Their Kidnapped Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 1)

"Ian!" she cried and I relished in hearing my name from her lips, especially in such an aroused tone. I shifted from one breast to the other, the rasp of my beard leaving a hint of red skin in its wake. Her skin was so delicate, almost tender, yet I wanted to fuck her hard. My cock ached to sink into her delicious heat. The way her inner walls were clenching down on my finger, I knew she'd be tight and perfect around my cock.

Her hips began to shift, her skin flushed and dewy, the wetness copious on her thighs. She was ready.

Lifting my head, I looked down into her eyes and saw only pleasure there. No fear, no pain, nothing but need. Lowering my head, I kissed her as I aligned my cock up to nudge at her tight entrance and slid into her in one deep stroke. I swallowed the moan that escaped her lips. She was so tight, her body clamping down on me like a vice, rippling around me. Her hands gripped my back, her nails digging in as I began to move. Neither of us could kiss any longer, focused solely on how we were connected, the way it felt. I grabbed her arse, tilted her up so I penetrated her even deeper. Completely.

Her back arched, her head tilting back as I took her. Her breath escaped in little pants, her eyes closed.

"Look at me, lass."

Her blue eyes fluttered open as I continued to thrust into her. Her hands were once again on my chest trying to push me away. Pull me in. She couldn't decide.

"This isn't right," she moaned, a little frown forming on her brow, confusion warring with the pleasure on her face.

"What?" I rasped.

"This. You. Kane." She exhaled each time I filled her.

"You're going to come, baby. I can feel your walls squeezing me. What shame is there in your pleasure when it is your husbands that give it to you?" Sweat beaded my brow as I held off coming until Emma did. She was close, right on the edge, but she was thinking too much.

"I can't want two men. It makes me...it makes me a harlot."

I grinned at her words. She wanted both of us and that pleased me immensely. My orgasm built at the base of my spine and into my balls. My seed all but boiled and was ready to escape. Not being able to wait any longer, I moved my hand between us so I could rub my thumb over her little distended nub. Breaking her of her inhibitions, her doubts of having two husbands, was not something that I could resolve now. But I could pleasure her, let her see how good it was, not only with Kane, but with me as well. She would ken we were both well satisfied with her, and she in return. So I worked her clit faster as I filled her over and over. A drop of sweat dripped from my brow and onto an upturned breast.

"No, not a harlot. It makes you our wife," I all but growled as she came. I had to cover her mouth with mine once again to stifle her scream. I wanted to keep her pleasure just for me, like a secret gift I would not share with anyone, most especially the other hotel guests along the hall. She might be modest and uncomfortable in her passion, but when she let go of her inhibitions, she was incredible. So responsive, so sensitive. My own orgasm could not be held back any longer and my seed joined Kane's. My base instinct to claim, to mark, to fill was complete.

CHAPTER FIVE

IAN

"How were you able to claim the coach just for us?" Emma asked, her body shifting and swaying with the poorly sprung motions of the stagecoach. She sat across from both of us, her posture erect, her hands clasped primly in her lap. She hadn’t been prim an hour ago. The only outward indication that she'd been recently fucked was a slight flush to her cheeks.

"Money," I replied. The leather flaps were open on only a few of the windows to minimize dust and the interior was warm. The three of us were alone, a large purse to the driver ensured we had privacy for the duration of our journey, not that there was much room for other passengers.

Emma wore a blue silk dress, the bodice low cut enough that the swells of her breasts were plump and full above the lace trimmed edge. The sleeves were long, the waist trim. The fabric and color were decadent and impractical for travel, but certainly showcased our wife's eyes and other attributes. Mrs. Pratt had done as requested and delivered something to wear to the hotel, but it was not the least bit serviceable. When Emma had questioned what had happened to her very serviceable dress she'd been wearing upon her arrival at the brothel, Mrs. Pratt only replied that the alternate dress might please Kane and me more. It certainly kept us focused on her assets. The appreciative look from the coach driver hadn't been missed by me or Kane. We were not the only

ones that found Emma beautiful.

"Where is it we are headed?" she asked, her gaze turned towards the window.

"Travis Point," Kane told her. "From there, we will ride the rest of the way to Bridgewater, our ranch, by horse. We have a few hours to fill and there are many very pleasant ways to pass the time."

She sat directly across from me, our knees bumping on occasion. "Pleasant ways? You mean what we did last night?" Her gaze shifted to meet Kane's, then mine. "Or what we did earlier?"

The sun shifted and filled the stage, Emma's body swathed in a stripe of bright sunshine. She was so lovely, so endearing when she looked at us with such questioning glances. Knowing we'd saved her from a less appealing fate made her innocence even more precious.

"There is so much more, lass. Undo the buttons on your dress and show us your beautiful breasts," I commanded.

Her plump lower lip fell open as she looked around. "Here? Now?"

"We are quite alone for the moment and I wish to see your beautiful breasts. Kane?"

"Yes. Your breasts are lovely and shouldn't be hidden from us."

"But–"

"Do not question us, baby. It will please us to see you so," Kane countered, the tone of his voice shifted to commanding. If we wished to see her breasts, we would not be deterred.

She must have heard the sharp bite in his voice because her fingers went up to undo the tiny buttons that ran down the length of her bodice. Slowly, the two sides flapped open, revealing her white corset. I had ensured the fit was quite snug when I dressed her, pulling the laces tight, so I knew her nipples were just below the edge. In fact, I could see the upper curve of one pink tip peeking out above the top.