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Authors: Vanessa Vale

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BOOK: Their Wayward Bride
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It didn't work. He smiled very knowingly. I'd been caught. My cheeks
flushed hotly. Instead of being cold, I was overly warm. These men
were like cast iron stoves, ample heat radiating off of them. The
quilt was becoming too much, but I could
not
lower it.

He lifted a hand toward my face and I flinched as his fingers ever so
gently moved over my hair. He didn't stop as he spoke. "Shh,
don't be afraid."

"I am Mason," the bearded one said. His hand slipped
beneath the blanket and I startled when his warm fingertips brushed
over my shoulder. "And that lug is Brody."

"How do you do?" I asked politely, then cleared my throat.
"Thank you very much for rescuing me, but I should be on my
way." I spoke as if they blocked the door at the mercantile, not
surrounded me in a bed.

Mason's restraining hand on my shoulder was insistent, although
gentle. Brody continued to touch my hair, as if he'd never seen the
color before. Their touch was as tender as it had been the night
before, their voices soothing me in a way I'd never known. It was all
surprising to me, this tenderness I found in two strangers.

"Which way is that?" Mason's brow rose in question.

"I...um, well, toward Virginia City."

Brody frowned, his hand stilling at my nape. "That's several
hour's ride from Simms, and we're further to the north."

"Then I must certainly make haste, being late as I am." I
was a terrible liar, especially under duress. Being naked in bed with
two men was most certainly under duress.

"Is someone expecting you? No one would assume you would travel
in such a blizzard," Mason commented. "They will think you
home safe and anticipate your arrival after the roads are passable."

Both men's hands were moving over me once again, Mason's sliding up
and down my arm, Brody mimicking him with the other. I clutched at
the bedding by my neck and tried to ignore how their hands felt. I'd
never had a man touch me in this way before, clothed or not. Of
course, I'd never been in a bed with a man before, let alone two.

Mason's hand stilled on my elbow. "A husband? Was he traveling
with you? I didn't find anyone else."

Brody stopped moving at the question and they looked at me closely.

I could lie and say I was wed, but then I'd have to create a spouse
and that was why I'd run away in the first place. Or they'd venture
out in the dangerous and inclement weather to find an imaginary
person because of a lie.

Besides, I did not wish them to think I was a loose woman, falling
into bed with men all the time. This situation was...highly
irregular. "Oh, no. No husband. That would be highly
inappropriate of me to be married to one while in bed with
another...two."

Both men visibly relaxed and their hands began stroking over my skin
again, causing goose bumps. Their motions were meant to be soothing,
but it was quite hard to relax in a situation such as this.

"Um...where am I?"

"Bridgewater. It is our ranch."

"Why am I in bed with you?" How did I word this delicately?
"With...both of you? I remember being wrapped in a warm blanket
and comfortably tucked in one of their laps. I remember a hand
stroking over my cheek, over my hair, a kiss on the top of my head.
It had felt so good, deep down knowing I was safe. Even now, between
these two I felt safe. Still, they would think me forward. "Besides
being unseemly, this is quite odd."

"Here at Bridgewater, it is not odd for a woman to be cared for
by two men. In fact, it is the norm. We believe in the ways of the
East where a woman has several husbands."

Several
husbands? "I've never heard of such a thing,"
I replied.

"As you can tell from our accents, we're British. We were
stationed in Mohamir with our regiment. It was the cultural norm. The
marriage protects the woman. It keeps her safe and cherished, having
multiple men to possess her," Mason explained.

"Cherishing a woman is her husbands' job," Brody added.

I felt obscenely uncomfortable. Adding their surprising tale of
multiple husbands made the situation even more unusual. "You
both share a wife? Won't she...um, find it odd for you to be in bed
with me? Or is that also a cultural norm?"

Mason's eyes narrowed. "I will forgive your words out of
ignorance, but do not think to besmirch our character, our honor, by
insinuating we would shame a wife by being in bed with another
woman."

"We are bachelors. No wife," Brody clarified.

Did that make it reasonable then to be in bed with me? This was a
topic of conversation that was not only unfamiliar, but also very
uncomfortable.

"If I could just get my clothes, and perhaps if you would be so
kind to offer a simple meal, I can let you return to your tasks."
I just needed to get away from these handsome men. Their touch should
have been repulsive, just like the very idea of Mr. Palmer's hands on
me, but it wasn't. In fact, it was having quite a different effect
entirely. It felt good. Gentle. Warm. Kind.
Very
attentive.

"It is still snowing and is unsafe for travel. We just saved you
from the cold, sweetheart. We aren't inclined to let you out in it
once again. Besides, your horse...I'm sorry to say, I had to put him
down." Mason's voice was gentle and he watched me closely. Worry
made him frown.

In my distraction, I'd forgotten about the animal. "The horse,
oh. What happened?"

"It looks like he stepped in a hole. It was covered in snow and
easily done. Broke his leg. It was his cries of pain that I heard
when I went out for more wood."

"The horse saved your life," Brody added.

The poor thing. He should have been safely in the stable with a
bucket of oats and yet he'd ventured out with me because I wanted
away. Now he was dead, and all because I'd gone foolishly out in the
poor weather. Tears knotted in my throat, stung the back of my eyes.
I had been given no choice. If I'd remained abed, I most likely would
be standing at the church alter right now with Mr. Palmer. No matter
which way my mind turned, there was only crisis. Mr. Palmer. Two
strangers in a bed. The horse being hurt. Dying. It was all too much.
I started to cry. Brody turned me and pulled me close, letting me cry
into his shoulder. His hands ran up and down my back soothingly and
both men whispered to me. Although my crying too loud for me to hear
their words, it was soothing nonetheless.

Brody's skin was warm against my face, the pale hairs on his chest
tickling my nose. His scent was clean, dark. Manly. Hands ran through
my hair and tilted my head back. Soft lips grazed over my forehead,
my cheeks, and my jaw and then settled on my mouth.

I was being kissed!

His lips were warm, soft and they brushed over me gently, before his
tongue licked over the seam of my mouth. Surprise had me gasping,
which allowed Brody's tongue to slip inside and touch mine. My hands
roamed over his hard, chiseled chest. His hands slid down my back to
cup my bottom. No. That couldn't be possible because his hands were
in my hair. Then that meant....

Mason.

Brody angled my head to the side and plundered my mouth. There was no
other word for it. My senses, too. I'd never been kissed before and
I'd imagined it to be a dry, staid peck. No tongue. I had no idea a
man would kiss you with his tongue in your mouth. It
was...incredible.

Why was I feeling this way? I shouldn't be all hot and tingly and
achy from these men. These
strangers.
But they didn't feel
entirely like strangers, for although I was quite confused and
listless the night before, I could sense them taking care of me,
protecting me. Warming me. I'd been held close and it had made me
feel safe, safe enough to fall asleep in a stranger's arms. A
stranger was someone unknown, someone with whom to maintain a
cautious and wary distance. With these men, there was no distance.
The wariness was there, but it wasn't for the men, but what they made
me feel. Pulling my head back, I sucked air into my lungs that Brody
had kissed away. "We need to stop. This...this isn't right. It
feels...."

I felt more than saw Brody's smile. "No, sweetheart, this is
very, very right. Didn't it feel good when I held you last night?
Remember I said you were safe with us?"

I nodded.

"You're still safe. We'll still take care of you, but here in
this bed, we'll take care of you in different ways." His thumbs
moved to brush the tear stains off my cheeks before lowering his
mouth to mine once again. Mason moved closer so that his front was to
my back, his lips sliding over my shoulder. I felt the soft bristle
of his beard against my skin. Completely different than Brody's
mouth. His hand rested on my waist.

I don't know whose touch was whose; their hands were everywhere. A
hand went behind my knee and lifted my upper leg onto Brody's hip,
pulling it close and holding it. The grip didn't let go.

One finger ran over my womanhood and I cried out in surprise. I tried
to close my legs, but Brody's hand—it had to be his—held me
securely.

"What...what are you doing?" I asked against Brody's mouth.
His taste was as appealing as his scent, the combination softening my
resistance, the muscles in my body.

"I'm playing with your pussy," Mason murmured as he nipped
at the spot where my shoulder and neck met. His beard was soft,
rasping against my skin.

A moan escaped my lips.

"W...why would you want to touch me there?"

"You offered us a little peek and I couldn't resist. Those
pretty red curls only showing a hint of your pussy lips."

His words were carnal, crude. Honest. But I couldn't think about that
further. Somehow, his finger—his one blunt finger—was doing
things to me that had my mind turning to the consistency of oatmeal.

A hand cupped my breast. "Ah, Mason, you're going to love her
breasts. So full, and her nipple, it just tightened against my palm."

"I can't wait, but I'm busy with her pussy. She's dripping wet."

I startled in alarm. "I'm wet? What's dripping? Something's
wrong. No. You should stop."

"Sweetheart, nothing's wrong with you." Brody's fingers
tugged on my nipple and I arched my back into it. "You're
aroused and your pussy is readying for a cock."

I shook my head. "No. No...cocks. I'm a virgin. I can't allow
that, no," I sputtered.

"No cock until you're married," Mason agreed, his voice
deep. "Nothing in your pussy at all until then."

My muscles relaxed. "Then we are done."

Brody pulled his head back enough so I could see his face. Pale eyes
that showed tenderness, eagerness. Need. "We are far from done."

As Brody said that, Mason touched me in a place that felt like I was
struck by lightning, a searing heat shooting through my body. "Oh
my god," I moaned.

"Her clit is hard."

"Her nipples tightened in my palm. Do it again."

The men spoke of my body as if it belonged to them, as if it was
theirs to touch and work. For they were most assuredly working my
body. I had no idea such feelings could be elicited. And there,
between my thighs, I was wet. The sound of Mason's finger slipping
through it was loud in the room. When his finger brushed over me
there again, my clit he'd called it, my eyes slipped shut and my head
fell back against his shoulder. All of a sudden I felt overheated.

"See, so perfect," Brody commented, continuing to play with
my nipple.

Mason kissed the length of my neck and shivers ran down my spine. I
didn't know I could shiver and be so warm. How could a beard be
so...carnal? He must have been glancing down at what Brody's hands
were doing. "Gorgeous. So responsive. Pinch it."

Brody did and I groaned. The feeling was a mixture of pain and
pleasure.

"She likes a little bit of pain," Brody commented.

I was lost. Completely and totally lost to whatever these two men
were doing to me. I knew it was wrong, I'd been told by the teachers
at school not to succumb to a man's attentions, knew even more that
two
men should not be touching me in such a way, let alone at
all. But there was nothing I could do except succumb, not because I
didn't think they would stop, for I knew deep down that these men
would halt their attentions if I truly wished it. I could only give
in because it felt...so...good. Mason's finger continued to flick
over my clit, to rub the side of it in a way that had me shifting my
hips as if trying to reach something. My mouth fell open and my
breath escaped in little pants.

"It's too much. Oh. Please!" I stiffened in their arms,
unfamiliar with the overwhelming feelings they wrought from my body.
I'd never felt like this before. I was out of control; my body
climbing and climbing toward...something and it was scary. I clawed
at Brody's arms.

"That's it, sweetheart. Shh. We've got you. You're going to come
and we'll be here to catch you," Brody murmured.

"You're safe," Mason added as he worked my clit with even
more vigor. I couldn't take it any longer. Their words of holding me,
watching me, keeping me safe helped. I relaxed enough and the
pleasure so intense that I shattered into a million pieces. It was as
if my body had been held together and their touches had broken me
apart. I couldn't do anything but succumb. The feeling was absolutely
amazing and I never wanted it to end.

CHAPTER THREE

MASON

She'd come apart in our arms so beautifully. Her arousal coated my
hand, so hot, so slick. I shifted and pulled Laurel with me so she
was once again on her back between us. Propped up on my elbow, I
raised my dripping fingers to my mouth and licked her essence off the
tips. Her taste was so sweet it made my mouth water with eagerness to
slide down her body and taste her arousal directly from the source.
My cock was so hard it throbbed, desperate to sink into her, to claim
her. Not now though. I'd have to wait.
We'd
have to wait. Like
she'd said, she was saving her virginity until marriage. That would
happen as soon as the weather cleared and we could get the justice of
the peace or the minister out to the ranch and the “I do's”
spoken, and not five minutes more.

BOOK: Their Wayward Bride
13.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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