A Wanton Woman (Mail Order Bride of Slate Springs 1)

“Turn you away?” Luke asked. “I’ll turn you over my knee if you even think about walking out that door.”

My eyes widened and I felt my cheeks heat at the idea of being placed in such a position. I remembered John’s mistress and how she’d liked it when he’d spanked her bare bottom. The sound of it, that skin against skin crack and then a fiery burst of stinging pain. I wanted that. I wanted to know what it was like. I wanted to know it all.

“I can see that excites you. Doesn’t it, sweetheart?” Luke asked.

I bit my lip, wondering if I should admit the truth. The truth, though, was well and truly out, so what was the point of denying it now? And so I nodded.

Luke stepped toward me, but I held still, not letting him know I was a little wary. I wasn’t afraid of them, but I’d never been completely honest with John, never shared the darkest of secrets with him. The truth was powerful and so I wondered what they would say… or do, next.

“We’ll never want another,” he murmured.

His tone was even, his voice earnest.

I looked up at him, saw the serious expression. “How can you say that? I… I didn’t please John. I won’t have you fuck me then find me lacking. I’d rather you decide you don’t want me now, before… before I have feelings.”

“Lacking?” Luke asked. “Walker, when you were watching me fuck our bride, did it look like I found Celia lacking?”

“Hell, no. Woman,” Walker growled. “We’ll say it one last time. You’ll stay and we won’t stray.”

The vehemence of his tone had me believing him, but the doubt still lingered. “I—”

“You’ve given this worry to us. Let it go,” Luke added. The back of his knuckles stroked down my cheek and I shivered. “You want us to take control, to give you what you need.”

Did I? Did I want them to take my worries away? Was that why I told them those secrets? Was it so that they could know the truth and want me anyway, to do exactly what I wanted?

My gaze met his, then skittered over his shoulder to look at the decorative wallpaper. “How can you do that, give me what I need, I mean, when… when I don’t even know what I need?”

Walker moved closer. I had one man in front of me, the other at my side, Walker’s big hand gentle on my shoulder. “We’ll discover it together. Enough for tonight. You’re exhausted and we’ve given you quite a surprise. While I desperately want to feel the heat of your pussy around my cock, I’m sure you’re a little tender. Hmm?”

Would I ever stop blushing? “Yes,” I admitted.

“Tomorrow is soon enough,” he said, pulling me into his arms. He felt different than Luke, his scent was different.

CHAPTER SIX

Celia

I was so warm, overly so and I tried to push the heavy blanket off of me. When I put my hands over me to move it away, it wasn’t a blanket, but an arm. My breath caught and my heart skipped before I remembered. Luke and Walker. I was in bed with one of them.

Glancing down, I saw an arm, sprinkled with dark hair, about my waist. Based on the hair color on the arm, it was Walker. The hand was so big, it reached from my hipbone to have the thumb brush the underside of my breast. My bare breast. I’d worn Luke’s shirt to bed, but it had ridden up well past my waist and Walker’s hand was beneath it.

It all came back to me then. Arriving in Denver, the luxurious hotel room, the men’s pressure into having me admit hard truths, the fucking. God, the fucking.

The blanket had fallen about my waist and I was pressed against a solid wall of man, his front against my back like two spoons in a drawer. I felt every hard inch of him. The hair on his chest tickled my back, his strong thighs tucked behind mine. That meant the hardness pressing against my bottom was his—

“Don’t be frightened, doll.”

Walker’s voice was rough and deep from sleep.

I should have been frightened. I was in a stranger’s bed, in his arms, practically naked. I’d done such wicked and carnal things with his brother.

A whimper escaped just before he shifted so that I was on my back and he was looming over me, settled up onto one forearm. He began to undo the buttons down the front of the shirt, slowly exposing me, inch by inch.

I looked up at Walker. His dark hair, which last night had been neatly combed, fell over his forehead, tousled from sleep. His shoulders were so broad he blocked out the pale light coming in from the window. His eyes were on the skin that he was exposing.

“Sleep well?” he asked, as he parted the fabric so it fell off to the sides. Except for my arms, I was bare to him.

I heated at his honest and blatant perusal. Had I slept well? Yes. I hadn’t slept that well in a long time. I barely remember being tucked beneath the covers and Walker climbing into bed and pulling me into his arms. I remembered Luke settling on the other side of me, but nothing more.