Their Brazen Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 8)

“Oh God. I need more. Please,” I begged. The rough feel of Gabe’s palms against my tender skin sent goose bumps racing across my skin.

“Yes, ma’am,” Tucker said. It seemed he liked saying that when he was eager to please. The way his tongue worked my swollen flesh, he was very eager.

His tongue was hot and talented, circling my little pleasure nub. It was so incredibly different than when I touched myself, for Tucker seemed to know just where to flick, just how hard to suck to have me gasp. He’d retreat, taking one fold into his mouth then nipping on it. It was a combination of sharp little bites of pain followed by hot flicks. Hot and sharp. Again and again.

That was just Tucker’s ministrations. Gabe played with my breasts, tested their weight, plumped the heavy flesh before working and tugging on my nipples. Gently at first, adding little pinches, then harder.

“She likes a little pain,” Gabe told Tucker, biting at my neck followed by laving it with his tongue.

“Yes, she just dripped all over my mouth.”

“Have you ever come before?” Gabe whispered in my ear as he licked along the dainty swirl.

I licked my lips. “Yes,” I whispered.

Tucker’s mouth stilled on me. “From a man?” I felt his breath fan my sensitive flesh.

I shook my head, leaned back against Gabe’s shoulder.

Tucker grunted in response and slipped a finger up and into my untried passage. I went up onto my tiptoes, which only made my nipples go taut between Gabe’s fingers.

“You’ll come for us, precious. We want to see your pleasure. After that, we’ll fuck you.”

Tucker moved his mouth away to speak and I whimpered. He licked up my inner thigh while his finger continued to curl and slide in and out of me. The stretch and slight burn of the single digit had me wondering if I could actually take them inside me. From the thick bulge I’d seen in Tucker’s pants earlier, I had to question the act.

“She’s so tight,” Tucker said.

Gabe’s hips pressed into my lower back, and I felt the hard outline of his cock. No, it wouldn’t fit. Surely not.

“Please,” I begged again.

They would know what to do if it couldn’t work. It felt too good to keep wondering. I was so close, so lost to their hands and mouth. My skin was slick with sweat; my breath escaped in little pants. I couldn’t move, held in place by Gabe’s hands and Tucker’s finger inside me.

“Your clit is all hard. The hood is pulled back.” He flicked his tongue over it, and I jerked in Gabe’s hold. “So sensitive. It’s time to come, precious.”

Yes, please.

Tucker’s tongue circled my clit, over and over, pushing me higher and higher. Gabe’s fingers pinched my nipples, only slightly, but when Tucker sucked on my clit, his tongue working it around and around, Gabe pinched harder.

I shattered, crying out, my body shaking and shifting in their hold. The pleasure was so intense, I didn’t feel as if my body was mine anymore. I was floating, flying. Soaring.

Gabe released my nipples but continued to cup my breasts, holding them gently. Tucker lapped at my swollen flesh, but was just as tender, allowing me to come down from my pleasure.

“Oh my,” I breathed. “It was never like that when I did it to myself.”

“You made yourself come, did you?” Tucker asked, his voice deep and dark. Husky.

“So beautiful,” Gabe murmured. “You come easily, so responsive. For us.”

Tucker sat back on his heels and used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. Even through half-lidded eyes, I held his pale gaze, remaining quiet.

“Tell us, precious. You pleasure yourself?”

Gabe’s hands slipped down my body to cup my waist.

“Yes.” I couldn’t lie. Didn’t want to. Not about this. They didn’t seem upset I’d done so. Didn’t call me anything but brazen. I liked it, especially since they were the only two who knew such a thing about me.

“How?” Gabe asked. One of his hands slid down over my curls and cupped my pussy. “Do you touch yourself here?” His other hand slid down over my bottom and lower still to that forbidden place. He tapped the untried hole once, then twice. “Here?”