes too early to guarantee that. It didn’t matter to the minister my seed lingered on your tongue and was filling your belly, only that Jonah’s cock was in your mouth.”

I looked at Jonah, who didn’t seem bothered I was in James’ arms even though he was the one who’d stood in front of a minister and repeated vows of death do us part. They were adamant I belonged to both of them and being in James’ bed was perhaps a way for them to prove that. It would take some adjusting, being married to two men. Married. This was just what Father had wanted, me wed. Except, they weren’t rich. They were ranchers. I couldn’t ask them for money to go to Fargo, when it was most likely needed for food and supplies. Besides, after what I’d done to James in Butte, I doubted they’d let me out of their sight, let alone travel to North Dakota. They’d watched me put myself in enough tenuous situations… in one day… I doubted they’d let me go track down a dangerous man intent on murdering my sisters.

James ran a hand over my back, the touch gentle, the motion soothing. Dawn had yet to come, and I was in bed with my husbands. Husbands! I looked down at myself.

“Why am I still dressed?” I asked, confused.

I wore the garment I’d donned at Mr. Grimsby’s. Oh, so much had happened. No wonder I’d slept so deeply. Was it because I knew, deep down, I had James beside me, that I could truly rest for the first time in a week?

“We did not have our wedding night,” James commented.

“Yes, a groom likes his bride awake when he sees her body for the first time, and then claims her,” Jonah added.

He was… dear lord, only wearing his pants. No jacket, no shoes, no shirt. His body was lean, but well-muscled. Dark hair was upon his chest, tapering into a line that went into the top of his pants. The placket was open as if he’d hastily dressed.

I’d never seen a man partially clothed before

. I’d seen both of their cocks, had them in my mouth, but they’d remained fully clothed at the time.

I turned to look at James. He lay beside me, propped up on an elbow, both of us above the blanket. He, too, was just in his pants. Where Jonah was fair, James was dark. The hair on his arms was almost black in the low light, his skin tan. They were rugged ranchers. Cowboys. I knew Jonah’s stern commands, his focused spanking, yet his touch had been gentle as he’d helped me climax.

I blushed furiously thinking about how wanton I’d been. I’d all but begged for more. And they’d given it to me.

I’d never felt like that before, and I wasn’t talking about the decadent pleasure. I felt… free, as if these two had let something loose I hadn’t even known had been within. I hadn’t thought of my troubles. I hadn’t thought of what was proper. I hadn’t thought of anything except James and Jonah, giving in to their every demand. And while I’d resisted all day long to such constraint, in this case, it had empowered me.

Set me free.

We were no longer in Butte. Or in a church. No one would interrupt us. Both men had said they wouldn’t claim me until we married. We were now.

I’d imagined what it would be like with my husband, how he’d climb atop me and put himself inside me. At school, my friends had whispered about how it worked, but none of us had any real clue, only that a man’s member went inside a woman. Feelings hadn’t been mentioned. Pleasure had never been a word used.

But after yesterday’s… activities with James and Jonah, being with a man was so much more than I’d ever imagined. Obviously, it wasn’t done just in a bed. It wasn’t always done at night, in the dark. And for me, it wasn’t done with just one man.

It was dark now. It was still my wedding night. I couldn’t forget how they’d made me feel, how they’d looked, sounded, behaved.

I remembered the way I’d taken James’ cock into my mouth. The hot, hard feel of it against my tongue, how it had been so big I’d opened up so wide. The musky taste, the large quantity of his tangy seed I’d had to swallow. While I’d been on my knees, his fingers tangled in my hair guiding me as he wanted, I’d been the one to make him lose control. The calm eagerness in Jonah’s gaze as I’d done the same until we’d been interrupted.

We were married. We could do the things we’d done and more. No one would stop us or question us or think it inappropriate or wrong. I wasn’t a loose woman.

No, I was a married woman. And while these men didn’t have the hefty bank accounts my father had been searching for, they had kindness. Honor. If it weren’t for Ginny and Georgia, money concerns wouldn’t even linger.

But I could do nothing for either of them at the moment.

Being married wasn’t going to change. It was forever. Forever. Was being married to James and Jonah so bad? They were kind, albeit stern. Honorable. Thoughtful. Kind. Handsome. I couldn’t forget that. And they desired me. Blatantly. Thoroughly.

I looked down at the patchwork quilt and bit my lip. “It’s… it’s still our wedding night and… and I’m quite awake now,” I said.

A rumble came from James’ chest that sounded awfully like a growl. I looked to him, his eyes dark, his jaw clenched. The black eye made him look even more rugged, and made my guilt flare. Jonah, all big and broad, stood and held out his hand. Taking it, he helped me from the bed as James lit the other oil lamp, the room growing brighter.

My feet were bare, the wood floor cool.

Looking down, I could see… oh my! The top of Jonah’s cock, all hard and dark colored, poking out from the top of his loose pants.

I gasped and Jonah lifted my chin with his fingers. He looked down at me with those pale eyes and smiled. He had a few lines on his face, a hint of gray at the temples of his wheat colored hair, reminding me of our age difference. Here, now, it mattered not. I desired him and there was no question he was eager for me in return.