Their Stolen Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 7)

“Where did you watch?” Sully asked, his voice deeper than I’d heard before. Commanding.

Compelled to respond, I pointed to the wall where a hideous painting of a bowl of fruit hung off kilter.

Sully skirted the table and lifted the artwork from the wall to reveal a small hole. Bending down—it was created for much shorter interlopers—he put his eye up to it. I could only imagine what he was seeing in the parlor. After a minute, he stood and moved out of the way, letting Parker take a peek. He groaned at whatever was happening.

He turned from the hole and looked down at me, grinning wickedly. “You were curious about what you saw? Enough to come back more than once. Admit it, sweetheart. There is no shame.”

“Yes.” I could lie, but it would be pointless.

“Are you curious enough to try the things you saw, now that you’re married?”

I turned away, paced across the room, saw that the cabbage was boiling too heavily and adjusted the flame beneath.

“Mary,” Parker prompted, my delay obvious.

I stood and spun to them, my nerves getting the best of me. “I don’t know how to answer. Either way and you’ll think less of me.”

Sully came around the table, pushing one of the chairs in as he went. “How so?”

I lifted my hands, let them fall. “If I tell you I’m curious, that I liked what I saw, then you’ll think me a loose woman. If I tell you I don’t like any of it, you’ll think me frigid.”

Sully closed the remaining distance between us and pulled me in for another hug. I felt his chin rest on top of my head, felt his deep breath. I had no idea such an intense man would be one to coddle. It felt good to be held, to be offered reassurance and comfort from the simple gesture.

“You are not frigid,” he replied. “You’re spirited and fiery and that kiss… it didn’t feel cold to me.”

That’s true, it was anything but cold.

“Go peek and see what’s happening in the other room,” Sully said. He squeezed me once, then let me go.

Taking a deep breath, I went to the peephole. I knew it looked into the small room beside the parlor, brightened by lamps and plenty of red velvet to make it bold. Comfortably lying on his back on the settee was a man; one knee was bent and a foot rested on the floor beside a woman’s rumpled drawers. I couldn’t see his face because Amelia was sitting atop it. Right on top of it! Her breasts were lifted out of her corset so her nipples were exposed. Her head was back, her eyes closed and her lips parted as the man put his mouth on her… there. He gripped her hips and held her in place so he could lick her pussy.

I gasped. This was not something I’d seen before.

“I’d like to do that to you,” Parker murmured. He stood directly behind me—I hadn’t heard him approach—and I startled, pulling my eye away from the hole. With his palms on either side of my head, I wasn’t going anywhere. Against my lower back I felt his cock, hard and thick.

“Keep watching. I want you to sit on my face just like that so I can eat your pussy. I want to know your taste, swallow down every bit of your cream. I want to make you scream your pleasure.”

My pussy ached as I watched the carnal sight. The man was proficient at his task, for while he held her hips securely with his hands, she undulated on top of him, crying out with abandon.

“I’ll push down your corset so I can suck one plump nipple into my mouth, then the other as Parker uses his tongue on your little clit.” Sully came to the side of me and whispered in my other ear.

They spoke as I continued to watch as the man shifted Amelia forward, her hands grabbing onto the back of the settee for support, her thighs quivering. Chloe had said she sometimes pretended to enjoy herself; Amelia definitely wasn’t acting.

“Your cheeks are flushed, your breath is quick. You want us to touch you like that,” Parker said.

A hand stroked down my back. I wasn’t sure whose hand it was, but it changed the experience of watching a couple in such a carnal union. I could feel what I was seeing, too. A hand tugged at my long dress, up and up it went until I felt fingers graze my stocking, then play with the edge of it, just touching my bare thigh.

I gasped, not only from the touch, but because the woman screamed her pleasure then. My pussy ached for its own fulfillment.

The door to the kitchen swung open and the hem of my dress fell to the floor. Sully turned and faced the person, shielding me. Parker retreated. Panicked, I spun about, my back pressed against the wall and glanced up at Parker. I felt like a child eating a slice of birthday cake before the party. Instead of scolding, he smiled at me, then winked. How just a smile eased my tension, I had no idea.

The person must have realized they’d interrupted something, for their footsteps retreated.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t fuck you on the table with a bowl of cabbage beside you,” Parker commented. “Shall we go upstairs instead?”

Sully turned so I was once again between the two of them, a spot they seemed to enjoy placing me. I couldn’t deny my eagerness. I could only nod as the feelings coursing through me could only be alleviated by these men.

CHAPTER FIVE