A Wicked Woman (Mail Order Bride of Slate Springs 3)

Knowing she was ours and ours alone, that those little sounds, the tentative play of her lips on mine, that lush body belonged to me and Jed had me almost coming in my pants. No one else would hear those sounds, see the desire on her face, hear her come. See her body. Claiming an innocent was headier than the most skilled whore.

She was our wife.

Jed lifted his head and I could see them both in profile. My brother was eyeing Eve as if he wanted to gobble her right up. He was holding back; the tense line of his muscles, the ruddy color of his cheeks was obvious. Eve had her hands pressed flat against the wall behind her and she bit her lip.

“Like kissing?” Jed asked, the corner of his mouth tipping up, softening the rough, aroused edge to his tone.

She looked up at him through her dark lashes and those glasses and nodded.

Fuck, those glasses. She was a prim little schoolteacher and we were getting her all nice and dirty.

“Oh, my,” she said, her voice soft and breathy.

“What do you want, sweets?” I asked.

Jed stepped back so she could see us both clearly. She looked to me and I could see her gaze was a little blurry. Soft. Her mind had settled and focused just on kissing. Good.

“I… I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”

“Do you want more kissing?” Jed asked, rubbing the tips of his fingers over his lips.

“Yes.”

I moved and shifted her so I could stand behind her, pressed close and slid her long curtain of hair forward and over one shoulder, exposing the long column of her neck. Leaning down, I kissed the spot behind the shell of her ear, laved it with my tongue.

She gasped and Jed took her mouth, swallowing the erotic sound.

We were both kissing her now, and while she stood between us, we weren’t touching her with anything but our mouths. The high neckline of her dress limited my reach, but I nuzzled and licked, nipped and laved at her exposed tender skin, felt the quick thrum of her heartbeat beneath my lips.

She felt like silk, so soft and warm. Her scent was… lemon. Tart and sweet.

Jed eventually lifted his head.

“Now what do you want?” Jed breathed, his lips brushing over hers.

“More,” she whispered.

“More kissing or just… more?”

“Like… like what?”

She was leading this. There was no way we were going to scare her away. Nor were we going to let her get away. But even though she might be in charge of the pace, we would direct her where we wanted to go.

“Our hands on you,” I replied, nipping gently at the tendon in her neck as I very gently placed my palms against the slight flare of her hips.

I felt her body relax, wilt practically, beneath my touch. I squeezed, reassuring her, letting her know that while we were gentle, it wasn’t all we could—and would—do with her.

And so we touched her, Jed’s hands sliding over her, stroking her arms, her hips, her belly, avoiding her breasts entirely. I knelt and stroked up and down her back, cupping her nape.

When her head fell back, her body languid, I asked, “More?”

“Yes.”

Angling my head, I looked up at Jed. Instead of responding, he lifted his hands from her waist to cup

her breasts. I slid mine down her back and over the lush curve of her ass, hidden beneath the fullness of her dress. While she made a little squeak of a sound and stiffened, she quickly settled.

“Oh, my.”