Their Reckless Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 11)

Yes, it was absolutely insane. We were men. Big men. Fuck, I’d been in the British military. I could protect Grace from that fucker. But she’d cared too much to see us hurt.

And so I would spend the rest of my life showing her how much we cared about her.

Starting right now.

My fingers slipped inside her and I brought her to a swift, ruthless orgasm. I had no intention of teasing her, to watch as she gave over to the pleasure. No, I wanted her to succumb to it like jumping off a cliff. No escape, nothing but the fall. Except we’d be there to catch her. Every time she jumped with us, we’d hold her. Keep her safe.

She would learn, by any means necessary, that we would always be there for her. When she screamed her pleasure, when her muscles went soft, her bones practically melted from pleasure, I scooped her up and placed her on the bed. Climbing over her, I kissed her, then worked my way down her body until I was between her thighs. Tossing her legs over my shoulders, I ate her pussy until she came again.

By then, she was a sweaty, begging bride eager for her husbands’ cocks.

Hank had stripped down and dropped onto the bed beside her. I moved out of the way and he pulled her up and on top of him. “It’s time, sweetheart.”

She looked down at him, at his big cock.

“Up you go.” With his hands on her hips, he lifted her up, then brought her back down. I watched his cock disappear inside her, saw the way her body took him deep. How she gasped and wiggled her hips to accommodate his large size.

I found the ointment Kane had given me before our wedding, the slick oil that would coat my cock and ease its passage into her virgin ass.

I watched as she rode Hank’s cock, circling her hips and learning her pleasure in this position. I couldn’t wait any longer and moved in to join them. With Hank’s legs spread wide, I fit directly behind our bride, my cock sliding through the crack of her ass, brushing over the tiny hole I’d soon breach.

She was ours in every way. Our wife.

GRACE

I’D BEEN WRONG. So very wrong. They had no intention of sending me to jail. They did plan to send me to heaven. Charlie had brought me to climax twice and now I was close again riding Hank’s cock. I had no idea we could fuck this way, but it was incredible. I loved how deep he went, how I could control how I moved. But then that thought fled my mind like a cloth erasing words on a chalk board.

Charlie’s cock pressed against my back entrance and I stilled, looked over my shoulder.

“Deep breath, love. I’m going to take you, too. This hole we played with is going to open for my cock.”

He pressed against me as Hank remained still. His hands, which had been on my hips, slid over my belly, then higher to cup my breasts.

“Come kiss me,” he murmured, and I leaned forward.

Our tongues tangled as Charlie continued to press and retreat, then press some more.

I gasped when I opened for him all at once, the broad head of his cock popping inside me. “Charlie!” I groaned.

His hand settled on my shoulder and I could hear his ragged breathing. “Bloody hell, love. You’re so tight.”

“I’m not going to last,” Hank said. Sweat dotted his brow and he looked strained, as if holding himself still was the worst kind of torture.

I panted as Charlie worked his way further into me, little in and out motions that were eased by something slick.

“There,” he breathed.

“I’m so… oh, god I’m so full.”

I was. With both of them.

“That’s right, love. You’re so full of us. Our cocks, all of us. You’ve got every bit of us.”

“Including our hearts,” Hank added. “Now move.”

Charlie laughed behind me and began to pull back. Hank thrust his hips up.

My breath caught and I held onto Hank’s shoulders as if I could keep myself from going anywhere. I wasn’t. I was pinned between them, taking them, feeling them. Getting everything from them.