Their Kidnapped Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 1)

I startled at the contact. The one finger brushed over me in the lightest of touches, yet it felt like I was being branded, the heat that it wrought searing. I gasped and met his piercing, dark gaze, but didn't move, afraid that if I did he might stop. With a feather light touch, he slid over my folds, slowly, watching me. The corner of his mouth tipped up in something akin to triumph all the while learning my flesh.

"I haven't held your hand. I haven't kissed you. I like knowing that the first place I touch your body is your delectable cunny."

When his finger flicked over the place that throbbed, that had pulsed and come to life when I'd witnessed Clara and Allen, a moan slipped from my lips. Panic flared in my eyes at the illicit feelings, the way I found pleasure in a stranger's intimate touch. That barest of caresses felt so incredibly...amazing, that I feared it. Feared what he was doing to me. How could a man I didn't know bring about such carnal feelings with the barest of touches? It wasn't proper. It was wrong.

I started to step back, but just one word from his lips kept me still.

"No." Somehow, after only a few minutes, he was able to sense my emotions. "I will give you your pleasure. Do not fear it, or me." His jaw was tight, his gaze hooded as his fingers became bolder, parting my folds and running over the slippery, swollen flesh. Finding my virgin opening, he circled it, nudging in just a fraction and my body clenched down on it.

"She's so tight, Ian," he murmured.

I'd forgotten about the other man.

The finger dipped in even further, then slid back out to slide up my folds to the bundle of nerves. I exhaled harshly and placed my hands on Kane's solid shoulders for balance. My knees weakened and I needed to hold on to stay upright. Just the very tip of his finger on me had me off kilter. Even through the jacket of his suit, I could feel his warmth, the very strength of him.

When his finger moved back to my opening, another finger joined and two slipped inside. I shifted my hips and lifted up onto my toes at the onslaught. My tissues burned at the stretching and yet, it felt...exquisite. I could hear how wet I was, the sound of his fingers probing me filled the space between us.

"There." His eyes held mine. I couldn't look away. I felt the pressure and pain of his digits as they tried to push even further into me, but couldn't. I clenched his shoulders and winced. "I can feel her maidenhead."

"I...." I licked my lips. "I told you I was a virgin."

"Yes, yes you did. Now I have to decide what to do about it." He pulled his fingers completely from me and I was bereft, lost. Empty.

His fingers were glistening and slick with my wetness and I watched as Kane put them in his mouth and licked them. "So sweet. Like honey." His gaze heated, his skin flushing in what I recognized as desire. "Taste."

My eyes widened. "Your fingers?"

He shook his head. "No. Kiss me."

I leaned forward ever so slightly and Kane came the rest of the way so his mouth covered mine. It wasn't a tentative, chaste kiss, for his mouth opened over mine and his tongue delved deep. He tasted musky and sweet and deliciously male, perhaps a combination of my woman's essence and his own personal flavor. I sank into the kiss, I could do nothing but, for he was quite skilled at it. My body heated and softened, my skin warming and becoming sensitive to the cool air. Finally, after an interminable length of time, Kane sat back.

"Run your fingers over your pussy. Good girl. Now feed them to Ian. Let him taste you, too."

I pulled my hand from between my trembling thighs and looked at my coated fingers. My arousal was warm and slick. Ian took my hand in his and lifted it to his mouth, sucking on my wet digits. His pale eyes darkened as I felt him suck on the tips of my fingers. My mouth fell open as I watched him.

"Aye, like honey," he said when he lowered my hand back to my side. His voice was darker, more gravelly than before, his accent stronger. "Have you ever come before?"

I didn't know to what he spoke, but I had no doubt the answer was no, so I shook my head as I licked my lips.

"Then for being such a good girl, you will have a treat," Kane promised.

Both of his hands moved beneath my shift and over my cunny, or the other word he'd used, my pussy. Fingers dipped inside of me, just bumping into my maidenhead, while his other hand moved to circle and flick at the bundle of nerves that had my eyes slipping closed, my head falling back and mouth opening to let a moan of pleasure escape.

This was what Clara had been feeling: sheer, unadulterated bliss. Kane was masterfully working my body as a weapon against my strongest of mental defenses. One flick of a well skilled finger and my mind emptied of every reason why this was wrong.

This was something I couldn't control. In this moment, my body did not belong to me. It belonged to Kane.

I shook my head at that revelation. "No, please. I'm scared," I cried out, my hands pushing on his shoulders one moment, then gripping an

d clinging to him the next.

"There's nothing to fear, lass," Ian murmured from behind me.

"I've got you," Kane added. "You are safe and in this moment, your body belongs to me."

It was too much. The pleasure was building, growing. Kane was masterful in working my body. My skin was damp, my knees were weak, my nipples tight peaks. I felt engulfed in flames and with each stroke of Kane's fingers he threw more fuel on the fire, until....

"Come, Emma," Ian ordered. "Let us see your pleasure."