Their Wayward Bride (4 page)

The blanket had slipped down her body as she'd cried and I'd pulled
it to her waist when Brody had distracted her with his nipple play.
Her skin was so pale that pale blue veins could be seen, so silky
soft I was afraid I'd mar her with my calloused palms. When she'd
inadvertently shown us her arse and a hint of her pussy, I'd almost
come then and there. Her hair was the fieriest shades of red.
Everywhere.

And now, now she lay with her eyes closed, replete, a small smile
curving her full lips, completely unaware of anything but her first
orgasm, even the fact that she was bare to the waist. There was no
doubt that had been her first pleasure. She'd been too scared of it,
too overwhelmed by its intensity for it to be a familiar occurrence.

Her hair was a tangle on the pillow, so long, so thick. Her eyelashes
so long, her.... I was turning into a romantic, all at the sight of a
naked woman. She wasn't the first I'd seen, but most definitely the
last. She was ours.

"What was that?" she asked, her voice as soft and slow as
honey.

"That was your men pleasing you."

Her eyes opened and panic flared the moment she returned to herself.
The moment after that was when she realized she was uncovered to her
waist. To say her breasts were lovely was an understatement. They
were large, easily a handful, with plump coral nipples. Her figure
was lush, ample and when I'd slid my hands over her, her curves were
soft and plentiful, something to hold onto when fucking.

She sat up and crossed her arms over her chest to cover herself. Her
hair slid long and wild down her back to touch the sheet behind her.
"I shouldn't have allowed you such liberties. It isn't right."

Brody lay back on his pillow, tucked an arm behind his head. I pushed
up to sit beside her, much less concerned for modesty than she. "Why
isn't this right?" I asked.

"I don't know you and we just...you...." She couldn't find
the right words to explain the emotions and the reasons for why what
we’d done was wrong. She just knew it to be so.

"Last night, when I held you, did it seem wrong?"

She shook her head.

"Were you afraid?"

She licked her lips. "No, I was so cold, so afraid I was going
to die and then you were there."

"It felt right, didn't it, sweetheart?" I asked. "There's
something special here, between the three of us. You felt it then and
you just felt how good it can be, how we can make you feel. It's not
wrong."

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she looked up at me with her green
eyes, unconvinced. She was a well-bred lady, not a woman from the
brothel in town. She'd been told all her life to protect her virtue.
Thankfully she'd heeded those warnings, for she'd saved herself for
us, but she would have to fight those social standards perhaps more
than Brody or I. It would take time and gentle coaxing and
persuasion. "Please get me my dress."

Because of her skittishness, there was no time like the present to
continue her lesson. If she was to be our wife, she needed to become
familiar with her husband's bodies, and teaching her when she was
sated from her first orgasm was the perfect time. It was her job to
tend to our needs just as much as ours to see to hers. Tossing back
the covers, I stood, offering her the expanse of my back first, then
turned to place my hands on my hips. My cock was hard. Hard enough to
pound nails. The blunt head was an angry red color, and it pulsed,
eager to fuck. It curved upward toward my navel and my balls hung
heavily below. If she hadn't seen a cock before—and the way her
mouth hung open and her eyes were wide and ogling it—she was in for
quite a learning experience.

"Your dress is most likely still sodden from the snow. You may
wear a shirt of mine."

She wasn't listening, wasn't doing anything but staring.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Brody asked. He pushed the
blankets down to uncover his own cock, equally aroused and ready as
mine.

Laurel shook her head and glanced over her shoulder at Brody, only to
see his cock. She scooted back on her arse toward the end of the bed
and faced us both, pointing at our cocks. "They're really big.
Um...they couldn't...I mean....never mind."

We'd stunned her speechless. Brody grinned wickedly, keeping one hand
tucked behind his head, as the other gripped his cock at the base and
started stroking it up and down as a drop of clear fluid seeped from
the tip.

"Have you ever seen a cock before?" I asked as I took mine
in hand.

She shook her head, then licked her lips. Brody groaned.

"Then we'll give you a lesson in cocks, shall we? Our cocks are
ready for fucking. They're big. They're hard. See the veins running
up the length? Seeing your gorgeous hair down makes me hard."

"Seeing your nipples does it for me," Brody added. "Your
breathy little pants almost had me coming."

"Feeling your pussy lips and strumming your clit almost finished
me off. Everything about you, Laurel, makes us hard."

Brody pushed up onto his knees, working his cock. "Seeing you
like this, in my bed, looking at us with those gorgeous emerald eyes,
I'm going to come. Do you want to help me, sweetheart?"

Her mouth fell open. "Help? How? Will it hurt?"

Brody indicated with his chin. "Give me your hand." He
released his hold on the base of his cock and held his hand out to
her. After biting her lip and considering, she placed her hand in
his.

I groaned at her innocence. "Move closer to Brody, Laurel.
You're safe."

She looked up at Brody's face then closed the distance between them.
He placed her hand on his cock and her eyes widened.

"It's so hard and hot and smooth."

Brody grinned, but his jaw clenched tight. My cock ached just seeing
her tiny hand on him. "Like this," he said, placing his
hand on top of hers and moving them in smooth strokes.

"Such a good girl. Your hand feels so good. I'm going to come
all over you."

I continued to stroke my cock as I watched Laurel's face when the
first pulse of Brody's seed coated her breasts and belly. Brody
groaned as her hand continued to pump up and down his length, his cum
landing on her in thick ribbons. Laurel looked down her body at the
white viscous seed.

"I love seeing my seed on you, sweetheart. Marks you as mine."
Brody breathed heavily, yet his muscles had relaxed, his body sated.
He took her hand off his spent cock. "Let Mason feel your hand
rubbing the cum from his cock. It's his turn."

She glanced at me over her shoulder, then crawled over to me. Like
Brody, I took her hand and placed it on my cock, hissing out a breath
as her fist squeezed by dick. Unlike Brody, I didn't have to show her
how to move her hand; she was a fast learner.

I took in the thick ropes of cum on her breasts, the furled pink
nipples, her fiery thatch of hair. I'd been ready since I felt her
woman's form for the first time in the snowstorm. Now, seeing her
naked and feeling her hand work over my cock, my balls drew up tight
as my orgasm came from my spine and into my cock, forcing my seed out
in thick jets, crisscrossing and covering Laurel's breasts with my
cum. Pulse after pulse I coated her, my seed copious. I couldn't
escape the groan as I thrust my hips forward, the pleasure
overwhelming. I put a steadying hand on the headboard as my senses
returned.

LAUREL

I was hungry, ravenously so, my last meal a hasty slice of bread with
cheese as I left Father's house yesterday. It was this need and this
need alone that had me seated at the kitchen table in a man's shirt.
And only a shirt.

After Mason had come, the men had me spread their white, thick seed
over my breasts and belly, as if coating myself with something as
everyday as lotion. I'd wanted to clean myself of the residue, but
the men had refused, offering me not a wet cloth but instead a soft
flannel shirt. Brody had rolled up the sleeves to my wrists as Mason
buttoned it, covering me down to my knees so that my modesty was
intact. Barely.

The food Brody served had my stomach grumbling and I relished every
bit of the eggs, ham, bread, sliced potatoes and coffee, but it was
hard to stomach my predicament. I'd done things with these men I
never knew possible. I'd behaved wantonly, and they must consider me
the lowest of the low. I was a fallen woman. My virginity was
maintained, but that was really all. If I continued to allow them
liberties, would they let me go once the snow abated?

I glanced out the window to see white. Only white. The wind had
tapered to nothing, but the snow still fell. It was much improved
from the night before, but I was not interested in going out in it
any time soon. I shivered at the very possibility. There was no
escape, at least for the moment, even if I wished it. I didn't even
know where my clothes were. The kitchen's stove made the room warm
and I was not chilled in just Mason's shirt. I'd most certainly
learned my lesson about being unprepared outdoors.

I was trapped. Trapped with men who thought I was a slattern and were
using me thusly. Once I was able to depart, Mr. Palmer most assuredly
wouldn't want me any longer. That was an unforeseen perk. However, my
chances for any other man were gone as well. I was used goods.

"How was it that you were out last night?" Mason asked,
cutting a thick slice of ham.

I looked up at him, patted my lips with my napkin. I couldn't tell
him the truth, at least the whole of it. Even though they'd rescued
me from certain death, I didn't know the reach of my father's
control. If they worked for my father, or
with
my father,
they'd have me thrown over a horse and hauled to church to marry Mr.
Palmer in a man's shirt. No. I couldn't risk it. It was safer to lie,
at least in part, to protect myself. I could maintain most of the
tale, but couldn't risk a connection with my father. I was not known
in Simms, or anywhere in the area, by sight. Nolan Turner had a
daughter, but the last time anyone in the Montana Territory had seen
her was almost fifteen years ago. Unfortunately, I'd told them my
real name in bed, but only my first name. The men looked at me,
waiting, so I kept as close to the truth as possible, while staying
safe.

"I...I was to marry a man I did not wish."

"You are affianced?" Brody questioned.

"Not officially. I learned my father arranged the marriage as
part of a business contract. He gained a long term alliance and the
other man gained a wife."

"What was so lacking in this man?"

"Youth, agility and kindness," I replied succinctly. "You
find it odd I have qualifications for a husband?"

Brody shook his head. "Some women don't."

I pursed my lips. "He's well over twice my age, is rotund and
has jowls from overindulgence and shared some less than pleasant
plans for me."

"What kinds of plans did he share with you?" Brody asked,
his jaw clenched tight. He ran his hand over the shadow of pale
whiskers.

I blanched at the memory. Mr. Palmer had leaned in close enough for
me to smell his foul breath and whispered tawdry things in my ear.
"He...he intended to tie me to the bed and take me until his
seed took root." I kept my gaze pinned to my hands folded in my
lap.

"That idea repulses you?" Mason asked.

I whipped my head up and narrowed my eyes, shocked. "Yes!
Everything about that man is repulsive."

"It isn't the idea of being tied up and fucked that bothers you.
You've thought about his words, being fucked hard and long, over and
over, filling you with seed until your belly is ripe. You're
squirming in your chair so it's obvious to me—"

"Me, as well," Brody cut in.

"—that it is something that interests you. But not with this
man."

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. Was this the case? Were
the man's words so awful just because
he
would do those things
to me? I glanced at Brody and Mason who were awaiting my answer. If
these men had me tied to a bed, the idea held...appeal. I did squirm,
my...pussy awakening once again at the very idea. I refused to admit
the truth, although they seemed to recognize it before I.

"When was this marriage to occur?" Mason asked.

"Today."

"You went out into a blizzard, risking death, because of your
impending wedding?" He looked at me with a combination of
surprise and anger.

Folding my hands in my lap, I straightened my posture. "I did
not know it was to be a blizzard. It was barely flurrying when I rode
out, so do not think me insane. Would you wish to be married to a man
who was cruel, unappealing and old? I assure you, his actions would
be akin to rape."

"He will not touch you," Mason growled. He stood, the feet
of his chair scraping across the wood floor. The adamance of his
words sounded possessive. "You almost died out there. The man
almost drove you to suicide." He waved his hand toward the
window where the snow still fell. It had lessened over the course of
our meal, but it was still a winter wonderland.

"Your father will search for you. Without you, there is no
deal." He gripped the back of his chair, his knuckles white.

"Both men will search for her," Brody added.

"Yes, I do not know who has more at stake." Mr. Palmer's
interest was greater than avarice. He saw something in me that set me
apart, a condition in a contract unlike any other. When he discovered
I was tainted goods, my father would become irate. There was no
chance I could make either man happy.

"Who is your father? Surely if you're from Simms he is familiar
to us." Brody set his forearms on the table. "
You
should
be familiar to us."

Here is where I had to lie. I couldn't tell them my father's name.
I'd been back only a week and in that short time I knew the man's
power. He'd held me prisoner at a school in Denver for almost my
entire life. I knew more than anyone his control.