Their Treasured Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 4)

"For how long must I remain unclothed?"

"Tomorrow," both Connor and I said at the same time.

"Tis time to tend to you, then dinner." Connor held out his hand. "Come."

We'd befuddled her. Her mouth opened and closed as if she were a fish, no words coming out. As Connor led her to the kitchen, I followed behind and admired the view. Her arse was round and curvy and I remembered the feel of it in my hands, the supple skin. I also remembered the sight of her perfect pussy all slick and dripping with seed, her little rosebud just above it as she was bent over. It had tightened so responsively as I brushed my finger over it, but she'd gasped nae only in surprise, but with awakening, for I knew she'd be sensitive and easily aroused there. Her nipples were verra responsive and she was quite passionate once she forgot to try to be all frigid and modest. It would be a delight to train her arse as well as the rest of her.

The kitchen was large with a kitchen table beneath a large window that offered a view across the prairie and to the mountains in the distance. Connor pulled a chair out of the way and lifted Rebecca up onto the wooden table. She tried to squirm down, but Connor would have none of it.

"I can't sit here naked! This is where you eat."

"Dinna worry, sweetheart, we'll be eating," I told her, my mouth watering for a taste of her pussy.

"Nae only will ye sit here, ye will lie back and put yer feet up," Connor ordered.

"Why are you being like this? I thought you said you were honorable? You're being demanding and pushing your perverted ways upon me." She crossed her arms over her chest as she inched her chin up. Neither action worked to make her seem bossy or superior because her nipples jutted out above her forearms and I could see the dark thatch of hair between her thighs.

"Ye are under a misconception that what we do with yer body is perverted," I said, crossing my own arms over my own chest. Connor moved to stand beside me and she had to look up from her perch on the table to look at us. "Ye are also under the misconception that what we do with yer body is nae honorable. We wed ye, sweetheart. Both of us. We pledged our lives, our wealth, our bodies, everything to ye. If we were nae honorable, we would do all of this and leave you at the brothel in town."

Her mouth fell open at my untarnished words.

"Tis our job to change yer views, to make ye understand that what we do together is good and pure and true." Connor took a step closer. "Ye may not like us for it now, but tis for yer own good."

Instead of trying to climb off the table, she scooted backwards, perhaps to get away from us over the far end. Perhaps it was the tone of our voices or the way we stood tall and blocked out the rest of the world from view, but she knew we were serious.

Connor stepped back, spun on his heel and went to retrieve the shaving supplies.

"First thing we are going to do is shave that pretty pussy." I grabbed one of her ankles, preventing her from escaping, then pulled the chair close to the table and sat down. Grabbing her other leg, I pulled her toward the edge as she gasped in surprise, pushed her feet wide apart so that her pussy was open and exposed directly before me.

She came up onto her elbows to look at me. "What are you doing?" she whispered, glancing around, thinking we'd expose her like this when others were about.

"As I said, shaving yer pussy." I ran my fingers over the silky dark hair that covered her mound and hid her pretty pink lips. Dried seed clung to it and my cock pulsed against my pants knowing it belonged to Connor and me.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because we want to see all yer pretty pink flesh," I replied. "Because ye belong to us. Yer pussy belongs to us. Because ye need to accustom yerself to showing us yer pussy whenever we wish."

"Give me time and I'll become used to the idea," she countered.

I shook my head. "Nay, we dinna want ye to be used to the idea, we want you to want to show us yer pussy. We want ye to want to bend over the table and lift yer dress so we can fuck ye. In the stable, we want ye to lead us into a stall, lay back in the fresh hay and open yer legs wide so we can put our face between yer legs."

"Why...why would you want to do that?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

Connor turned back, razor, brush and soap cup in hand. "Did ye like how it felt when ye came, lass?"

She couldna lie, for she'd screamed her pleasure three times.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Ye are going to want our cocks. Ye are going to want to be fucked and ye are going to beg for it." Connor tilted his head toward her. "Yer pussy's wet, lass, I can see it from here. As we said before, yer mind may not like it, but yer body likes the way we take control."

She licked her lips. "I've only met you this morning. What's the rush?"

"There is nay rush. Yer pussy's dripping, sweetheart," I said. "Yer pussy doesna need time, only our attentions, and quite a bit of it."

Connor handed me the shaving items.

"Lay back, sweetheart and dinna move. If ye are a good girl, we'll give ye a treat after."