Their Christmas Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 5)

"Tell us, sweetheart, what were your thoughts?"

I bit my lip to keep from responding.

Quinn's eyebrow went up. "It's going to be like that, is it?" His voice was smooth and clear, but filled with illicit promise. My nipples tightened beneath my corset and I was fortunate enough that they were hidden beneath my corset so the men couldn't see. "You can't keep secrets from your men, Allison."

He lifted his hand and showed me the handcuffs dangling from two fingers.

I frowned. "What—"

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"You've been a bad girl, angel."

I shook my head as Porter took hold of one of my wrists, Quinn the other. I fought against their grips, but even though their holds were gentle, I couldn't break free. Quinn wrapped one side of the handcuffs around one wrist, then the other, the clink of the metal loud in the small room.

"I thought you wanted me to be your wife...no, you can't arrest me and leave me like this. I'm not wearing a dress!"

Both men paused. "Leave you?" They shook their heads in unison. "We're not going anywhere, we're just tired of you holding back and resisting. We are your husbands now and as I said, no secrets."

Porter lifted my wrists up and over my head, higher and higher so my arms were stretched out above me, until he hooked the chain of the handcuffs over my head on a hook on an iron bar. I tugged, but felt no give.

"What are you doing?" All I could do was shift from foot to foot, turning only slightly.

"We want answers, angel," Porter replied. "The faster you give them to us, the faster we will make you come."

I hadn't heard that word before, but I knew what he meant. I flushed hotly at the very thought. It had been my dream to have them bring me to pleasure instead of doing it myself.

"Ah, she knows to what we speak," Quinn added. "What did you imagine about being with us?"

I shook my head, my lips pursed tightly together.

Porter's hands worked the corset hooks loose, one at a time until he dropped the garment onto the floor. My breasts were small but with my hands above my head, they were thrust outward and the thin chemise couldn't hide my tight nipples or the upper swells. With my arms trapped, they couldn't pull the straps down and I felt relieved to know I would remain covered.

So far, neither man had touched me skin to skin, except when Porter held my hand or the brief kiss during the ceremony. Now though, both men's hands ran up and down my arms, over the thin chemise to my hips and lower still to the exposed strip of thigh above my stockings and below the edge of my drawers. The intimate touch was startling and I gasped.

"Did you imagine our hands on you like this? Undoing the tiny ribbons here at the top of your stockings? Sliding our hands behind your knees and calves? Taking off your boots to see your dainty feet?"

They commented on their actions step by step and I could do nothing but watch their lowered heads and feel their combined hands at work.

I couldn't help the sigh that slipped from my lips. I'd wanted and needed this for so long. Having two men kneel before me—not just any two men, but Quinn and Porter—made my core weep in readiness for them. I'd felt it when I'd touched myself in the past and could feel it now in the way my drawers clung to my folds.

Porter's hands slipped up under the hem of my chemise and tugged at the ribbon of my drawers. With the garment loose at my waist it slipped down to pool whisper soft on top of the growing pile.

Quinn stood to his full height while Porter remained on his knees.

"We have ways to get you talk," Quinn prodded.

I arched a brow almost saucily. "You can't get my chemise off with my arms up."

Quinn's brow matched mine, but his grin was of triumph. With a quick tug of his hand, the narrow strap of my chemise ripped, causing the fabric to droop low and expose my left nipple. I gasped and tried to squirm. He shook his head as he reached up and tore the other strap as well. I felt the cool slide of the linen down my body.

"Lord, woman, you are beautiful," Porter growled.

I squirmed again, my modesty losing against their heated stares.

"I've been imagining your body, how soft your skin would be, the heft of your breasts, the swell of your hip, the scent of you." Porter moved his face so that his breath fanned over the dark hair that covered my womanhood. "Here."

"My...my scent?" I looked down my naked body at Porter, whose eyes were almost black now.