Their Kidnapped Bride (Bridgewater Menage Series Book 1) (10 page)

BOOK: Their Kidnapped Bride (Bridgewater Menage Series Book 1)
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"I could do that all day, but we have things to do." He gave her one last peck on the lips. "Lay down, lass."

It wasn't hard for Ian to get her onto her back as the man's kiss seemed to have robbed her of all reasonable thought. Which was just the way we needed her for what we were about to do. Ian climbed onto the bed after her, moving so he leaned back against the pillows, pulling Emma up so she was lying against him. Her back to his front.

"Ian, what are you doing?" she asked, tilting her head to the side and glancing up at him. He took this opportunity to give her a lingering kiss.

"Ian is to hold you while I shave you," I told her.

Placing the shaving supplies on the side table, I grabbed the soapy brush and razor and sat down on the large bed as well.

"Shaving?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

Ian's hands slid down her body, taking a moment to cup and then play with her breasts before grabbing her inner thighs and pulling her knees up and back.

"Ian!" She tried to shift from his hold, but leaning against him as she was, she had no leverage.

"Shh," he soothed, kissing her ear and along her neck.

Ian did an excellent job of spreading her open for me, her knees up at the sides of her breasts. I shifted into position between her thighs and quickly began coating her in thick lather.

"I am shaving your cunny."

"Why?" she asked, confused and embarrassed. It was doubtful she realized she tilted her head to the side to give Ian better access to her long neck.

"Because your pretty pink lips are hidden beneath these dark curls and I want to feel every slick inch of you when I take you with my mouth." Placing the brush on the table, I picked up the razor. "Don't move now."

I tended to the task as Emma didn't move a muscle. Slipping my finger over the shaved area, it was so smooth, so slick to the touch.

"Kane? Ian?"

The shout came from downstairs. Mason. Most likely calling us to eat. I heard other footfall below, as the other men went to the dining room for the noon meal. The house was large, the dining area a distance from the bedrooms upstairs.

"We're up here," Ian called back.

Heavy footfalls made their way up the steps and I pulled the razor from between Emma's legs, stood and met the man at the door before he could enter. Mason stopped just outside the doorway, hat in hand, and took in the razor and cloth in my hands. My body blocked his view of Emma's very exposed body. It was for our eyes only, not Mason's or any other man's. His mouth quirked knowing what we were doing.

"Keep your bloody thoughts off our wife," I growled in possessiveness. Instead of wiping the small smile from his face, it only made him grin as he held up his hands in surrender.

"Sorry for interrupting, but I've got kitchen duty with Ann. We eat in ten minutes."

"Ian, let me go!" she whispered loudly. I knew Ian would not relent on his hold until we were done and we were far from it. Her resistance was futile.

I nodded at Mason, stepped back and shut the door in the man's face. I could hear his chuckle through the wood.

I turned to look at Emma, whose head was turned away from the doorway, her eyes closed. I moved back into position between her spread thighs.

"Don't move, baby." I went back to work, removing the last bits of dark hair from between her thighs, her pink, lush cunny more and more apparent with each stroke. "You are ours, baby. Only Ian and I will touch you. The men know what happens between men and their woman. They will know your pussy is being shaved. They will hear you when you come, for we will take you regularly and in places – albeit private ones – where you might be overheard. They may even hear you being spanked if warranted."

"But–"

"It is our job to train you to be our wife, to teach you what is expected. Becoming comfortable with others knowing how much you please us and are pleasured by us is something to which you must accustom."

"You
are
beautiful, lass," Ian said, his voice reassuring.

"I've been wondering what you taste like, baby." I glanced at Ian, then at Emma's wide-eyed stare. "I think I'll find out."

Shifting, I lowered my head between her thighs and licked her from arse to clit, my tongue feather light, only brushing over her newly exposed flesh.

"Kane!" she shouted, her eyes lowering to watch me. "What are you–"

Using my fingers, I spread her bare cunny lips, slick now with her cream. "Now doesn't that feel better?"

Her little pink pearl was hard and erect and begging for my tongue. Lapping away all of her arousal, my tongue flicked over her clit. Once. Twice. Her body jerked and she cried out.

"She tastes sweet. Like honey."

"She's fighting my hold," Ian added.

"You don't like your reward, Emma? You've been such a good girl. Stay still or you will be spanked."

I watched her from my position between her thighs. Her breathing made her flat belly rise and fall; her nipples were puffy pink tips, her skin was flushed. Long tendrils of damp hair clung to her forehead and neck. Her pale eyes were a misty blue, her emotions evident; arousal, fear, embarrassment.

"Is your cunny sore?" Ian whispered, her eyes falling shut as he licked the round shell of her ear. I heard a whimper escape her lips.

Carefully, I slipped a finger into her. She was slick and hot, her passage so very tight. My fingers only delved in about an inch, then pulled out and I added a second to the first. I watched her closely and when I slipped in to the second knuckle, her eyes opened and she winced slightly.

"Poor lass," Ian soothed. "Two big cocks took your maidenhead and stretched you wide. Your sore cunny needs time to heal, so instead of fucking you, we can start your training."

As he spoke, I returned to my task, flicking just the tip of my tongue over her clit. Her small hands pushed against Ian's thighs, trying to move away. She tasted sweet, tangy and her scent lifted from her heated skin to fill the air around us. My cock pulsed painfully against the placard of my pants. All it wanted to do was sink deep into her, sore cunny or not. I bloody hell wasn't going to hurt Emma with my baser needs so I took a deep breath, lowered my head and focused solely on my new wife's pleasure.

"Kane, it's...it's too much!"

My brow arched as I looked up her naked body. This was the first time a man's head was between her thighs and the pleasure would be different, perhaps even more intense than one of our cocks. "Am I hurting you?"

Her head thrashed. "No." She swallowed.

"Then I will continue, for I wish to see you come." And I did, lapping at her, sucking on her little nub, nipping it gently with my teeth.

"No, please. I don't like this!" she cried out.

I didn't stop as Ian asked her, "It doesn't feel good?" His hands cupped her breasts once again, played with them.

She sighed as I flicked her clit just right. The little nub was hard and very sensitive against the tip of my tongue. "Yes, but–"

"You don't want to come?"

"Not...no, I can't like it!" Her damp hair clung to the sides of her face, in long tendrils over Ian's chest.

I didn't stop, only added a finger to just the very opening of her cunny, letting it move in the smallest of circles, around and around. I loved having her hairless here. So smooth, so pink. Luscious.

"Why not, lass?" Ian murmured as he kissed the thrumming pulse at her neck.

"Because...there's two of you."

I lifted my head from between her luscious thighs. Her inner walls were greedily squeezing at the tip of my finger, trying to pull it in. Her clit had grown bigger and harder beneath my tongue, her cream slipping from her to coat my chin. There was no question she was about to come, but her mind was too diverted by the morality of it all. This was a barrier we would break through, just like I had her maidenhead. It would take time, but it was one of the most important aspects being married to Ian and I. She would accustom herself to being pleasured by both of us. Together.

Because of this, I slowly wiped the back of my hand across my chin. "Then I will stop."

Her eyes opened and met mine, her body still. "What?" she asked, now more confused than ever.

"If you do not wish to come, then I will stop," I repeated, moving off the bed. My cock was hard as a rock, but tending to it would have to wait.

Ian released her legs and she sat up, confusion warring with arousal on her face. She had no idea how pretty she was with her hair damp and down her back, long tangles of curl fell over her shoulder and onto an upturned breast. Her skin was flushed and the way she sat, her legs curled, her bare cunny was exposed. The swollen pink folds couldn't be missed.

Shifting from behind her, Ian moved from the bed to his dresser and took a small box that held handcrafted butt plugs. Opening it, he took the smallest size from the selection along with a small glass jar of slick lubricant. I had the honor of taking her virginity and the first to sample the sweetness between her thighs. Therefore, it was Ian's turn to work her body, teaching Emma we would both tend to her, one at a time, for now.

Ian sat on the edge of the bed. "Over my knee, lass."

Her eyes widened and she dashed off the far side of the bed, pressing her back against the wall. In this position, she only showcased her assets for us even more. I was reveling in her bare cunny and just stared at it while Ian took over. I leaned against the doorway, relaxed and ready to watch what came next. Just looking at her all mussed and naked had me adjusting my hard length in my pants.

"You're not spanking me. I've done nothing wrong!"

"Nay, lass. You've behaved so well. I want ye over my knee so I can begin your arse training, not to spank ye."

"My...what?" Her eyes were wide, her mouth open.

"We Scots – Brits, too, like Kane – say arse, but you can say ass instead. Say it, lass." When she didn't Ian's eyebrow went up, all but daring her to be contrary.

"Ass," she whispered, looking down at her toes.

"Very good. Now come over here." His tone dropped an octave.

Emma glanced at both of us, considering her options, the consequences. She was a smart woman, well educated; I didn't need to
know
her to recognize a well-bred woman. Moving slowly, her bare feet silent on the wood floor, she came around the bed to stand before Ian.

He cupped the nape of her neck and pulled her into a kiss. I pushed off the wall to stand directly behind her, my cock nudging against the small of her back. Lowering my head, I kissed her bare shoulder, sliding her curtain of hair out of the way, slipped my hands up and down her arms. Just because she didn't want to come didn't mean we were strong enough to keep our hands from her.

As soon as Ian ended their kiss, I returned to my place against the wall. Ian tugged, pulling her across his lap, her upper body on the bed beside him, as she gasped in surprise.

"Ian!" Pushing up on her elbows, she turned and looked over her shoulder, fire swirling from the blue depths of her eyes. Ian's large palm rested at her lower back, ensuring she could not rise.

Ian dipped two of his fingers into the jar of ointment, coating them with the clear, greasy substance.

"I could kiss ye all night. There's nay chance I will ever tire of your taste, but I want to claim your arse," Ian told her. "We will fuck your there, frequently, but you are not ready yet. Dinna fash," he replied in a soothing tone when she began to squirm. "We don't want to hurt you and it is our job to get you ready. To train your arse to take our cocks."

When his fingers ran over the pink pucker, she bucked and thrashed. "No. This isn't right."

"It is right." As he spoke, Ian circled his fingers over her, slowly pressing inward. "Serving your husbands, pleasing them, is a wife's job. Ye will serve us by offering all of your holes. Your tight pussy, your delectable mouth and your snug arse. It will bring us pleasure for ye to do so and in return, we will give you the most incredible pleasure. We took your cunny and ye loved it. Ye had your first lesson in sucking cock earlier and ye came after. Now, we must ready your arse."

Her body stiffened and she groaned when one of Ian's fingers slipped past the tight ring inside her snug arse. She'd fought valiantly, but her body would offer no contest to our attentions. We would show her all the way, all the places pleasure could be found. She may be wary now, but she would soon love having us play with her arse. That thought had my cock pulsing, throbbing with the need to claim her there. But she wasn't ready and her submission to Ian would be satisfaction enough. For now. Soon, she would trust us, knowing that we would see her happy, sated and well satisfied at every turn.

"We dinna want to hurt you, lass. We're doing this for ye." Ian slowly worked his finger in and out of her arse, Emma's body slumped across his lap, her breathing erratic and loud. As he moved further and further within, she mewled, little sounds escaping the back of her throat.

"Our friend Rhys is quite skilled at carpentry, including the lathe. He handcrafts all of the dildos and butt plugs for us, ye ken? When Andrew and Robert married Ann, he made some to their specifications. Even though we hadn't met ye yet, Ian and I knew what we wanted to train our wife. Rhys made them for us and we've kept them, waiting. Waiting for just this moment. Dinna fash, I will use the smallest size plug."

BOOK: Their Kidnapped Bride (Bridgewater Menage Series Book 1)
2.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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