Their Stolen Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 7)

“Good girl,” Parker said once she was done. He tested the seating of the plug and she moaned. Her blush spread from her cheeks, down her neck and over her breasts. A slight sheen of sweat coated her skin. Satisfied, he gave the plug a light swat, eliciting a gasp from her lips. “Stand by the side of the bed. Bend over so your forearms are supporting you.”

Carefully, she shifted and moved from the bed. Once she was standing, Parker took a pillow and placed it at the edge so that when she leaned forward, the extra height lifted her ass in the air and into the perfect position.

Her cheeks were flushed, her hair was half dry and curling wildly down her back. Her nipples were tight little peaks and her eyes were lust-filled.

“We’ve married a naughty girl,” Parker said, stroking his cock. “She likes that plug in her ass, Sully. Are you ready for my cock to claim you there?”

Mary eyed Parker’s tight grip on his shaft, how he stroked it, rubbing the pearly drop of fluid into the head with longing. She whimpered. “Yes.”

Parker stood and stroked a hand over her smooth flesh. I came about and saw the plug’s handle parting her cheeks, her pussy directly beneath it on perfect display. “Then let’s get this ass nice and pink first.”

With a hand on her back, Parker guided her so she was in just the right position.

I groaned, cock in hand. My balls tightened and I squeezed around the thick crown trying not to come from just looking at her. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. We love that you’re such a naughty girl. Our naughty girl.”

Parker’s hand cupped one side of her ass before he lifted it. She tensed, knowing what was coming, but still gasped when his palm connected. An instant handprint appeared, brilliantly pink next to white.

“Parker!” she cried, glancing over her shou

lder at us. Her hands were clenched tightly in the blanket.

He grinned. “Like that, do you?”

She narrowed her eyes and glared. “Yes, and you know it.”

He spanked her again, in a white spot that was just begging for color. “Enjoy it all you want, but don’t come.”

Parker took her to task then, spanking her slowly but methodically.

“How much does she like it?” I asked. Parker moved his hand away and I immediately slid my fingers over her folds. I could see they were wet, but feeling that slick heat, sliding two fingers inside her and having her walls clench down was almost too much to bear. Mary moaned and tossed her head back in obvious need, but I couldn’t give it to her. There was a lesson here she needed to learn first, so I pulled my hand away.

“She’s dripping,” I said, my voice gruff with my own need.

“Please,” Mary gasped.

Parker gave her another spank. “What do you want?” he asked.

“You.”

That word. God, that word. It was ruthless and sweet, tempting and perfect. Perhaps Parker was made of sterner stuff, for he said, “Not yet.”

He spanked her some more and it quickly became clear that Mary was on edge. She could come from a spanking alone, although the plug in her ass certainly helped. Her body was so sensitive, so responsive to us. She wanted everything we did with her.

“I… I need. I can’t stop—”

Parker lifted his hand away. “You can. You will. You may not come.”

“Why?” she cried. Tears slid down her cheeks. Her hair was mostly dry now and clung to her face and back in a sweaty tangle.

“Do you need us?”

“Yes!”

“Are you frustrated?”

Mary sobbed then, tried to turn, but I put a hand on her back. We were at the crux of our lesson now and it was time she knew I was just as involved in this as Parker. He’d spanked her, but this was about all of us.

“Of course I am. You won’t let me come!”