Their Kidnapped Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 1)

"You keep talking about being wet." I furrowed my brow in confusion. "I...I don't know what you mean."

Instead of approaching me, he moved to the comfortable chair in the corner and sat down. He leaned back, his forearms resting casually on the padded arms, his legs wide and stretched out before him.

"Mrs. Pratt said you watched a couple fucking and this is why you are here." My eyes widened, but he continued. "Were they in bed?"

"No! You are insinuating I snuck in and hid."

"They let you watch then?" Ian asked, still standing beside me.

"No!" I repeated, becoming fretful at the two men hounding me with their words. "I returned to the house and found them...in the kitchen."

"Ah. Did you see his cock?"

I didn't know how to answer this. Of course I saw his cock. They'd been...fucking! Would it make me soiled goods if I said yes?

"Was he fucking her cunny? Her mouth? Her arse?" Kane wondered.

"Mr. Kane, please!" I cried, my cheeks heating. I covered them with my palms. How could they talk about this so readily?

"Was her cunny wet, lass?" Ian prodded.

"I don't know–"

"Betwixt her legs." He cut me off, his voice deep. "Was she wet betwixt her legs?"

"Yes," I replied, frustrated and unused to being verbally bullied.

"Right now, is your cunny wet like hers was?"

I took another step back and I bumped into the desk. Grabbing hold, I clenched the wooden edge behind me. It was steadying – something to hold onto while my world spun around me. The question was, would it ever right itself?

"Of course not."

"Then I will get you wet so my fingers can slide in easily," Kane replied confidently.

"Why is it so important, this...being wet?" I asked, waving my hand before me.

"It tells us you are aroused. It is a sign, an indication of what arouses you, even when you may tell us otherwise."

"What? No." When he didn't move, didn't say anything, I continued. "I didn't want this. I didn't ask to be here. Thomas drugged me and I woke up here, the only option was to work for Mrs. Pratt or to marry you. I didn't want to do either, nor marry either of you. Both of you. How can you expect me to be aroused when it was not my choice?"

"Who is Thomas?" Ian asked, his eyes narrowed.

"My step-brother."

"He's the one you saw fucking?" Kane asked.

I licked my lips. "I saw his secretary first with one of the maids, then when he was done, Thomas took his turn, but I was caught and fled before I witnessed much of that."

Ian nodded. "I ken now. Your step-brother dinna sound like an honorable man. There's nay wonder ye are wary of men."

"You may not want it – this marriage or anything we do to you – your mind may be telling you to resist out of how you perceive you should react, but your body will show us the truth," Kane said.

I was skeptical. Doubtful. Was this what he spoke of? How my mind was questioning him, but could my body go against my very wishes and act at his command? It was impossible, yet so was being married to two men. I could control myself. I crossed my arms firmly over my chest. "How?"

"I know you're afraid." He paused, watched me closely. When I took a deep breath and nodded, he continued. "Answer my questions. I won't even touch you as I do so." He leaned forward, hands on knees and looked up at me, his dark gaze engaging.

"You won't touch me?" I repeated, wanting him to confirm what he said. It raised my hopes, but I let my pessimism show on my face, especially when I looked to Ian.