Their Stolen Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 7)

They’d been surprised at our marriage, but from what they said, I wasn’t the first to just arrive wed to two of the Bridgewater men. Emma had been—amazingly—bought at an auction by Ian and Kane and married directly after. Elizabeth had been a mail-order bride to a mean man and surreptitiously wed to Ford and Logan instead. Ann had married Robert and Andrew on a ship. All marriages they’d told me about were quick and with quite a tale to go with them.

As for me, I was still getting over the surprise of being married myself. Of the unswerving attention of two men. I was surprised they’d let me be dragged to the kitchen where the lunch was being prepared.

I’d been told all the meals were communal, cooked and served in Emma’s house. When we arrived, introductions were made, but because of the large group, I feared I would not remember everyone’s names for some time. I was the new one though, and they questioned me continuously about myself and then about my men. My men.

“Are you interested in the attentions of other men now, wife?” Mason asked Laurel. “Other men who are claimed by Mary?” While he eyed his wife, he carved a chicken on a large platter. There were three of them to be done and he was making fast work of it.

Laurel smiled at him sweetly. He laughed, knife in hand. “That look gets you spanked, love.”

Spanked? Laurel was spanked too?

She waggled her eyebrows at him. “I know.”

Based on her response, she seemed to like it… and want it. Just like me. I’d been surprised at first when Parker had spanked me, but I’d liked it. No, I’d loved the feel of his hand on me. I’d loved the attention I was receiving. I’d loved the way all thoughts fled my mind and I just focused on Parker and his touch. On Sully and his carnal words.

A baby fussed in a cradle beneath an open window. Laurel’s focus shifted and she went over and picked up the infant.

“Tell us about yourself, Mary. Not your men,” Emma added. She was at the table, a baby in a special chair beside her. The little girl smacked her tiny palms on the table and watched as a green bean fell to the floor. A brown dog, sitting smartly below, snapped it right up. The baby, of course, giggled at the dog.

“If you hadn’t heard, I’m a Millard.”

All the adults in the room—Emma, Mason, Laurel, Ann, and Rachel, or was it Rebecca?—nodded.

“This is like a small town, news spreading so quickly.”

“There aren’t any secrets here,” Ann said. She was helping her toddler son wipe his hands. It seems the children ate before the adults, at least today. It was hard to keep from grabbing a chicken leg and nibbling, for it smelled so good and I was quite famished.

Laurel laughed. “Mmm, how can there be secrets, Mason, if you and Brody fuck me on the front porch?”

Mason lifted his head from his work and grinned. “You were a cranky lass and needed it. If you keep up this tone, you’ll be spanked out there—” he pointed out the back door to the porch, “—while everyone’s eating.”

The smile slipped off Laurel’s face and she looked contrite. Mason winked at her, then went back to slicing the chicken.

I couldn’t tell if the duo was joking or not. Mason would spank her on the back porch of Emma’s house where everyone could see—and hear?

“Yes, I’m quickly seeing that everyone knows everything,” I commented, thinking I needed to ask my men where they’d spank me if they felt the need. “My father owns one of the copper mines in Butte. My mother died when I was little and he was not the most… loving of parents. I was raised a society miss and ultimately expected to make an advantageous match.”

I was handed a slotted spoon and a large bowl and pointed in the direction of the stove. “Thanks—”

“Rebecca,” the woman said.

“Yes, Rebecca.” I turned to the stove and started scooping small red potatoes from the steaming water and placed them in the bowl. “It’s not Boston or New York, but in Butte, society is important nonetheless. So is business. My father made a business arrangement with Mr. Benson and I was the traded commodity.”

“I know Benson. He’s… not very nice,” Mason said, pausing as he cut the chicken.

I could only imagine what he would have said if he hadn’t tempered his words.

“It doesn’t matter now, because I’m married to Sully… and Parker.” I skipped the details of the brothel, for how could I explain it all without seeming either a whore or just downright strange? While it seemed everyone was very open-minded, I wasn’t ready yet to offer all my secrets.

“Sully and Parker, they’re quite the pair,” Laurel said, circling back to the beginning of the conversation.

Parker and Sully came to mind as I put the new potatoes in the bowl. I wasn’t sure if it was the steam or thinking of what they’d done to me this morning that was making me hot all over. Rubbing my legs together, I felt my bare pussy, slick and smooth with no hair. My arousal and their seed coated my folds, the lips of my pussy and it was so noticeable now. Even my ass. Oh God. Sully had coated the plug he’d confiscated from Chloe and carefully worked it inside me.

I’d been up on my knees, cheek pressed into the bed as he’d taken his time. Breathing hard, I’d panted and pushed hard, relaxed as he praised me.

Such a good girl. Breathe. Yes, push back. Ah, you’re opening so nicely. Look how you stretch so well. Think of our cocks sliding in, how it’s going to feel when we take you here.

When the plug had finally been seated inside me, I’d slumped into the bed, adjusting to the strange feel of the foreign object. I felt open and filled. Besides that, I felt… controlled. Every part of me belonged to them. I should have hated it, for Benson would surely control me if we were wed. This was different. So different that I came from Sully’s attentions. The men had been surprised and instead of punishing me, they’d praised me.