Their Rebellious Bride (Return To Bridgewater Book 1)

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Their Rebellious Bride (Return To Bridgewater Book 1) Page 4

by Vanessa Vale


  I glanced about. There was nowhere to go on my own, nothing but open prairie. I knew the direction from which we came, but I had no interest in going back to Butte. Good riddance to the miserable town, but that was where the opportunity for money was. A way to get to Fargo. On a ranch in the middle of nowhere, I had no idea how I would help Ginny and Georgia. Surely, neither man had enough coin to get me to North Dakota. And yet, I had no choice now but to ride with the two men, just as I’d had no choice in going over Mr. Wells’ lap.

  I’d felt helpless. Overpowered. Mortified when he’d tossed up the hem of my dress and stunned when my bottom had been bared. No man had ever seen me in such a fashion. Two had laid eyes upon me. And yet, I’d voluntarily parted my legs, they’d seen me thrash, resist, then still. Submit.

  I lifted my hand to my face in embarrassment, now, perhaps an hour later. Being spanked I could mentally grasp, for I had been quite gruesome with James, but I’d allowed Mr. Wells to touch me. There. I’d somehow wanted it. Needed it. And I’d opened my thighs for him, silently begged for him to do so.

  How had I known that? How had my body even grasped what it needed? Still, I wondered, for my body seemed separate from my mind. I shifted in the saddle, trying to ease the ache that would not go away.

  “Do you feel the hard prod of my cock against your back?” Mr. Wells asked. His voice carried enough that James turned his head, watched me for my answer.

  I did feel how hard he was. How big. Everywhere. I didn’t respond, for he knew I couldn’t miss the insistent prod.

  “You did this to me. Made me hard. I could pound nails with it.” His voice was gentle, but deep and rough.

  A thrill rushed through me, for I wasn’t the only one affected. But were his words a bad thing?

  “I… I didn’t mean to,” I replied, licking my lips. “Are you going to spank me again?”

  “For making our cocks hard?” James asked, shifting in his saddle. He reached down and cupped himself. When he moved his hand away, I couldn’t miss seeing the outline of his cock beneath his pants, like a tree branch it was long and thick angling upwards. It had to be of similar girth to my wrist. My inner walls clenched at the sight. And at the feel of Mr. Wells, I assumed he was of similar proportions. Oh my.

  “I suspect you’ll always make our cocks hard. You think you are a bad girl for being exactly what we want?” Mr. Wells murmured, his hips shifting and nudging me forward. It only pressed my center into the saddle more.

  “I must be. I shouldn’t be like this. Feeling things. Aching.” I shouldn’t feel anything for these men. I couldn’t be with them, married to them. I had to leave, and that was all I should focus on. But I couldn’t. My attention was on my body and what these two made me feel. “Maybe you should have left me at the saloon.”

  “Oh no, Kitten.” He rolled his hips again, which shifted mine. I gasped at the feel of it, the heat that spread through my body. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re aroused. Your body longs to be fucked by me and James, to come. Have no doubt, you would not feel in such a way for the men who would rut and roll over you for a few coins back in Butte.”

  “See?” I said, turning my head to look over my shoulder at him, all the while beginning to move my hips in the rhythm Mr. Wells had started. His face was so close I could see pale whiskers on his jaw, the fullness of his lips. The blue of his eyes. I licked my lips again. “This is wrong. I’m a loose woman. I shouldn’t be like this.”

  “But you should,” James added, tipping his hat back. “Only with us though. We are your men, and soon, your husbands.”

  Oh god. Husbands. I remembered seeing Abigail with her men outside Mr. Grimsby’s. She didn’t look upset at the concept. Quite the opposite in fact. She looked at them with love. Need. An almost frantic desperation, even when one of them mentioned spanking her when they got home. Would her men make her feel as I did now? Was I wrong in my thinking?

  I grabbed hold of the pommel before me as I began to move, my thighs parted widely as I straddled the horse. I couldn’t stop the sensations, and while I was unsure of it being right or wrong, I had to move. Had to do something. With Mr. Wells pressed against me, the motion was small. I didn’t know what to do specifically, how to shift to help these feelings course through me, the ones Mr. Wells had awakened as I’d been draped over his lap.

  His fingers had slid from my bottom and between my legs, touched me, slid over me in a way that should have been unseemly, but had been… wanton. Hot. Incredible. I had no idea a man’s touch could make me lose my mind. He’d said good girls get to come. I didn’t know what “come” meant, but I wanted it so very badly. I wanted to be a good girl. Their good girl.

  “Please,” I whimpered. Sweat dampened my brow even though thick clouds now blocked out the sun. I should have felt refreshed by the cool breeze, but it was as if a fire raged within me.

  Mr. Wells tightened his hold. “Shh,” he crooned in my ear. “I’ll ease that ache.”

  His hand slid under my dress, the hem bunched up about me since I wasn’t sitting sidesaddle. James had taken my drawers off after my spanking and had not given them back to me, therefore, Mr. Wells’ hand slid down my bare thigh and to my uncovered center.

  “Oh!” I cried, the sway of the horse and the pressure of his palm cupping me had the feelings become so much more intense.

  “Rock your hips. Good, like that.” He instructed me how to move, even assisted with the arm banded about me. Up, down, even in a small circle. I ground myself against his hand. There was a spot that ached, throbbed and even pulsed with growing need, but my entrance, the place I knew would have to take a cock to make a baby—the vague knowledge I’d learned from a marital class at the finishing school—craved to be filled.

  I lifted up and tried to take one into me, but I was denied.

  “Please. I need it,” I all but begged, turning my head to look up at him.

  “You can hump yourself on my hand, rub that hard, little clit against my palm,” he replied. I recognized the deeper timbre of his voice. “You can even drip all over my fingers. But filling that virgin hole is James’ job. The first thing going in there is his cock.”

  “That’s right,” James said. He’d sidled even closer so our legs bumped as the horses continued on, not caring what was happening. “I’m going to open that pussy up, Tennessee. Pop that virginity with my cock and make it mine.”

  “Yes, oh yes,” I agreed, working my hips even more on Mr. Wells’ palm. I wanted that, envisioned something big and thick filling me up.

  What I was doing felt so good, but I knew somehow that it would only be better with a man’s cock.

  “Ride Jonah’s hand,” James directed. “That’s right. Such a greedy girl, taking your pleasure like that. Out here for us to watch. Using him to ease that ache in your hot little pussy.”

  My eyes fell closed and I gripped the pommel tightly, moving and following the pleasure that was growing. My breathing grew ragged as I worked myself, my hips moving faster and faster. I was lost, wild, yet I felt safe somehow. With Mr. Wells surrounding me, with James watching, I knew nothing was going to happen to me, that I could do this, feel this and he wouldn’t let me go.

  I lifted, lowered, rolled, swayed, using Mr. Wells’ hand to my pleasure. More and more until I was gasping, begging for it to end, hoping it would never have to stop.

  “I think we know why she got herself in all that trouble. Needy pussies make a girl very cranky. She didn’t have an outlet for all this need,” Jonah said.

  “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.

  And from her orgasm.

  My cock pulsed in my pants, my balls so full, they ached to be emptied. Seeing her over Jonah’s lap, watching her pale ass jiggle, then turn a fiery pink from her spanking, did something to me. Jonah had agreed, just as I’d suspected, to a Bridgewater marriage. It eased my mind. I didn’t feel the least bit sick, but the doctor’s words had put the fear of God in me. Made me consider what I wanted out of life. And right now, waiting out the storm, I wanted Tennessee. With her face tipped up to mine, I couldn’t resist a moment longer. I kissed her.

  Fuck, she was so sweet.

  I guessed this was her first, and the idea of it had cum leaking from my cock. She didn’t respond chastely, not after the first second or two. She all but leapt at me, wrapping her arms about my neck as her soft lips met mine.

  I paused for a moment, stunned, then cupped her ass and held her aloft. Her legs went about my waist, and I had to smile at her eagerness. Jonah’s laughter echoed in the lofty space.

  “Why did you stop?” she murmured. “Don’t stop.”

  I stared into her blue eyes, ones now cloudy with desire, and did as she bid. Kissed her some more.

  While she would learn she would obey us instead of the other way around, I could not deny her this once. I wanted my mouth on her just as much.

  Her soft breasts pressed against my chest, her pussy against my cock. The layers of our clothing were all that separated me from being deep inside her.

  She gasped at the bolder attentions and I took advantage, my tongue claiming entry. I licked her, learned every inch of her mouth, showed her what it would be like with my cock in her pussy soon enough.

  Not here, not in an empty church, our clothes damp from rain. She deserved a bed. My future wife deserved to be fucked the first time in a bed. That didn’t mean I intended to stop, only alter what we would do. I’d waited two years for this. Two years.

  She rolled her hips and I groaned. She moaned.

  “Kitten’s a fast learner,” Jonah said.

  Yes, she’d learned how to work her little clit to satisfaction.

  I pulled back, stroked her hair from her face while I kept one hand cupping her ass. Her lips were swollen and red, her cheeks flushed, her eyes blurry. “James,” she murmured.

  “What is it, Kitten?” I asked, liking the pet name Jonah had for her.

  “More.”

  Fuck, I loved the way she said that. How she felt, all hot and pliant in my hold. Jonah was right, it seemed. Tame her pussy, tame the woman.

  He’d had the chance to make her come. I’d only watched, dammit. He’d even been the one to spank her. Both had been one hell of a sight, but the idea of being the one to bring her to climax, to soothe her voracious need, was powerful. I turned us about, walked toward the back row of pews. Lowering Tennessee to her feet, I set my hands on her shoulders, spun her about to face away from me.

  What we were about to do perhaps wasn’t appropriate in a church, but it was sacred to me. Everything we did was perfect. Right.

  “Lean forward,” I told her. When her eyes flared wide in surprise, I hastily added, “No spanking. I’ll give you the ‘more’ you want; just be a good girl and lean over the pew like I said.”

  “Aren’t you going to… to open your pants and put it inside me?”

  I groaned at her bold words, asking a question a virgin wouldn’t usually utter. She blushed and looked from me to Jonah, who winked.

  “That pussy can only be ours once we’re married. Until that happens, we’ll pleasure you in other ways.”

  Seemingly satisfied with the answer, she did as I said. Without question or argument, setting her hands upon the hard wood seat of the pew, folding over with her belly tucked into the top.

  I lifted up her skirts until they bunched about her waist, the pale globes of her ass still tinged pink from her earlier spanking. She had no drawers; they were in my saddle bag.

  With a foot, I nudged her legs wider and she was completely exposed to our gazes. The swollen pink folds, the pale curls that guarded it a
ll, the hard pearl of her clit, her arousal that made her thighs glisten, even the tight rosette of her ass which we would someday claim as well.

  I groaned as I breathed in her musky, sweet scent. My mouth watered to taste her.

  Jonah grabbed his cock through his pants, stroked it, as he looked his fill of the way Tennessee submitted so beautifully.

  I dropped to my knees. When I put my hands on her inner thighs, she startled. My cock leaked more cum with the need for me to stand and work my way into her tight pussy, stretching her to take all of me. Breaking that barrier that kept her from being mine completely. I couldn’t hold off any longer in tasting her, having waited the past two years to do this.

  I put my mouth on her, the taste of her bursting on my tongue. Her head came up and she cried out in surprise, then when I flicked my tongue over her clit, she moaned. Her juices were already upon my face. My lips, chin and even the tip of my nose were covered in the sweet honey.

  I didn’t take my time, although I wanted to learn every inch of her with my mouth. I ached to slip my fingers into that tight sheath, knowing no one had been there before, but this wasn’t the place. Now wasn’t the time. I’d wait. While I had my head buried between her thighs, I was honorable and would do right by Tennessee and wait. But she’d know how good it would be, how we weren’t like the others. My cock would remain hard, my balls would ache, but we’d see to her first.

  I pushed her to climax quickly, her cries of pleasure echoing off the walls. She was still sensitive from the orgasm Jonah had helped her achieve upon the horse—fuck, that had been hot as hell—just a short time ago. She was also incredibly passionate and quite insatiable.

  Arousal dripped from her clenching core as she came, and I swallowed it all. Gently licked her clean once she was replete.

  “Jonah, we have a naughty girl here, bent over a pew so I could eat her pussy.”

  Tennessee pushed herself back upright and turned to me. Her dress fell to the floor once again, but she didn’t look embarrassed. She looked satisfied, and definitely a little naughty.

 

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