Their Captivated Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 3)

I placed my hands on top of Simon's to keep him from letting the material fall, for I was naked beneath. He grinned.

"Like having your breasts played with?" he asked.

Cross and Rhys each brought a hand up and gently pulled mine away and back to my sides. While their holds weren't tight, they were insistent. Simon kept my gaze as he pulled his hands back and the nightgown slid to the floor at my feet with the slightest whisper of sound.

The men froze, their gazes riveted to my body for I knew they could see everything. With their hands back on my wrists, I felt gently powerless. I closed my eyes, blocking them out, but I could feel them looking at me.

Beautiful. Gorgeous. Perfect. Skin so pale I can see little veins like rivers. Coral, that's the color of her nipples, not pink. Nay, she's not pink there, but beneath that dark hair her pussy lips are.

With those last words my eyes flew open and I tugged at my hands so I could cover myself. I wasn't exactly sure what a pussy was, but I had a strong suspicion.

"Nay, lass," Simon said with a slight shake of his head. "Dinna hide yourself."

"I'm...I'm embarrassed," I admitted. "I must smell strongly of fire."

"Yes, but we will bathe you. Later. First," Cross let go of my arm and undid the buttons on his shirt. "I will take my shirt off as well."

Rhys and Simon followed suit and soon enough they were all bare to the waist.

"I'm fully naked and you're not," I said, my gaze roving over the men's very solid chests. Simon had the most hair there, a mat of it soft and curly between his nipples that formed into a V to his navel, then into a narrow line that dipped beneath his pants. His belly was flat and muscles were visible beneath his tan skin. Rhys was the darkest of the three, his complexion more olive. He, too, had dark hair, but only a smattering on his chest and then nothing but well-defined muscles. Cross had no hair on his chest, only dusky flat nipples and never ending sleek skin.

I had no idea men looked that way without their shirts. Oh my. My fingers itched to reach out and feel how smooth their skin was, whether the hair there was soft, to touch all those hard muscles. These were not men who sat about idly; they worked and worked hard and it showed.

"Love," Rhys admitted, "the only way to keep us from claiming you tonight is for us to keep our pants on. I promise—"

"We all promise," Simon uttered.

"—that tomorrow when we are at home at Bridgewater, nothing will keep us from showing you our cocks, pleasuring you with them, making you ours."

"For now, though," Cross added. "We will please you."

I liked the idea of it, but the doing so was the confusing part. "How—"

I began to ask a question, but Simon leaned forward and took my now plump nipple into his mouth and my words ceased and a gasp escaped. Oh my! Simon's tongue flicked over the tip and I cried out. Men put their mouths there? It was so deliciously wrong, but I didn't want him to stop. Quite the contrary, I needed him to continue. Perhaps I voiced that thought aloud for his hand came up to cup my very lonely other breast and began to tweak and tug at the now distended tip.

That was just the beginning, it seemed, for I felt a hand slide down the bumps of my spine and over my bottom, curving around and back up again. Another hand smoothed over my belly and dipped lower to slip through the curls that covered my womanhood. For a brief moment, I clenched my hands and wanted to push the hands away, but then I didn't. I so didn't. For the light touch brushed over my heated flesh and I groaned, a deep body shuddering groan.

"That's the sweetest sound I ever heard," Rhys said, his voice deep and rough.

"She's so wet," Cross murmured. It was true, I was somehow slick down there and the way his finger moved I could hear it. It was another in a long line of actions I should feel mortified about but the way these men made my body come alive, I just couldn't. It felt...so good. I felt hot and pliant and I could barely breathe. Simon had switched to suckling at my other breast and I arched my back involuntarily for him to take more. I needed it...needed their touch...needed something but I didn't know exactly what.

A sheen of perspiration coated my skin and I felt my long hair cling to my back and nape. Cross' finger continued to slide over me, down the side of one slick petal to move it aside, then did the same with the other before finding my opening and circling, only the very tip of his finger slipping within.

"She's tight."

"Le

t me," Rhys said and I felt Cross' hand move away, which had a sob tear from my lips, only to be replaced by Rhys'. His touch was different. While he was just as gentle, he was more intent in his actions, his finger dipping in a touch further than Cross had, only to retreat and slide upwards to touch a place that—

"Yes!" I cried.

I felt Simon's chuckle against my breast.

"She tastes delicious."

I had no idea what Cross spoke about and I opened my eyes to see him sucking on his finger, the finger that he'd had between my legs.

"Wider, love," Rhys demanded, tapping me lightly on my inner thighs. I moved my right foot a little bit. "There, good girl."