Their Reluctant Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 6)

“We told you that we’d fuck you. What Tyler didn’t say was how he’d fill your pussy with his cock and pound into you until you came all over it. I didn’t tell you that I’d breach that sweet ass of yours, shooting my seed deep inside so that you’d be dripping all day from both holes.”

I gasped at the crude language and my inner muscles clenched at the picture he painted. I’d had no idea a man would put his… his cock in a bottom. I’d assumed fucking meant fumbling beneath the covers in the dark, my nightgown bunched up around my waist, just as Frank had done. Mr. Tyler would visit my bedroom one night, Mr. Xander the next. Not that. My cheeks heated and my nipples tightened against my corset.

“What we didn’t tell you was what we’d do to you besides fucking,” Mr. Tyler said. I opened my eyes—when had they fallen shut?—and saw that his gaze had darkened, his jaw was clenched tight.

“Other things besides fucking?” I wondered. What else could there be? Kissing? Frank had only rolled on top of me early in our marriage. I’d opened my legs for him and he’d push inside me, rutting, then filling me with his seed. It had been over in a minute or two. Then he began to drink and I’d been quite adept at avoiding him.

“Damn straight,” Mr. Xander said. He looked at me for one short moment, then lowered himself to his knees and began lifting up the long hem of my dress.

I tried to swat his hands away, but he was not to be deterred.

“What are you doing?” I squeaked. It was one thing to agree to marry and… fuck them, but it was another to do it right now.

“I’m going to show you how it’s going to be between us.”

“Yes, but why are you on your knees? Shouldn’t we be in bed? It’s not dark out,” I stammered, my palms pressing against the wood of the door.

He looked up at me and grinned. His teeth were white compared to his tanned skin and dark beard.

“You are a little reluctant after all.”

All of a sudden I was very reluctant.

“Don’t worry, baby, he’s going to make you feel good,” Mr. Tyler said, his voice a smooth timbre. He moved closer. Backed against the door, one man at my feet and the other just beside me, I had nowhere to go.

Mr. Xander’s big hands slid up my calves and knees, then my thighs, pushing the dress up as he went. More and more of me was exposed by each passing second and I shivered at the idea. Mr. Tyler took hold of the bunched-up fabric and held it up at my waist, making my lower half completely visible.

“When we marry, you won’t be wearing these or needing them ever again.” Mr. Xander tugged at the string on my drawers and they slid over my hips and down my legs to pool around my ankles. “Step out.”

“Why?” I breathed.

“Why?” he repeated. “We will want easy access to your pussy, sweetheart.”

He picked up the discarded drawers and put them up on one shoulder, the thin white fabric a stark contrast to his work shirt. A dark, rusty sound escaped his throat as he looked at me… there. I darted a glance at Mr. Tyler, who was also eyeing my body. Cool air brushed against my thighs above the edge of my stockings and my woman’s core was heated from their gazes. Covering myself was a waste of time. I knew with Frank that once a man had focus on intercourse, there was no dissuading. I wasn’t a virgin. I knew what they wanted, what he would do. But, here? I just had to close my eyes, grit my teeth and bear it. I just had to figure out how he was doing to do it on his knees.

“I can smell her arousal from here,” Mr. Xander said.

Smell me?

“Her curls, they’re glistening. She’s wet and we haven’t even touched her yet.”

“I’m not wet,” I countered, embarrassed, trying to cover myself. “Mr. Xander, truly, I bathed just this morning and I don’t smell, nor is my skin still damp.”

“I’m just Xander.” His hands cupped my ass and pulled me toward him. “If you want to be formal about it, you can call me sir, especially when I’m about to lick and finger fuck your sweet pussy. Either will do nicely.”

Lick? I didn’t have time to ponder his words, for his tongue flicked out and over my folds, sliding along them until he circled and circled the little bundle of nerves.

“Oh, dear Lord,” I gasped, my hips bucking. I had no idea a man could—would—do something like this.

“Say his name, baby,” Mr. Tyler whispered, kissing along the side of my neck, nipping at it and then licking the tender spot. “A man likes to hear his name when he’s eating his woman’s pussy.”

Xander’s hand dipped between my thighs to play over my… pussy as he continued to lick and suck at my tender flesh. I gripped his head, tangling my fingers in his hair. I wasn’t sure if it was to push him away or pull him closer.

Slipping a finger inside, he curled it and found a spot that had me crying out. His name came out on a surprised groan.

“Xander.”

His finger slipped free and I felt empty. He lifted his head and looked up at me. His lips and beard glistened. Lifting his hand, he brushed his finger over my lower lip and coated it with my wetness.