Their Treasured Bride (11 page)

"Yes, but here?" She glanced to Connor, then around the
kitchen. Brody was helping Laurel to her feet and Mason led them both
down the hall. Emma handed Ellie to Ann right before Ian tossed his
wife over his shoulder, slapped her arse and carried her up the back
stairwell. Kane followed behind.

Andrew stirred the large pot on the stove and ladled some stew into
bowls stacked nearby. I was used to having one of the couples fuck in
a private corner of the house or stable. Private, yes, but quiet,
nay. The sounds of fucking abounded wherever I went on the ranch.
Before, rather than bother me, it
had only made me wish Connor and I had a bride of our own to focus
on.
To Rebecca though, it must seem as if we were a
bunch of heathens.

"Is everyone having...
relations
right now?" she
whispered.

"Aye, although it seems Andrew and Robert will eat their dinner
first before ravishing Ann as they'll watch baby Ellie," I
shared, but when she barely offered me a glance before pursing her
lips.

"Tis nay relations. What's it called, lass?" Connor asked.
"Say it."

She shook her head and pursed her lips. "I...can't."

"Verra well," I replied. "I'm hungry enough to eat a
boiled bear, but I want
relations
with ye more."

Her eyes flared at my words. She was thinking something and it wasna
about fucking. "It is not necessary. I do not need...tending as
the other women do."

What in bloody hell had the women talked about? They were supposed to
talk with her and
help
Rebecca with her concerns, nae have her
disinterested and downright cold. I grabbed Rebecca's coat from a
peg, tossed it to Connor, then grabbed my own. "There's nae a
person around here that needs more tending and
relations
as
ye."

***

Aye, something wasna right. Back at the house, Connor helped her with
her coat and allowed him to kiss her neck but I wasna offered even a
glance. I watched them interact as I stoked the fire in the kitchen
stove and then went to the parlor to build another.

They joined me after a few minutes and Connor tugged Rebecca into his
arms and kissed her. Passionately. Deeply. Fully. When he lifted his
head, her cheeks were flushed and nae from the cold, her eyes blurry
and her mouth wet and red. I stood from my crouch by the fire and
came over to them. I took her chin with my thumb to turn her head for
a kiss, but she swiveled it away.

Connor raised his brows at her action. "What's wrong with Dash's
kisses?"

She sniffed and tilted up her chin. "Nothing."

"Then why aren't ye kissing him?"

She looked away from Connor and down at the fire. "I have a
headache," she finally said.

Connor and I shared a glance and I couldna help but roll my eyes. "Is
that what they taught ye at school—to say ye had a headache to ward
off yer husband?"

She looked up at us through her lashes and I knew I'd been correct.

"Is it time for yer monthlies?" Connor asked and she
flushed a vivid scarlet. "Let's check, shall we?"

He took her wrist and pulled her around behind the couch and with a
hand at her back, forced her to bend over. "Connor, what are
you—"

"Quiet, lass," he said, his voice whip sharp in the room.
The sound of crackling wood came from the fireplace, but otherwise
only the strong wind could be heard.

He lifted up her skirt without any type of gentleness, tossing the
fabric onto her back. Instantly she stood back upright.

"Nay, lass. Over ye go."

"Connor!" she cried out and struggled against his hold.

Connor's gaze met mine. "Give me yer belt."

Rebecca stilled instantly and I watched as the bright flags of color
drained from her cheeks. "A belt? No! You can't beat me. Please,
I did nothing wrong. Don't hurt me!"

I'd already pulled the leather from my pants and handed it to Connor
when she finished her panicked words.

Connor's hand that rested on her back smoothed up and down her spine.
"We are nae going to beat ye."

She stilled at his words.

He took the opportunity to grip one of her hands, then the other and
pulled her arms behind her back. Carefully, he cinched my belt around
her wrists, securing her in place.

"There, now. Where were we? Ah, yes." Connor pushed her
dress back up and onto her back and nudged her feet apart so that her
pussy was open and visible. "Ye lied, lass. Ye're nay bleeding."

I heard her mumble something into the cushion of the couch.

"I have to wonder then, do ye have a headache or are ye lying
about that as well."

She mumbled some more.

Connor spanked her once on the arse, nae too hard, but a bright pink
handprint appeared quickly enough.

"You spanked me!" she cried, her head coming up, her hair
falling free of the pins.

"Aye, and if ye dinna answer our questions, I will do it again."

She turned to look at us over her shoulder, her eyes all but brimming
with anger and fire. "I do not have a headache."

I smoothed a hand over the heated spot on her arse and she flinched.

"My turn," I murmured to Connor, and he stepped back for me
to take his place directly behind her.

I ran a finger down her slit and she shivered.

"What did ye talk about while we were moving the cattle?" I
asked, continuing the benign movement of my finger. It wasna enough
for her to come, but definitely enough of a caress for her to become
aroused. Her wetness seeped out onto my finger so I didna worry about
Connor being too rough with the lass. In fact, she seemed to like it,
but now was nay the time to play at that.

"Babies," she replied.

My hand paused just over her clit. "Are ye afraid of childbirth,
sweetheart? Is that it? I know ye said yer mother died in such a
way."

She shook her head, more pins falling onto the couch cushion beneath
her. "My mother fell down the stairs which brought about her
pains too early."

I didna know how Rebecca survived being born earlier than she should,
but I was glad she had.

My finger took up its motion again. "What else did ye discuss?"

"Men," she replied, her voice as stiff as her body. She was
holding herself still, as tense as could be, fighting me with
willpower instead of muscle.

"Any man in particular?" Connor asked, squatting down
beside her head.

"Why are you doing this?"

"To get ye to talk, lass. Tis our job to take yer burdens away."

She shook her head. "What if
I
am your burden?"

"How is that, sweetheart?" My finger slipped inside her,
found the spongy spot that had her arching her back and began to
stroke it, slowly and deliberately. "How can having ye beneath
me like this, watching ye give in to yer pleasure be a burden?"

She didna respond, so I endeavored to get her to talk. "Get me
the bag," I told Connor. He went to the kitchen as I continued
to use my fingers on her. She couldna come, for I wasna providing her
enough pressure on her clit, nor moving my finger at the right pace
to tip her over the edge. It only made her thrash on the couch, her
hips shifting and moving for me to try to penetrate her further.

Connor returned, pulled out the jar of lubricant and unscrewed the
metal lid. I coated my finger and gently stroked over her tightly
furled bottom hole. She bucked on the couch at the touch, but with
her hands behind her back, she couldna move.

Slowly, very slowly, I rimmed her arse with my thumb, ensuring the
ointment made her slick. As I pushed inward, I nudged her clit with a
finger and she groaned. The tight ring of muscle clenched down and I
slowly began to fuck her —in her pussy and her arse with my
fingers—as I questioned her some more.

"Why is this a burden to me, sweetheart?" I asked once
again.

"I gave you no choice!" she cried. Her walls clenched down
on my my fingers signaling she was close to her orgasm.

"How so, lass?" Connor asked, stroking her hair back from
her sweaty face.

"Oh God, please," she begged.

"What?" I asked.

"I need it. Please, I need it so much."

The sound of her begging had me almost coming in my pants.

"You need to come?" I continued to stroke her, just shy of
nudging her into coming.

"Yes!" she cried.

I shoulda used her desperate state against her, to force her to tell
us what we wanted to know, but she'd begged and I couldna hold her
pleasure from her as an interrogation tactic. I wanted her to tell me
of her own accord, nae because she was out of her mind. And so I
moved my fingers a little faster, pinching down on her clit as Connor
murmured very carnal words into her ear. She came within seconds,
clenching down upon my fingers again and again as her scream caught
in her throat. I didna relent until I'd wrung every bit of pleasure
from her body. Only then did I slip my fingers free and undo the belt
around her wrists.

REBECCA

The men had every intention of forcing me to share what was troubling
me, but in the end, when I'd been so out of my mind with the
eagerness to come, Dash had relented. Instead of using my body
against me, he'd nudged me over the edge and into bliss. He'd been
tender when he lifted me in his arms and carried me upstairs,
undressed me with the gentlest of touches, and tucked me into bed.
After stripping off his own clothes, he climbed in behind me and
pulled my back into his front so we were snug together.

Connor joined us quickly thereafter, sliding into bed on the other
side of me. Their hands stroked over my skin, not in a carnal way,
but as if they couldn't keep themselves from touching me. What was so
special about my body? I couldn't understand their eagerness, their
avid interest in me. Me!

"Why?" I asked. The lantern on the table cast a soft yellow
glow to the room and with the wind blowing outside, I felt as if we
were in a warm, cozy lair—safe and secure from everything outside
the bedroom walls.

"Why what?" asked Dash.

It was time to give in and question. They'd proven that while they
wanted me to share my feelings, they could use patience instead of
force to achieve that goal. Remaining biddable and silent only worked
if your husband actually
wanted
a wife that way. It seemed
that neither Connor nor Dash were interested in that, and instead, to
make them happy, I
had
to share my feelings. It was completely
against everything I'd been raised to expect, but I would have to
try. I sighed, then said, "You didn't have to follow through
with the marriage. You could have any woman you wanted and now you
can't."

Dash's hand stilled on my hip. "If nae ye, Rebecca, what woman
should I want?"

I shrugged, bit my lip, then replied. "Allison Travers."

I found myself turned onto my back so both men loomed over me. Their
gazes were narrowed and focused solely on me.

"Why would I want Miss Travers?" Dash asked. "I've
barely been introduced to her."

I glanced away, for their dual stares was a little overwhelming. "She
finds you quite appealing. I think she has her heart set on you."

"She told ye this when ye stayed at the boarding house? I didna
know she was so forward," Connor asked.

I shook my head. "Today. She brought my trunk to the ranch and
visited with us. She spoke of you with avid interest."

"Are ye jealous, sweetheart?" Dash brushed my hair back
from my forehead.

Was it jealousy I felt? Did it bother me that Allison was interested
in Dash? Some, yes. She was very pretty and could easily catch a
man's eye. "Perhaps, but I wonder more about whether my
brother's proxy marriage took away your choices."

Dash took hold of my chin so I was forced to hold his gaze. In the
soft light, his pale eyes looked very dark, and strong shadows fell
across his rugged features. "I had choices before ye came,
sweetheart. If I wanted Miss Travers, if she interested me even half
as much as ye did when I first saw ye—all stiff and prickly as a
cactus upon yer horse—I would have done something about it. But ye
are forgetting tis nae only me that has to be interested in Miss
Travers for me to wed the lass."

"I have to want her, too," Connor added.

"While she is fetching and nice enough, she isna for us."

Connor shook his head.

"I knew ye were mine—ours—right away."

A little spot in my heart opened up, a place I hadn't even known
existed.

"I've...I've never belonged to anyone before. Not anyone who's
wanted me," I admitted. My father was disinterested from the
start, eager for a boy. Cecil was fully grown when I was born and did
not live at home. I was too young to be a concern or any interest to
him. He'd only become my champion when he heard about my impending
marriage, and perhaps that had been more to irk his stepfather than
to save me.

The looks on both men's faces softened and Connor stroked his
knuckles down my cheek.

"We want ye, lass. Dinna think otherwise."

"And dinna think of Miss Travers as a threat," Dash added.

"Aye," Connor agreed. "Besides, I think Quinn may have
laid claim to the lass, although I doubt she knows that."

I thought of how the man looked at Allison today, how he'd seen to
her safety by taking her back to town himself.

"We could say the same for you, that yer brother took away yer
choices. Perhaps there's a different man that caught yer eye in
London?" Connor asked.

My mouth opened, and then closed, realizing that from their
perspective, they too could be worried I'd been forced into the
marriage without being given a choice. "I hadn't thought of
that," I admitted.

"We may be big and brawny, but ye can bring us to our knees."

Could I hurt them? It seemed impossible, but they'd given me
everything, every bit of their attentions, their focus, their time.
If I was interested in another, I could hurt them readily enough.