Their Wayward Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 2)

"Isn't that a beautiful sound?" Mason whispered in my ear. "A woman's needs being met by her husbands? She was uncomfortable and they soothed her. Her happiness and her pleasure are their only desires." His breath was warm, his lips running over the upper curve of my ear. He kissed me there, then to my jaw, then lower to the curve of my neck. My eyes slipped closed and I reveled in the gentle feel of him.

Ann's throaty cries of pleasure broke through the haze of my own need. I blushed realizing how I'd settled in to the unusual openness found at Bridgewater. I knew this wasn't the way of the rest of the world; Denver was a big city and I knew nothing about having more than one husband or any of the more delicate tasks within a marriage.

A minute later, Andrew came into the room wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Dinner's warm on the stove." He spoke as if he hadn't just suckled at his wife's breasts. I was taken aback, but it seemed a common occurrence for me.

"I'll help," Brody offered, following the man out of the room. The other men followed him, leaving Mason and me alone.

Mason shifted me in his lap so I looked at him. His hands cupped my breasts and I gasped, knowing he could feel how hard my nipples were. "What Ann's men do for her, it arouses you."

He stated it as fact, not a question. I felt my cheeks burn and I glanced away from his piercing dark gaze. I gave a little shake of my head.

"Laurel, your head might be denying it, but your body doesn't lie."

How could he know my body's desires? I was just discovering them.

"Look," he said, glancing down at his lap. There, where I'd been sitting just a moment ago was darkened and wet. "Your pussy is dripping onto my pants."

I gasped and stood, trying to get away, to hide somewhere in shame, but he hooked an arm about my waist and held me in front of him so I stood between his knees. His hands lowered to the backs of my thighs and slipped upward to cup my bottom. From this position, I couldn't miss seeing the spot on his pants, felt the air cooling the wetness on my pussy and thighs. I was wet. The proof couldn't be denied. I didn't want to be aroused. This meant I liked listening to others doing carnal things. This meant I wanted those same things done to me. That meant I liked having Mason touch me intimately. It shouldn't be so!

I was holding on to a terrible lie. If they knew who I really was, they'd send me back to Father. Surely no one would want me after Mason and Brody told them what kind of woman I was. I'd be an outcast. It was better to deny the feelings, to show that I didn't like it, that I was unaffected, so when the time came they could only state that I'd been under duress. Perhaps then I'd be able to find a husband that would still be interested in me. I was being delusional. No one was interested in me. Everyone had their own needs at heart, their own gain. My father. Mr. Palmer. I was a mere pawn.

Perhaps the reason I reveled in the sound of Andrew and Robert pleasing Ann was because they put their needs second. For the first time, I witnessed selflessness instead of selfishness.

MASON

"Don't be ashamed, sweetheart. I love knowing having two men appeals to you." I gave her waist a gentle squeeze. "Do you know how hard my cock is?"

Her eyes widened, clearly surprised to find I was aroused as well. I adjusted myself, my pants a strict confinement for my swollen cock. When she saw the size of me through my pants, she licked her lips. I would come in my pants if I didn't redirect my thoughts. Feeling her hot pussy against my thigh had been torture, feeling her nipples tighten beneath my palms had been delightful, but seeing her juices staining my pants was so damn hot. I couldn't resist looking at her.

Catching my long shirt she wore on my thumbs, I worked the material upward so it slowly revealed her gorgeous pussy. Once my hands rested above her hips, she was exposed from the waist down.

"Mason," she hissed, looking left and right.

"You are so beautiful, all aroused like you are. Your thighs are coated with your juices. Do you know what I want to do?" Her eyes met mine. "I want to taste you there."

"Hello!" Simon called out. I heard the front door close behind them, boots stomping off snow.

"In here," I called. Laurel's body stiffened within my hold and her eyes widened in panic. I let my hands drop, the shirt lowering with it to cover all of her secrets. Her shoulders slumped in relief and her hands smoothed the soft fabric down over thighs, as if assuring herself she was modest.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the men enter. "Simon, Rhys and Cross, this is Laurel."

"We heard about your brush with death," Rhys said to Laurel. "We are glad to find you well."

Laurel nodded, but didn't say anything.

"I saw Kane. They'll stay at home for dinner tonight."

I heard Simon's words, but I was focused on Laurel. The look on her face reminded me of a child who was caught with her hand in the cookie jar, for the men just missed seeing her body. The men were seeing her in my shirt alone; I wasn't about to share any more of her.

Andrew stuck his head into the room long enough to speak. "I've ladled out the stew into bowls, so come to the table while it's hot."

"I might just stay here and make a meal of Laurel's pussy." Laurel pulled against Brody's hold, but he wouldn't relent.

"Come, sweetheart, you can sit beside me." Brody stood and smiled at her, relaxed, calm, almost soothing in his voice. She gave a simple nod and he led her from the room, her hips swaying as she went.

Ann and Robert came in from the other room. Ann's appearance was slightly disheveled and she had a pink glow to her cheeks. They both peeked at the baby in the cradle, assuring themselves he was settled before leaving the room.

Simon, Rhys, and Cross remained behind with me.