Their Rebellious Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 10)

“She does now,” James replied.

“You’re not a bad girl, are you, Kitten?” Jonah whispered in my ear. “You’re just a wild thing who needs cock. Lots of it.”

I gasped. Was I? Was this what I’d been missing? If so, then maybe I was everything they said. “I’m… it’s so good. I need—”

“Yes, we know what you need, and we’ll give it to you. Now. Always,” James vowed.

“Come, Kitten,” Mr. Wells said, pr

essing his palm against me a little more firmly. “Let go. Give over to it.”

I obeyed and I did just that, my whole body shuddering with a pleasure so intense I screamed. Writhed. My inner walls contracted, and I felt a gush of wetness slip from me. My nipples hardened and the brush of my corset against them was almost painful. The sting in my body was now heat. I was lost, but held securely. Words were murmured in my ear, reassuring me to let go.

I basked, savored, reveled in the delicious sensations and then wilted against Mr. Wells, trying to catch my breath. My eyes wouldn’t open, and I couldn’t help the smile that formed on my lips.

This was what it was like between a man and a woman?

This was incredible, and we’d done it on the back of a horse, fully clothed.

I wanted this again. And again.

His hand slipped from between my thighs and I sighed, longed for its return.

The horses plodded on and eventually I looked to James, then Mr. Wells. They were watching me closely, both with darkened gazes. Now I knew what they meant. What they wanted.

I still felt the thick length of Mr. Wells’ cock against my back and could see James’ was bigger than before. If they felt anything like I did, then they were desperate. Frantic, even. Yet they were calm. Strong-willed in so many ways.

I shifted as best I could to look at both of them. “That was what I’d been missing?” I asked, expressing my thoughts out loud.

Mr. Wells grinned. “You weren’t missing it before because you didn’t have us. Now you do and I assure you, we’ll make you feel like that again.”

“And often,” James added, then glanced up at the sky. The wind kicked up and I tucked my hair behind my ear.

My pussy still tingled, my limbs still pliant and soft. I licked my lips, eager for more. I was like a child tasting candy for the first time. One lick wasn’t enough. “Now. I want that again. More. I need it.”

I felt Mr. Wells chuckle. “Greedy little girl.”

“Now we need to seek shelter. Storm’s coming in.”

They’d distracted me from the change in weather, but thick, dark clouds hung heavily in the sky. The sun was gone and the wind was brisk. A thunderstorm. We were out on the prairie, not a safe place to be if there were lightning.

“Travis Point’s ahead. We’ll head there to wait it out.”

Mr. Wells’ hand tightened about my waist as they prodded the horses into a faster pace. “Perhaps I can think of some ways to pass the time.”

For once, I didn’t argue with them, didn’t question. I’d work through my problems later. Now, I would go where these men took me, knew they’d keep me safe and give me what I wanted. God, what I needed. If it were anything as pleasurable as I’d just experienced, that was acceptable to me.

5

JAMES

The late afternoon storm came in quick, like they always did. Usually, I was attuned to bad weather, but Tennessee was a definite distraction. And when she was making herself come for the first time, to see her when she found her peak… we could have been caught in a stampede of buffalo and I wouldn’t have known.

Travis Point was over the rise and we made it there just as the rain began to fall. The church, at the end of the main thoroughfare, was the closest building and we took refuge within. The only sound was the rain hitting the roof, the interior warm from being closed up on a summer’s day.

Windows flanked both sides of the building, the ceiling lofted, the altar at the far end from the entry doors. Rows of pews lined up on both sides of a central aisle. The sparse space was used for religious services, but also for town meetings. As it was not Sunday and close to the evening meal, we were the only occupants.

I took a handkerchief from my pocket, lifted Tennessee’s chin and wiped her face dry. We were damp and a bit bedraggled, but I hadn’t seen her more beautiful. Her hair was damp and long down her back, her cheeks flushed from our dash into the building.