Their Treasured Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 4)

Dash shook his head slowly. "Nay, lass. Ye are so lovely we wish to see all of ye."

I swallowed. "I'm...I'm afraid."

"Ah lass," Connor whispered in my ear. "I'm proud of ye for telling us yer feelings."

"Do ye wish for us to disrobe first?" Dash asked.

My eyes widened. "You're going to be naked, too? You want to show me your bodies?" Heat flooded through me, but the idea didn't settle my nerves.

"Aye, we are going to be naked, lass, and nay, we were nae taught to be modest with our bride."

I felt Connor step back; the heat from his body was gone. Dash moved his hands from my collar to the belt at his waist. He undid it with deft fingers and opened the placket of his pants. I stepped back, not prepared for his bold and immodest action. Shifting his hips,

he reached into the opening of his pants and he pulled out his...oh dear Lord!

It was long and thick and a ruddy red color. Dash held it securely within his fist at the base and the top of it was wide like a crown and with a small hole in the center, it seeped clear fluid. His fist slid up the length and his thumb extended up and over the top to wipe the liquid away. It was unbelievably large and it was supposed to go inside of me? I retreated another step as I darted a glance up to Dash's eyes. His lids were lowered halfway and he was watching me in a way that had me licking my lips. He wasn't naked, but he might as well have been.

Connor's actions had my head turning toward him. Instead of undoing his pants, he'd unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor, all the while his eyes were on mine and he winked. Winked! He was so relaxed and at ease with what we were doing that he winked as he removed his clothes, piece by piece. His shoulders were broad and curved with muscle. His chest had dark hair on it. While my nipples were plump and full, his were dusky-colored, flat disks. His stomach was flat and well defined with a narrow waist. The hair merged into a V at his navel and then into a line that went into the top of his pants. There I could clearly see a bulge pressing against the front placket.

Glancing at Dash's...member then back, I could only assume Connor was as equally large or possibly larger. Connor grinned wickedly and didn't hesitate to toe off one boot, then another before undoing his belt, the front of his pants and lowering them to the floor. He stepped out of them, and then stripped off his socks to stand tall once again. He was completely naked—and he looked like Michelangelo’s David I'd seen in books.

I couldn't help the quick intake of breath at the sight of him.

"These are cocks, sweetheart," Dash said as I kept my eyes transfixed on Connor. His hand grasped his...cock now as well and they were stroking them. Did Connor's just get larger?

"They are...," I cleared my throat. "They are quite large."

Connor's grin widened. "Your turn, lass."

I was given a reprieve by a knock on the door. Connor turned to answer it, clearly unconcerned he was naked. "What are you doing?" I whispered, my sense of decorum stronger than my ingrained behavior to not question and dashed to the door and leaned against it, preventing him from opening it.

"What?" Connor asked as he stood before me. "Tis only your trunk being delivered from town."

"You can't answer the door like that," I hissed, my cheeks flaming.

"Verra well," he replied, so I moved away from the door. He reached down to grab his shirt. I thought he was to put it on, but instead he held the article of clothing over himself then opened the door. "Quinn, come in."

Connor stepped back as a man as large and burly as my two husbands carried my trunk inside. "I'm interrupting," he said, his voice deep and with an American accent as he took in both men's appearances. "Ma'am." He nodded his head to me in greeting.

I gave a brief head nod, and then turned my back on him, mortified.

"Ack, tis all right. Surely ye've seen a naked man before," Connor commented. Did he not have a modest bone in his body? "May I introduce our bride, Rebecca? Rebecca, this is Quinn. We couldna run the ranch without him."

I glanced at him over my shoulder and the man offered a weak smile and nodded one more time. I tried to smile but the situation was utterly ridiculous. Connor was naked and Dash remained seated with his hand still wrapped around his cock. Thankfully, he had ceased stroking it.

I cleared my throat. "How do you do?" I asked.

"Put it down over there, please," Dash directed.

The man did and went to the open doorway. "There is a second trunk Mr. Arnold offered to deliver tomorrow. What with the supplies and all, there wasn't room for both today. Congratulations on your wedding," he offered. "I will let the others know to give you some time."

"Tomorrow, Quinn. No visitors until tomorrow," Dash called out.

The man nodded as the corner of his mouth tipped up, then left. Connor closed the door and tossed his shirt on the floor. His cock stood erect and curved upward toward his navel. Were they always that hard? How did they ride a horse or walk, even? "Now where were we, sweetheart?" He tapped his chiseled chin with his thumb. He would have looked thoughtful if he hadn't been naked. "Ah yes. It was your turn to remove your clothes."

With shaking fingers, I began to work the buttons down the front of my dress free. The men's eyes watched the progression as I pushed the dress down over my hips and let it drop to my feet. Except for the top swells of my breasts exposed and my bare arms, I remained completely covered.

"You're like shucking an ear of corn. Every time you take something off, there's more underneath," Connor commented. I pursed my lips and stared at him, not very pleased with the comparison.