Their Captivated Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 3)

OLIVIA

I was so overwhelmed! For a few minutes in my bath, I'd had private time to think about what was to come with the men, with their taking my virginity, and then they'd all but stomped up the steps, stripped off their clothes and beat their chests like cavemen. I had hoped for a husband who would dote and offer me attention and affection, and Cross, Simon and Rhys certainly did all of that. Their fervent attentions would be something to which I would have to accustom.

They wanted me! Even a very innocent virgin like me couldn't miss that fact. While I'd had my hand on their cocks earlier, seeing them naked and fully aroused was something else. Seeing one virile, well formed man with a cock that was big enough to curve up and practically touch his navel was impressive, but I had three. Three! Three men and three cocks.

Simon was solid and broad and big and very, very large. Everywhere. His cock was a ruddy red, the head flared and almost angry looking. Rhys, equally dark, was leaner, taller and his cock seemed longer, which should have been impossible because I didn't think Simon was remotely small. Cross, with his light hair and fairer skin, had hard, sleek muscles and a pale nest of hair at the base of his cock that made him so very different from the other two. That was just their bodies. The looks on their faces were almost predatory, as if they intended to circle me, stalk me, then take me.

The way my body heated at the idea, the way my nipples pebbled at the thought; I wanted it. I wanted them.

I was also...scared.

I'd forgotten all about being scared when Simon had held my legs open so they could shave me. If their goal was to keep me off kilter, then it was working, for I had never imagined such a thing, but Rhys' words and then his hands on my breasts had distracted me. Everything they did was a distraction!

Once finished, Cross began touching me with just his thumb and in a very specific spot. Circling and circling he worked that bundle of nerves that spread pleasure to my fingers, my toes, to my nipples, to every part of my body. Even then, looking down at Cross's cock, rigid and long between his legs, I'd thought he'd lean forward and push it in, but instead they'd pulled out this slim wooden contraption—a dildo, they called it—for me to break through my maidenhead.

My inner walls clenched as they gave me the directions, and again when Cross guided my hand and this wooden phallus to my opening. My newly shaved skin there felt cool, slick and very, very bare. I watched the dildo disappear, little by little as it began to fill me. My body clamped down on it, but it wasn't big like the men's cocks and I was frustrated. When I was able to slide it in so easily and so far, I knew something was wrong. I'd heard about pain during the first time, of some membrane inside ripping and bleeding. A man expected their bride to be a virgin and this barrier was the true sign, the official notice that she was pure.

My eyes widened in surprise when the side of my hand bumped my newly bare skin.

"It...it didn't hurt."

There was something wrong with me and they'd think I was a whore!

I let go of the dildo's small handle and grabbed Cross' forearms. I had to make him understand, for he could clearly see from his vantage point what was happening.

"I'm a virgin, truly." I tried to sit up, but Simon's hold on my legs prevented it. Slowly, Cross eased the dildo out and I gasped at the feel of the hard wood brushing against my inner walls. He held it up, coated in my glistening arousal, but no virgin's blood.

"Cross, please, you have to believe me!" I cried. I tugged at Simon's hold on my legs and he released me and I scrambled to sit up. There was nothing with which to cover myself and I could not escape the dominating presence of three large, aroused men. I couldn't discern from their faces what they were feeling. Did they think I'd tricked them? Tears welled—I couldn't stop them—and slipped down my cheeks.

Simon took hold of my arm and pulled me into him, his skin so warm and I could feel his cock prodding my belly.

"We believe you, lass," he said, wiping my tears away with his thumbs.

I frowned. "How? Isn't there supposed to be blood?"

Rhys shrugged, but did not seem overly concerned. "I believe sometimes it is just that way. Have you ever played with yourself? Put your fingers inside or used something like the dildo? It's all right if you did, for I would want you to lay back and show us how you pleased yourself."

I shook my head. "No. I've never touched myself like that. Only...only with you have I felt this way."

All three of the men smiled and I felt the fear, the chill of it, ebb away.

"You're not mad?" she breathed.

"Nay, lass. This is so much better, for now we can take ye as we wish."

"I thought that was what you had been doing," I countered. "You even shaved me."

"Aye, but if your maidenhead had been there and it tore, you'd be verra sore. Are ye sore, lass?"

I shook my head. I was...needy.

"Then it is going to be a long night, for our cocks are eager to fill you, to mark you, to make you ours." Simon and Cross traded places, and I remembered Simon said he would be first.

Cross angled me back on his arm to kiss me, his tongue plunging into my mouth directly and I tasted myself on his tongue; it was so carnal to learn the flavor of my own desire. His hand was on the back of my neck, holding me just as he wanted me and he overwhelmed me. His own need was obvious in his touch, his kiss, his very breath.

When he pulled back, his breathing was rough. "Lay back now and let us have our way with you."

I was so relieved they believed me that I did as he bid without question, although the kiss had certainly helped. I wanted to please them and clearly I became upset if I couldn't, or if I perceived some flaw in myself that would have them finding me deficient. But Cross' mouth was red and slick from our kiss and his eyes held secret promises I wanted to learn. The only way to do that was to lay back and let them teach me.