by Kelly Dawson
My husbands’ took a hand each and carefully helped me into the tub. I sighed happily as I sank into the warm water, letting it soothe my aching body. Roscoe dipped the washcloth in the tub and wiped my face, placing a hand on my hair to hold my head still. Between them, they meticulously soaped up every single inch of my body and rinsed me clean, leaving no part of me untouched.
“How much damage did the fire do?” I asked. “Was it as bad as he said?”
“He?” Roscoe asked questioningly.
“The fire wasn’t accidental,” Shane snarled. “That bastard set it. A decoy, to keep us busy while he took Elise.”
“He killed Coleton too,” I said. “His death wasn’t an accident either. He set up the whole thing. Mr. Yates must want me back pretty badly.”
“He’s not having you,” Roscoe growled. “You’re ours. And we mean to keep you.” He frowned angrily. “I should have killed that bastard while I had that chance, you were right,” he said to Shane.
From my perch in the bath I looked up at the face of my men, watching the anger flit across them. Their fists were clenched so tight the muscles in their forearms popped up.
“I’m glad you didn’t kill him,” I said softly. “Knowing that you showed compassion to a man that didn’t deserve it, makes me love you more.” Roscoe’s hard expression softened and he looked at me tenderly. I’m sure it was love that shone in his eyes. “But you didn’t tell me how much damage was done.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Shane said.
“I want to know,” I pleaded.
Shane and Roscoe looked at each other and sighed. What were they hiding from me?
“The fire destroyed my smithy,” Shane said sadly. “But I can rebuild. I think some of it will be salvageable. Thanks to the hailstorm, the fire didn’t spread any further. No homes or lives were lost.”
“But the hailstorm ruined my crop,” Roscoe growled bitterly. “All that work…. Gone. Just like that.” Emotions I didn’t recognize flitted across his face. What was he thinking? Despair, obviously. But what else? I couldn’t tell. Insecurity? Uncertainty? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t good at reading men. Lady Margaret’s School for Girls had taught me to stay out of men’s affairs. Ladies were to occupy themselves with other things and let the menfolk take care of business. But I had money, and I wanted to help. By the sounds of things, my men had lost pretty much everything, and it was all my fault.
“I have money,” I told them. “Four Gold Eagles. It was all I could hide from John. I sewed it into the lining of my skirt, the one I wore when you found me. I want you to have them. Buy more seed, or whatever it is you need.”
“We don’t need your money,” Shane snarled, sounding insulted, and I looked up at him, wounded. I didn’t understand. Why wouldn’t he let me help? Was it pride? I knew all about male pride and how dangerous it could be. I’d seen it in John. And in Mr. Yates. I had no idea it inflicted my husbands as well.
“Why not? It’s my fault the crop was ruined.”
“You control the weather, do you?”
I couldn’t help but grin. Shane had a point. I couldn’t control the weather any more than I could hold back the tide. But the fire… if I hadn’t left Philadelphia, if I hadn’t run away from Mr. Yates, Shane’s smithy would still be standing. Of that, I was certain.
“The fire was my fault,” I insisted. “If I had just gone along with what John wanted and married Mr. Yates…”
Shane cut me off. “No.” He grabbed my upper arm and hauled me up out of the water roughly, so I was standing up in the tub. He held me steady. “No don’t say that,” he growled. “Not ever.”
Before I could react, he drew back his hand and spanked my wet bare bottom sharply, one, two, three times. The spanking was not as hard as the one he’d given me on the prairie, but on wet skin, in my fragile state, it stung. I cried out as tears filled my eyes. Shane lowered me back into the bathtub.
Roscoe crouched down beside the tub and took my chin in his hands, forcing me to look at him. “Shane is right,” he scolded. “I don’t want to ever hear you say those words again, do you hear me? None of this is your fault. You have done nothing wrong! Your brother had no right to sell you off to pay his gambling debts, especially not to someone cruel. Nobody should be treating you in that way. You are not to blame for any of this!”
I squirmed uncomfortably at the hardness of the tub. My bottom burned and throbbed. Roscoe looked at me sternly and because I couldn’t look away, I blinked back at him, feeling sorry for myself. My bottom hurt, my head still hurt, and all I had wanted to do was help. Why couldn’t they understand that?
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I only wanted to help.”
“I know.” Roscoe’s voice was gentle. He bent forward and kissed my cheek, the one that hadn’t scraped against the tree. “And we appreciate it.” He let go of my chin and took my hand instead. Shane crouched down on my other side and picked up my other hand, gently squeezing my fingers.
“My father said I would never amount to anything,” he told me, pain in his voice, and my heart hurt for the man I loved, hearing those words from his father. “So it’s important to me that I make something of my life, by myself,” he explained.
I nodded. I understood. At least, I think I did. His words made sense, even if I didn’t really understand the reasoning behind them. What was wrong with accepting help when it was offered? But I held my tongue. There was a lot about men that I still had to learn.
“Hold onto your money,” Roscoe said. “One day we may have need of it. I may need some of it myself, as you said, for more seed. But let me have a proper look at my crop first. I haven’t had a chance yet. Perhaps the damage is not as great as I first thought.”
I nodded again, looking down at my bath.
“But right now we have something important to do,” Shane said. “We’re going to make you ours.”
Heat shot to my core in anticipation. Them claiming me, however they wanted to, was something I would never object to.
17
SHANE
* * *
Elise’s eyes sparked with excitement when I told her we were going to make her ours and her enthusiasm made my cock hard. She didn’t even know what we were going to do yet and already, she was keen.
“Stand up,” I told her, “and sit yourself on the edge of the tub. Spread your legs.” She looked confused. “We’re going to shave you. Our wife is going to have a nice smooth pussy. When we’re licking your clit, we don’t want any barrier between our mouths and your skin.”
I watched her closely and was pleased when she didn’t flinch. She obeyed immediately, standing up and perching herself on the edge of the tub just as I had asked. I pressed my hand between her legs, pushing her thighs further apart, tilting her pelvis further forward with a hand on her back.
“Hold still,” I commanded as I dipped the soap in the water and rubbed it on the thatch of soft, curly hair nestled between her thighs, working the soap up to a rich lather.
Roscoe took a cut-throat razor from his saddlebag and opened it out, testing the blade against his thumb. I knew it to be sharp; I had sharpened it on the strop myself. He handed the razor to me, then stood behind Elise, supporting her body, holding her still. It wouldn’t do for her to move.
Using small, even strokes, I carefully shaved her bare. Above her pussy, down her labia, the inside of her thighs. The blade slid easily over the curves of her womanhood and I watched the soap and hair mix together and fall away.
“Breathe,” I heard Roscoe telling her, but I didn’t look up from my task. I didn’t want to cut her, nor did I want to miss a single blade of hair. She was trembling and I knew she had her body braced tight against Roscoe, every muscle in her body taut.
“Relax,” I crooned softly. “It’s not going to hurt.” And slowly, she did.
When I was sure I had removed everything, I dipped the cloth into the water and wiped her clean, rubbing my hand over her mound to check. Her bare skin qu
ivered under my touch. I ran one finger up and down her slit a couple times then parted her labia so I could see her little pleasure nub. Without the protection of hair, it would be far more sensitive. She gasped, thrusting her pussy forward against my hand and I chuckled. So demanding! Just the way we liked it.
“Slide back in the water my love, rinse off,” I commanded softly, stifling my groan. My swollen cock throbbed against my pants, begging to be released. I couldn’t wait to sink it inside her. I glanced across at Roscoe. He was just as worked up as I was. But we would wait until our bride was fed and rested, we wouldn’t take her now. We wanted her to enjoy our fucking as much as we did.
While Roscoe helped her rinse all the soap from her body, I turned down the bed in the middle of the room. There was only the one, but it would be big enough for all of us. Me on one side, Roscoe on the other, Elise sandwiched in between. When I turned around, she was standing naked beside the tub, her pert breasts heaving with every breath she took, her legs slightly apart exposing her freshly bare, pink pussy and Roscoe was rubbing her dry with the towel. I imagined this scene playing out every night for the rest of our lives – rubbing Elise dry in our little cabin, turning down the bed, snuggling up next to her naked body. Making her scream with pleasure. Sharing her between us. And I couldn’t think of anything better.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, knowing that she must be famished. I doubted she’d eaten all day, but she shook her head.
“You need to eat,” Roscoe said. “It will help with the shock. Just a few bites.” Without waiting for an answer, he strode to the door. “I’ll go get some chow. I expect to see you in bed and resting when I return,” he said, wagging his finger at her.
18
ELISE
* * *
Roscoe pulled the door firmly shut behind him, leaving me alone in the small hotel room with Shane. My head was starting to clear now, and I didn’t hurt so much anymore. But my whole body felt so alive! My pussy tingled where Shane had shaved it and I felt myself blush. Aunt Nellie certainly hadn’t told me anything about that! Did she know how scandalous it was, being completely bared, opened and shaved there? Did she have any idea how delightful each scrape of the razor against that sensitive area felt? Did she know it made sparks shoot up and down my spine, spreading their heat inside me until I felt like I would explode? Had she ever experienced the sensations the razor left behind?
I slid between the crisp sheets, reveling in their luxuriousness. Just like the fragrant soap, starched linens had been a luxury I had taken for granted in my previous life in Philadelphia. I sighed happily as I tugged the covers up to my chin.
“Don’t go getting too comfortable, my love. We have to put your plug in.”
“Do we have to?” I asked.
Shane nodded. “We do. We’ll be fucking you later, both of us. You need to be prepared.”
Fucking you later, both of us swam in my head. This was something else that neither Aunt Nellie nor Lady Margaret’s School for Girls had taught me about. No doubt Aunt Nellie would be scandalized at the mere thought of two men taking me at once, never mind the actual act. How would it work, anyway? Would they… I felt the slight change in my body as I thought of it, imagined my men claiming me completely. The tingle of arousal that set my nerve endings on fire and made my heart beat rapidly. Even the air changed, becoming too thick to breathe.
“Roll over,” Shane commanded, interrupting my thoughts. My eyes widened at the sight of the glass plug, already prepared with oil. Did that thing really fit inside me so easily? I knew it would, I had worn it before, but it shocked me that my bottom hole was able to stretch so wide and accommodate something so large. Roscoe’s cock is larger. So is Shane’s, I reminded myself.
Despite my best intentions, I felt my face flame as I slowly rolled over in the bed, lying on my tummy, my forearms cushioning my head.
I clenched my buttocks automatically when Shane touched me, knowing what he was about to do, but he spread out the fingers of his large hand and rubbed my bottom in circles, relaxing me. Were there still handprints on my skin where he had spanked me? I was curious, but he didn’t say, and I was too shy to ask. The sting had long since faded, leaving only a tiny bit of tenderness. The tingling in my traitorous body increased at the remembered spanking. How was it possible that a few firm swats to my bare bottom could have such an effect on me? Was that normal? It was something else that neither Aunt Nellie nor Lady Margaret’s School for Girls had mentioned. I was beginning to realize that my education in such matters had been woefully inadequate. How was I ever to have a hope of pleasing two men when I was so naïve and inexperienced?
Shane’s fingers slid down the cleft between my cheeks, spreading my bottom apart. I sucked in a humiliated breath and buried my face tighter against my arms. I was so glad he couldn’t see me! Mortification flooded me but that telltale tingling of arousal increased even more. What was wrong with me? I was certain I had to be flawed. No proper lady should be finding pleasure in such actions, surely?
I tensed and held my breath as he pressed the cold, hard tip against my forbidden hole. Butterflies danced inside me as the glass bulb slowly breached my entrance and I pushed back against it, just as I’d done last time, exhaling as Shane slid the plug steadily home. I whimpered at the momentary pain but the burn wasn’t as intense as I remembered and once the plug was fully seated inside me, it didn’t hurt at all. In fact, it was a rather pleasant feeling of fullness. But still, I kept my face hidden. This was scandalous, surely? Nice ladies didn’t have their bottoms plugged, did they? And they definitely didn’t like it.
Shane patted my bottom, directly over the plug, sending a delicious ache through me. “Under the covers now my love,” he ordered softly. “You remember how Roscoe wants to find you.”
“I’m not tired,” I grumbled, but it was a lie. Although desire ripped through my body, my head was still a bit foggy, and I wanted nothing more than to lie back and sleep off the effects of being kidnapped.
“You know what happens when you lie,” Shane warned me. A shiver rippled up my spine at the threat in his words. I did know what happened, and it involved unpleasantness. An unpleasantness that led into a deep ache of longing.
Lyin’ brides get spanked, echoed in my head, spoken in Roscoe’s deep, sexy baritone. Would he spank me even with this plug embedded deep in my ass? I decided I didn’t want to find out. I scrambled under the covers gingerly, mindful of the plug inside me, but I discovered it didn’t hurt at all.
I had just gotten comfortable when Roscoe returned with a steaming plate piled high with beef stew. It smelled so good it made my mouth water and my tummy rumbled, belying my earlier insistence that I wasn’t hungry. The nausea that had plagued me earlier was completely gone. He sat down on the edge of the bed and turned to face me, scooped up a forkful of aromatic stew and brought it to my lips. Instinctively, I opened my mouth and he fed me like I was a small child.
I reached out to take the plate and the fork but Roscoe shook his head. “No, lie back. Let us take care of you.”
Shane went to eat, leaving me alone in the room with Roscoe. The man I had wed smiled at me. He was so handsome when he smiled, happiness lighting up his whole face, laughter lines crinkling the corners of his eyes. We didn’t speak. Roscoe didn’t seem to be the type of man who engaged in small talk so I just lay back and let him feed me. I didn’t have the energy to make one-sided conversation. There would be plenty of time later to get to know my husbands.
It wasn’t long before Shane was back, having eaten his fill at the restaurant downstairs. I had eaten far more than I thought I would and had just pushed the plate away when Shane returned.
“You’re looking much better,” he said as he approached the bed where Roscoe and I still sat. “The rest and meal has done you good.” He was right – I did feel much better. Almost back to my normal self.
I nodded.
“That’s good. Because we need you feeling well for what we’ve got plan
ned for you.”
A shiver shot up my spine at his words. I had a fair idea of what they were planning and it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up with excitement.
Shane bent to take off his boots. Roscoe got to his feet. My two husbands stood side by side, their eyes fixed on me. A storm erupted deep in my belly as slowly, their gazes not leaving mine, they shed their clothes. My heart pounded erratically against my rib cage and my pulse raced as they stripped for me, muscles rippling in their torsos. Individually, they were impressive men. But together, they were unbelievable. My breath came in ragged gasps, in time with the throbbing and pulsing between my legs. My breasts were hot, achy and tight. I couldn’t think of anything else but the men undressing in front of me.
I held my breath as they sat down on either side of me, the bed sinking beneath their weight. I was trembling, but not from fear or cold. It was arousal. I recognized the pricks of desire now; a longing that only my men could fill.
Without a word, Roscoe turned me onto my side and tapped the plug embedded in my bottom. Shane rested his hand on my shoulder. He was in front of me, Roscoe was behind. I was trapped between them. Right where I belonged.
“We don’t need this anymore. I’m going to fill your bottom with my cock instead,” Roscoe growled. Swiftly, he removed the glass plug and discarded it on the floor, leaving me aching and empty.
Shane pressed his cock against my slick pussy. “You’re so wet,” he murmured. “Just how I like it.”
Behind me, the head of Roscoe’s cock was at my most private hole. I gasped as his finger smeared cold oil over my tight rosebud and his cock pressed harder.
