Their Kidnapped Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 1)

Her head thrashed. "No." She swallowed.

"Then I will continue, for I wish to see you come." And I did, lapping at her, sucking on her little nub, nipping it gently with my teeth.

"No, please. I don't like this!" she cried out.

I didn't stop as Ian asked her, "It doesn't feel good?" His hands cupped her breasts once again, played with them.

She sighed as I flicked her clit just right. The little nub was hard and very sensitive against the tip of my tongue. "Yes, but–"

"You don't want to come?"

"Not...no, I can't like it!" Her damp hair clung to the sides of her face, in long tendrils over Ian's chest.

I didn't stop, only added a finger to just the very opening of her cunny, letting it move in the smallest of circles, around and around. I loved having her hairless here. So smooth, so pink. Luscious.

"Why not, lass?" Ian murmured as he kissed the thrumming pulse at her neck.

"Because...there's two of you."

I lifted my head from between her luscious thighs. Her inner walls were greedily squeezing at the tip of my finger, trying to pull it in. Her clit had grown bigger and harder beneath my tongue, her cream slipping from her to coat my chin. There was no question she was about to come, but her mind was too diverted by the morality of it all. This was a barrier we would break through, just like I had her maidenhead. It would take time, but it was one of the most important aspects being married to Ian and I. She would accustom herself to being pleasured by both of us. Together.

Because of this, I slowly wiped the back of my hand across my chin. "Then I will stop."

Her eyes opened and met mine, her body still. "What?" she asked, now more confused than ever.

"If you do not wish to come, then I will stop," I repeated, moving off the bed. My cock was hard as a rock, but tending to it would have to wait.

Ian released her legs and she sat up, confusion warring with arousal on her face. She had no idea how pretty she was with her hair damp and down her back, long tangles of curl fell over her shoulder and onto an upturned breast. Her skin was flushed and the way she sat, her legs curled, her bare cunny was exposed. The swollen pink folds couldn't be missed.

Shifting from behind her, Ian moved from the bed to his dresser and took a small box that held handcrafted butt plugs. Opening it, he took the smallest size from the selection along with a small glass jar of slick lubricant. I had the honor of taking her virginity and the first to sample the sweetness between her thighs. Therefore, it was Ian's turn to work her body, teaching Emma we would both tend to her, one at a time, for now.

Ian sat on the edge of the bed. "Over my knee, lass."

Her eyes widened and she dashed off the far side of the bed, pressing her back against the wall. In this position, she only showcased her assets for us even more. I was reveling in her bare cunny and just stared at it while Ian took over. I leaned against the doorway, relaxed and ready to watch what came next. Just looking at her all mussed and naked had me adjusting my hard length in my

pants.

"You're not spanking me. I've done nothing wrong!"

"Nay, lass. You've behaved so well. I want ye over my knee so I can begin your arse training, not to spank ye."

"My...what?" Her eyes were wide, her mouth open.

"We Scots – Brits, too, like Kane – say arse, but you can say ass instead. Say it, lass." When she didn't Ian's eyebrow went up, all but daring her to be contrary.

"Ass," she whispered, looking down at her toes.

"Very good. Now come over here." His tone dropped an octave.

Emma glanced at both of us, considering her options, the consequences. She was a smart woman, well educated; I didn't need to know her to recognize a well-bred woman. Moving slowly, her bare feet silent on the wood floor, she came around the bed to stand before Ian.

He cupped the nape of her neck and pulled her into a kiss. I pushed off the wall to stand directly behind her, my cock nudging against the small of her back. Lowering my head, I kissed her bare shoulder, sliding her curtain of hair out of the way, slipped my hands up and down her arms. Just because she didn't want to come didn't mean we were strong enough to keep our hands from her.

As soon as Ian ended their kiss, I returned to my place against the wall. Ian tugged, pulling her across his lap, her upper body on the bed beside him, as she gasped in surprise.

"Ian!" Pushing up on her elbows, she turned and looked over her shoulder, fire swirling from the blue depths of her eyes. Ian's large palm rested at her lower back, ensuring she could not rise.

Ian dipped two of his fingers into the jar of ointment, coating them with the clear, greasy substance.