Their Wayward Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 2)

She wasn't listening, wasn't doing anything but staring.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Brody asked. He pushed the blankets down to uncover his own cock, equally aroused and ready as mine.

Laurel shook her head and glanced over her shoulder at Brody, only to see his cock. She scooted back on her arse toward the end of the bed and faced us both, pointing at our cocks. "They're really big. Um...they couldn't...I mean....never mind."

We'd stunned her speechless. Brody grinned wickedly, keeping one hand tucked behind his head, as the other gripped his cock at the base and started stroking it up and down as a drop of clear fluid seeped from the tip.

"Have you ever seen a cock before?" I asked as I took mine in hand.

She shook her head, then licked her lips. Brody groaned.

"Then we'll give you a lesson in cocks, shall we? Our cocks are ready for fucking. They're big. They're hard. See

the veins running up the length? Seeing your gorgeous hair down makes me hard."

"Seeing your nipples does it for me," Brody added. "Your breathy little pants almost had me coming."

"Feeling your pussy lips and strumming your clit almost finished me off. Everything about you, Laurel, makes us hard."

Brody pushed up onto his knees, working his cock. "Seeing you like this, in my bed, looking at us with those gorgeous emerald eyes, I'm going to come. Do you want to help me, sweetheart?"

Her mouth fell open. "Help? How? Will it hurt?"

Brody indicated with his chin. "Give me your hand." He released his hold on the base of his cock and held his hand out to her. After biting her lip and considering, she placed her hand in his.

I groaned at her innocence. "Move closer to Brody, Laurel. You're safe."

She looked up at Brody's face then closed the distance between them. He placed her hand on his cock and her eyes widened.

"It's so hard and hot and smooth."

Brody grinned, but his jaw clenched tight. My cock ached just seeing her tiny hand on him. "Like this," he said, placing his hand on top of hers and moving them in smooth strokes.

"Such a good girl. Your hand feels so good. I'm going to come all over you."

I continued to stroke my cock as I watched Laurel's face when the first pulse of Brody's seed coated her breasts and belly. Brody groaned as her hand continued to pump up and down his length, his cum landing on her in thick ribbons. Laurel looked down her body at the white viscous seed.

"I love seeing my seed on you, sweetheart. Marks you as mine." Brody breathed heavily, yet his muscles had relaxed, his body sated. He took her hand off his spent cock. "Let Mason feel your hand rubbing the cum from his cock. It's his turn."

She glanced at me over her shoulder, then crawled over to me. Like Brody, I took her hand and placed it on my cock, hissing out a breath as her fist squeezed by dick. Unlike Brody, I didn't have to show her how to move her hand; she was a fast learner.

I took in the thick ropes of cum on her breasts, the furled pink nipples, her fiery thatch of hair. I'd been ready since I felt her woman's form for the first time in the snowstorm. Now, seeing her naked and feeling her hand work over my cock, my balls drew up tight as my orgasm came from my spine and into my cock, forcing my seed out in thick jets, crisscrossing and covering Laurel's breasts with my cum. Pulse after pulse I coated her, my seed copious. I couldn't escape the groan as I thrust my hips forward, the pleasure overwhelming. I put a steadying hand on the headboard as my senses returned.

LAUREL

I was hungry, ravenously so, my last meal a hasty slice of bread with cheese as I left Father's house yesterday. It was this need and this need alone that had me seated at the kitchen table in a man's shirt. And only a shirt.

After Mason had come, the men had me spread their white, thick seed over my breasts and belly, as if coating myself with something as everyday as lotion. I'd wanted to clean myself of the residue, but the men had refused, offering me not a wet cloth but instead a soft flannel shirt. Brody had rolled up the sleeves to my wrists as Mason buttoned it, covering me down to my knees so that my modesty was intact. Barely.

The food Brody served had my stomach grumbling and I relished every bit of the eggs, ham, bread, sliced potatoes and coffee, but it was hard to stomach my predicament. I'd done things with these men I never knew possible. I'd behaved wantonly, and they must consider me the lowest of the low. I was a fallen woman. My virginity was maintained, but that was really all. If I continued to allow them liberties, would they let me go once the snow abated?

I glanced out the window to see white. Only white. The wind had tapered to nothing, but the snow still fell. It was much improved from the night before, but I was not interested in going out in it any time soon. I shivered at the very possibility. There was no escape, at least for the moment, even if I wished it. I didn't even know where my clothes were. The kitchen's stove made the room warm and I was not chilled in just Mason's shirt. I'd most certainly learned my lesson about being unprepared outdoors.

I was trapped. Trapped with men who thought I was a slattern and were using me thusly. Once I was able to depart, Mr. Palmer most assuredly wouldn't want me any longer. That was an unforeseen perk. However, my chances for any other man were gone as well. I was used goods.

"How was it that you were out last night?" Mason asked, cutting a thick slice of ham.

I looked up at him, patted my lips with my napkin. I couldn't tell him the truth, at least the whole of it. Even though they'd rescued me from certain death, I didn't know the reach of my father's control. If they worked for my father, or with my father, they'd have me thrown over a horse and hauled to church to marry Mr. Palmer in a man's shirt. No. I couldn't risk it. It was safer to lie, at least in part, to protect myself. I could maintain most of the tale, but couldn't risk a connection with my father. I was not known in Simms, or anywhere in the area, by sight. Nolan Turner had a daughter, but the last time anyone in the Montana Territory had seen her was almost fifteen years ago. Unfortunately, I'd told them my real name in bed, but only my first name. The men looked at me, waiting, so I kept as close to the truth as possible, while staying safe.