Their Reluctant Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 6)

He pushed my knees apart and then tugged at the end of the plug. I clenched down on the object even though I knew I had to relax to have it removed.

“Breathe, baby.”

Tyler slowly pulled on it and I groaned as it widened, stretching me open, then hissed as it slid free. Tyler’s finger pressed against my opening and slipped the tip of it into me.

“It worked well,” Tyler commented. Xander moved to glance over his shoulder. “She’s stretched nicely. I can slip my finger in, no problem.”

That was a problem. I didn’t want these two thinking that hole was an option, at least for a long while until I adjusted to the idea, to the feel of the plugs. They could fill my pussy all they wanted. In fact, I wished they’d pull out their big cocks and take me on the table.

“Tyler,” I whined, embarrassed.

Tyler slipped his finger free and Xander handed him a damp cloth. He wiped me intimately, the warm water cleaning the dried seed from my skin. Just the feel of the cloth against my folds and over my clit had me shift my hips.

“Eager, are we?” Tyler asked, that grin making him look so handsome. “Xander, hand me the razor and soap.”

Xander handed him a shaving cup, a brush inside, and set a razor on the table beside me.

“Tyler’s going to shave your pussy, sweetheart. Get you nice and bare and smooth.”

I frowned and tried to come up onto my elbows. “Why?”

“Because it’s going to be so much more sensitive when we put our mouths on you. Trust us, sweetheart, you’re going to love it.” Xander’s words didn’t alleviate my confusion, but I didn’t have time to argue. Tyler applied thick soap to the hair between my thighs, the bristles of the soft brush tickling my skin.

“Don’t move. I don’t want to nick this pretty pink flesh,” Tyler said, holding the straight razor up for me to see just before he pulled my skin taut and shaved a small area bald. Again and again he did it, wiping the razor clean as he went.

When done, he stepped away and left Xander to look his fill, to stroke a finger over the bare skin. It was smooth, soft and just as sensitive as he’d said. Swiping his finger through the folds, he brought it to his mouth and licked it clean.

“Like honey, sweetheart.”

I was wet and watching him suck my juices from his finger only made me wetter. He was so carnal, so virile I wanted him to take me again.

“Let’s get you dressed before we fuck you here on the table and make you all dirty again.” He held out his hand and helped me up and off the table.

“I will need to get my clothes from home,” I said, remembering that I had nothing but the one dress.

“Home is with us now, baby,” Tyler commented. “We’ll stop and collect your things on the way.”

Tyler tossed Xander my dress and he helped me into it, did the buttons for me.

“I need my corset,” I said, when I realized I was only wearing my slip with my dress.

Xander finished up the remainder of the buttons, then cupped my breasts through the material. “Not today. We want easy access. It’s a long ride. We may want to stop and fuck you on the way. To take the edge off our needs until we get you home and in bed. Our bed.”

The idea had my folds getting damp.

“I like breasts, baby.” Tyler tugged me to him and he wrapped his arm about my waist, holding me tight. I was being manhandled, bandied about between the two of them like a toy. Perhaps I was to their baser needs. I should have felt embarrassed about this as I did when they played with my ass, but I didn’t. It felt… good. I hadn’t had the attentions—good attentions—of a man before. Now I was the center of two men’s attentions. They wanted me. There was no doubt. The difference between these two and Frank was that they weren’t just taking. They were giving in return. In fact, I’d had many more orgasms than them. Combined.

“I like nipples. I like seeing your nipples all tight and hard.” Tyler pushed me back and took his own turn cupping them. He could feel that my nipples had indeed tightened at their words. He growled. “You’re bewitching.” He swatted my bottom gently.

“Breakfast,” Xander said, his voice almost a cranky growl. It seemed none of us wanted to join the others for the meal, instead eager for each other.

Tyler was wrong though. I wasn’t the one who’d done the bewitching.

CHAPTER SEVEN

TYLER

“We weren’t expecting you,” Mason said, opening the door wide for us to enter. We’d walked the distance to his house—with Brody and their wife, Laurel—where the group congregated for the meals. As Kane, Ian and Emma had the biggest kitchen, it was usually served at their house—the house we’d been staying in—but had relocated for the duration.