by Vanessa Vale
That was why we knew Laurel was not who she said. Pushing her would not bring answers. Well, it could, but then we'd have a woman who hated us and that was most certainly not in our plans. We wanted Laurel to like us. Very much. She would be our bride as soon as the weather cleared. She'd tell us the truth, in time. I chuckled to myself. She was a terrible liar. She'd most likely slip up soon enough.
Rinsing the coffee mug, I turned it upside down on a cloth to dry.
As for the man she was to marry, Laurel's reaction to him was enough for us to keep her as far away as possible. A fifty-year old man only wanted a young woman, a virgin, like Laurel for only one reason. Hell, all men wanted Laurel for the same reason, including Mason and me. I wanted to fuck her over and over again until my need for her was sated. I'd even tie her to the bed as she'd said the man would do. Even keep her there until her belly swelled with a baby we'd made.
We weren't sadistic. We weren't thinking only of ourselves. Mason and I were thinking of Laurel, of her pleasure. Her needs. Her desires. I doubted the bastard would think of her at all after he fucked her, or during for that matter. In fact, knowing his kind, he'd have a mistress or two on the side, ensuring Laurel's value and self-worth were always in question.
Running away had been her only option. If both her father and intended husband were as committed to the business arrangement as she'd said and she hadn't run off, Laurel would be married right now. The thought of that had my breakfast settling in my stomach like a heavy river rock.
She could have died. She would have died if Mason hadn't gone out for firewood. I wasn't a man to think of things like fate or destiny, but she'd literally fallen at our doorstep. She was ours.
I wiped down the table with a damp cloth, thinking of our time in bed. Although Laurel was clearly unaware, we'd claimed her then and there. Her body was so lush and curvy my cock was rock hard. Again. She'd tasted as sweet as her breathy little moans of pleasure. Her skin was silky soft and I wanted to learn every inch of it. Seeing her come for the very first time was something I'd never forget. So was the look on her face when she'd seen her very first cocks. Ours. Knowing our seed coated her breasts and belly was akin to marking her, branding her as ours.
With these thoughts running through my head, I scrubbed the table with a little extra vigor. Glancing out the window, I watched the snow fall, but it had tapered off to just flurries. The sun was brilliant and sparkled on the thick, fresh coating of white. Looking outside was almost too bright for my eyes. Squinting, I could see across the ranch to the other houses. In the near distance, I could see someone approaching. He was on foot, trudging through the deep drifts, coat collar lifted up around his neck, hat low over his face. It was only when he stomped his boots on the back porch that I could see it was Andrew.
Tossing the dishcloth over my shoulder, I opened the door for him. The man stepped in with a swirl of cold air behind him. He shut the door firmly to keep the warmth inside. Placing his hat on a peg by the door, he looked up at me and smiled.
"Quite the storm," he commented.
Andrew and Robert also lived on Bridgewater. They were married to Ann, who'd given birth to their first child only two months ago. They were the Americans of the group; we’d met them in Boston directly after our arrival in the country. Besides them, Bridgewater was home to Ian and Kane, who married Emma over the summer. Other members of our regiment were Simon, Rhys and Cross. MacDonald and McPherson were new to Bridgewater, having arrived just last summer. It was quite the week when we'd thought Evers had found Ian. Instead, it was Simon's brother and friend.
"Two feet?" I guessed, glancing out the window.
"Easily."
"Is everyone all right?" I asked. Ann was well after birthing Christopher and the lad was thriving, but it was a vulnerable time for both of them.
He nodded. "Besides being tired, everyone is well. I should be asking that of you. I heard a shot last night. You're the closest house and thought it would have come from here."
"It did. An interesting turn of events."
He ran his hand over his beard and watched me closely, unsure if it was good news or bad.
"Take off your boots and I’ll tell you."
I told him about Mason's trip to the woodpile, the discovery of Laurel and her predicament.
"I've never heard of a Hiram Johns."
"Neither have I," I replied.
"Then who the hell is she? She didn't just fall out of the sky."
I shrugged. "Based on the weather, she couldn't have been riding more than a few hours, so she had to have come from somewhere near Simms. Don't worry, the story will come out."
Andrew grinned. "I have no doubt of that."
I patted the man on the shoulder. "She's the one, Andrew.
His eyebrows went up in surprise. "You're sure?"
"We're sure. I'm not going to punish her for her secrets. That will gain us nothing. I want her biddable. If she's going to be ours, she needs to start her training now."
Andrew's eyebrows went up in surprise as he placed his boots in front of the cast iron stove to warm. "You've fucked her?"
I frowned. "Hell, no."
My friend held up his hands in surrender.
"We're honorable enough to wait until she's truly ours before we claim her. That doesn't mean we can't show her our ways."
MASON
There was no way in bloody hell I'd let her put her dress back on. Seeing her in just my shirt only made her even more mine. Ours. Knowing she wore nothing underneath, that her pretty nipples were poking against the material, that the red curls on her pussy were easily accessible, had me hard. Hell, even after I'd spent my seed on her I was still hard. She was marked. Besides her unique floral, sweet scent, she smelled of fucking. I couldn't wait to mark her on the inside as well by filling her delectable pussy with my cum. I knew Brody felt the same.
Before Andrew left, he'd invited us to their house for the evening meal, which was good because Laurel would see the dynamic Ann had with two husbands. Regardless of her past, Laurel was going to be our wife. She was a horrendous liar; every emotion she felt flitted across her face—indecision, wariness, even deceit. She was deceiving us by keeping secrets.
"What do you think?" I asked Brody, my voice low. Laurel was in the bath in the washroom. We were downstairs adding logs to the fireplaces and stoves to keep the house warm.
He glanced up at the ceiling as if he could see her through it. "I believe everything except her father's name. Never heard of him."
"Neither have I. If she ran away, she can't be protecting him. She's protecting herself. But why? We saved her from certain death. We wouldn't hurt her."
Brody shrugged. "She doesn't know that."
I frowned at the thought. We'd never hurt a woman. Never. Everyone at Bridgewater protected women. Cherished them. "Then we must show her. She's so bloody beautiful." I ran a hand over my beard. "Her hair is memorable. If she's been living around here, we'd have known."
Brody nodded. "Every man within a hundred miles would be after her."
"Good thing she ended up here."
"Where did she come from?"
I didn't have an answer. Only Laurel would be able to tell us.
"She's ours," Brody growled.
"No question. So we wait for her to tell us?"
Brody opened the door on the stove in the kitchen, stuffed a log in and shut it. He tossed the cloth he'd used to protect his hand on the table. "Does the past really matter?"
I shook my head. "I'd rather train her than question her, wouldn't you?"
"Hell, yes. I spoke to Andrew before he left. They'll help any way they can."
***
An hour later, I carried a bundled up Laurel into Andrew and Robert's house. Her coat was still damp and I'd cut the laces of her boots so we wrapped her in a blanket to keep warm on the walk. It was a short distance, only five minutes, but the air was crisp and the sun had set offering no additional warmth. The trio met us at the door
way and took our things, the scent of stew and baked bread filled the air. There was a roaring fire in the hearth and it was warm and comfortable. Since their marriage to Ann, the house had turned into a home.
"It is good to see you again, Laurel," Andrew said. "May I introduce Robert and our wife, Ann? Christopher is in the cradle near the fireplace, napping."
Robert had dark hair and a beard similar to mine, although he was shorter and stockier than I. Ann was petite with pale blond hair. Since the birth of baby Christopher her slim figure had filled out and was quite lush.
"Hello," Laurel responded shyly. She stood there in my shirt and a pair of Brody's socks, her hair pulled back into a long braid down her back with a piece of rope as a tie.
"I've heard you've had quite an adventure," Ann said, looking to Laurel with frank interest. Women were few and far between in these parts, Ann only having Emma nearby.
"We were hoping to borrow some clothing, if you wouldn't mind," I told her.
Ann smiled. "Would you like to come upstairs and see if something might work? The baby should be asleep for some time yet and the men will watch him."
Laurel looked to Brody, then me, for assurance.
"The others will be here soon." When she frowned in confusion, I added, "The others that live here at Bridgewater. The meals are usually at Ian and Kane's house, but we've shifted here because of the baby and the weather. You can go with Ann, sweetheart."
Brody nodded his agreement and the two women left the room and we heard their footfall on the stairs. It pleased me to see her look to us for approval, although we weren't the kind of men who expected their wife to cede to them with their every decision. We wanted Laurel to be submissive to us, not meek.
"She's lovely," Andrew commented.
"Know a man named Hiram Johns?" Brody asked.
Robert led us to the chairs that faced the fire. As we sat, he answered. "Andrew shared Laurel's story. The name is not familiar to me."
The other men agreed with me that she was lying. It wasn't just a feeling on my part. It was obvious to all. I rested my forearms on my thighs. "If she’s lying, it could be to protect him." I didn't want to believe this, even assume it.
"She ran away. I think she's protecting herself," Brody added.
"If she really is part of a business contract, they'll come looking for her," Robert said.
"Whoever they are," Andrew grumbled.
"We'll be ready," I vowed.
CHAPTER FIVE
LAUREL
"I was surprised at first. I thought I was married to just Andrew and I soon learned Robert was my husband as well," Ann shared, taking a dress from a hook on the wall and bringing it over to me. We were in her bedroom, the room I assumed she shared with both men. The room didn't appear out of the ordinary, although their marriage certainly was.
"Did you grow up dreaming of two men?"
She shook her head and smiled dreamily. "Oh no. Here at Bridgewater is the only place I know of where a woman has multiple husbands. I...like it. Very much. My husbands are most attentive." She handed me the dress.
"Thank you. Mason and Brody ripped the bodice of my dress when they rescued me last night." Lord, that sounded wicked, so I added, "The dress was covered in snow. I fear it is irreparable." I held up the dress to my front and looked at Ann. "You're much smaller than I. I don't think alterations are going to help."
"No. I suppose not. You're so tall, curvy too, although now that Christopher is born I've yet to regain my shape."
I didn't know what shape she had before but she was beautiful now. Her features were fine, almost dainty, her skin so creamy pale. She was so calm, so mild, so comfortable in her life.
She went to a dresser and opened the top drawer, then a lower one. "Here are a blouse and skirt. They may work better being separate pieces."
I heard doubt in her voice, the same doubt I felt about her clothes fitting. I folded them over my arm as she spoke.
"Brody and Mason are fine men. You will be happy with them."
My mouth fell open in shock. "I'm not married to them, nor marrying them. They rescued me from the blizzard."
Ann frowned. "Yes, Andrew told me of your predicament. You were most fortunate. The men, though, they are honorable."
"I...I can't be as confident as you in that, for I hardly know them," I answered. We'd done things in bed together that created a deeper level of intimacy than should be expected considering.
"You can trust me on this. Brody and Mason are quite honorable and they will take good care of you." She beamed at me. "Then that's settled. I mean you were with them overnight and—oh!" She lowered her gaze to the front of her dress. There were two wet spots.
"Is something the matter?" I asked, unsure of the extent of the problem.
"My milk has come in. It is so plentiful that I have more than little Christopher can eat. Bring the clothes and we'll go back downstairs."
I followed Ann and when we returned to the main living room, the men stood at our arrival. There were two new faces in the group.
"My milk," Ann said breathlessly.
Andrew and Robert encircled Ann. "Let's go in the other room." Even though they'd moved into the nearby office and we couldn't see them, Andrew's voice carried. "Sit on Robert's lap and he'll take care of you."
Mason and Brody approached me, Mason taking the items of clothing from me and placing them across the back of a chair. "Laurel, this is MacDonald and McPherson, two other men from our regiment."
Both stood tall and broad, as if they could block out the sun with their bodies. Their hair was unruly and long, with hard features yet kind eyes. They each gave me a simple nod in greeting before sitting.
I felt a little silly standing in the middle of the room in just a Mason's shirt surrounded by a group of men. Glancing left and right, I looked for a place to sit. Before I could move, a hand came out, took my hand and pulled me down onto hard thighs. "On my lap," Mason whispered in my ear, the soft hairs of his ears tickling my jaw. His arms came around me and held me in place.
"Do they hurt, baby?" Robert said from the other room.
"Yes, they are so full they ache and the milk won't stop."
"Then I'll take care of that."
Ann groaned and I looked to Mason.
"She has too much milk and it must be worked from her. With Christopher sleeping and his belly full, it is Andrew and Robert's job to relieve her."
I frowned in confusion.
"Robert is drinking the milk from her breasts."
The idea should have been uncomfortable, but instead it was quite erotic. That Ann had a need that only her husbands' could help with formed a bond between them that was quite appealing. Brody had played with my breasts earlier and the idea of his mouth there instead of his fingers made my nipples tighten beneath the soft fabric of Mason's shirt.
"We shouldn't be listening to this," I whispered to Mason. "This is private."
He shook his head. "They took her to the other room for privacy. Remember, the woman's needs come first."
I wasn't sure how having us listen put her needs first, but Ann didn't seem to mind we were nearby, nor the other men. In fact, based on the sounds drifting from the other room she seemed to like it very much.
"Her pussy's dripping, Andrew," Robert said about Ann.
This time I did squirm, for Mason had told Brody the exact same words about me and I remembered where his hand had been, how it had felt.
"We haven't fucked her since the baby was born. Her pussy needs time to heal before we take her again."
"Please, Robert. Having your mouth on my breasts always has me so needy. I need you to fuck me," Ann moaned, her desperation evident.
I felt uncomfortable listening. Actually, it wasn't just discomfort I felt. I also felt...aroused. Listening to Ann find her pleasure in Robert's touch reminded me of how Mason and Brody tended to me earlier. They'd been gentle, yet very persuasive, my...pussy tingling now at the memory of what Mason's fingers ha
d done. They'd said nothing would go in my pussy until I was married, but the way Ann begged to be filled had my inner muscles clenching down, my core aching for something. As a married woman, Ann knew what she wanted. What she longed for. She'd experienced a cock, no, two.
I hadn't. I felt a keen longing that I'd never known before. Brody and Mason had awoken something within me. They'd made me crave their touch, crave what I didn't know. I wanted what Ann had, although their connection, their bond was greater than I could imagine having with Brody or Mason.
"No, baby. You don't decide," Andrew told her. "Your men decide when you will be fucked again. We are being careful, as we don't want to hurt your pussy. You gave us the best gift in the whole world and we will take care of you. Haven't we pleasured you other ways?"
"Yes," she replied, her voice forlorn.
"You are so beautiful like this with your milk dripping, your men taking care of you. I'm going to drink the milk from your other breast while Robert makes you come."