Their Captivated Bride (Bridgewater Menage Series Book 3) (6 page)

"Perhaps the order was a bit off, but since I'm to be yer husband, I should introduce myself. I'm Simon Angus McPherson of the clan McPherson, although these days I hale from Bridgewater. I may have been a wee lad in the Highlands, but I belong here, in the Territory."

I heard the knocker on the front door and Olivia's body tensed beneath my palms. "Nay, lass, tis only the minister."

She furrowed her brow. "You don't think I should be nervous of a minister at a time like this?"

I couldna help but grin at her sass. "Tis the man who avoids the parson's noose, nae the lady. Dinna worry, for the man will only change yer name, the rest," I paused and brushed her hair back from her face and then cupped my hand at her nape, "we will change as we go along. All four of us. Together."

She eyed me closely, as if testing the truth behind my words. "Surely the minister will not marry a woman to three men. The acceptance of such ways must only have a certain reach."

I offered one curt nod. "Aye." I glanced over her shoulder at Rhys and Cross, who sat casually upon the sofa, watchful yet alert at the same time. "Ye'll marry me to make it legal, but that is just paper, lass."

Voices came from the front entry and Olivia wanted to step away, so I let her.

"This is happening so quickly. It's overwhelming. All of it. I'm—"

I pulled her back into my hold, this time letting my hands roam up and down her back in a soothing way. "Ye are fine. Yer uncle is content as his only worry is for your safety and he's handed that protection to the three of us. Do ye ken we'll let anything happen to ye?" I gestured to Rhys and Cross as well as myself. "Ye are the center of our world now, ye ken."

The Tannenbaums came into the room along with the minister. Olivia stepped out of my hold and took a deep breath. The man of God was in his fifties and wore his white clerical collar along with his dark pants, white shirt and long robe. Obviously he was awakened and brought from his bed with haste, but his smile was amiable for such a late hour. It was easy to forget everything when I had my hands on Olivia, but the reason for the swift nuptials was not going to go away when the sun rose. We needed to get Olivia out of Helena and away from the bloody bastard Peters.

"...so pleased you could come at such a late hour, especially after the dance. You remember my niece?" Weston spoke with the minister as he came into the room. We stood at their approach and Olivia was pulled into a discussion with the two about some charity luncheon that was to occur later in the month.

The Tannenbaums stood to the side but seemed not the least put out by the unusual evening, even with their wardrobe of nightclothes as a reminder. Perhaps it was that their secret was shed that had them at ease.

"I am quite pleased to be woken for a wedding. Most often it is because someone has passed on in the night, and it is such a sad affair. This reason, however, and for you, Olivia, is very good indeed. Now, then, which man is your lucky groom?"

"I am." I moved to stand beside Olivia, my hand on her shoulder, there for not only reassurance but also to prevent her from dashing off if she decided to change her mind. "Simon McPherson."

I shook the minister's hand as he looked me over. If he had concerns, he kept them to himself. Perhaps he knew Weston well enough to know he wouldna just marry his niece off to just anyone.

The minister cleared his throat with mild embarrassment. "Your uncle has given me a brief history as to what has happened this evening, therefore I will not need to ask the usual questions as to the reason for a hasty wedding."

Olivia's chin came up and I saw her cheeks flush a bright red. The color crept down her neck and beneath the robe and I had to wonder how far it traveled.

"Shall we begin, sir, for I would like to finally kiss her and I'd like to do it the verra first time with her as my bride."

The minister kept the ceremony blissfully short, only asking the most minimal of questions before pronouncing us husband and wife. Cross and Rhys had stood on my right while Weston stood beside Olivia, but I forgot all of them when I cupped her jaw and lowered my head to kiss her. This woman, she was my bride. She belonged to me in the eyes of God and her uncle and nae one could change that. The thought had pride filling me, and lust as well. Her lips were soft and tentative, yet when I lifted my head from the very brief, very chaste kiss, her eyes were blurry with awakened arousal and that pleased me verra greatly. The fact that I couldn't toss her over my shoulder and carry her to the nearest empty room so the three of us could have our way with her, only had my jaw hardening. Olivia's eyes widened at my change in demeanor, but I ran my thumb over her silky cheek in the hopes to soothe her, and ease my ache to touch.

Hearing Weston thank the minister had me breaking out of my reverie. I turned to the man and thanked him for his service and Roger Tannenbaum led him away, most likely allowing the man to finally get back to his bed.

"May we remain here until the morning instead of returning to the hotel?" Cross asked. "I believe Olivia would be more comfortable doing so."

Melinda Tannenbaum smiled. "Of course. I've ordered a bath to be delivered to the blue guest room. Up the stairs and down the hall to the right. Olivia, you know where to go."

OLIVIA

Because I knew the house—I'd visited frequently all my life, and now I knew the true reason as to why—I led my husbands to the bedroom where they were going to take off my clothes and take my virginity. How
three
men did that I had no idea, but being the one to voluntarily guide them to my own deflowering made me very nervous. Nervous? No, that wasn't accurate. Petrified, embarrassed, worried. What if they found me lacking? What if I wasn't good at whatever I was supposed to do? How could I please them if I knew I wasn't good at…whatever? How did I make them happy when I had absolutely no idea—?

"Breathe, lass," Simon murmured, stopping before me as he passed through the door I'd opened. "Tis nae a hanging."

While I knew he was trying to make light of the situation, it didn't help. In fact, it only had me bursting into tears.

I covered my face with my hands and couldn't stop crying.

I heard one of the men swear beneath his breath, the door close quietly and then I was picked up in someone's arms and carried across the room. There, he sat and I was held, hands stroking over my body. The hands had to belong to more than one man, for I felt gentle touches on my legs, my side, even over my hair all the while being held tightly and securely within a snug embrace.

"Shh, it's all right, love, you've had quite a day." Rhys. I recognized his voice.

"Aye, verra brave." Simon's thick burr.

"You're safe with us. All will be better now." Cross. His words swiftly changed my emotion from sad and overwhelmed to anger. I lifted my head and turned toward his voice. I was held in Simon's arms with Cross and Rhys squatting before me. Concern was evident in their eyes, but I didn't care.

"I'm safe with you?" I lashed out, the three men my verbal victims. "I'm supposed to give myself to you, or you, or...or you and I have no idea what to do? How do I please
three
men? And better? How do you know things will be better? Someone set my house on fire and you think because we're married everything is better?"

Two sets of eyebrows went up before me, one dark, one light, surprised by my vehement tone and long windedness.

"Things will be better because you have us to protect you from the likes of Peters. In the morning we will take you back to Bridgewater where you will be safe." Rhys' words were laced with absolute certainty. "It may not make the problem with the man go away, but it makes your involvement in it end. You do not need to worry any longer, as you need to let your uncle take care of Peters and we will give help to him if needed. I know he is a smart man, for he gave you to us, didn't he?"

I opened my mouth to speak but Cross put a finger over my lips. "How do you please three men? Trust me, love, you've already done that by marrying us. As to the rest, it is our job to teach you." He tapped my lips once then pulled his hand away.

"Ye can do nae wrong," Simon added, using his thumbs to wipe my tear stained cheeks.

His gentle actions wiped my ire away.

"I can do no right if I don't know what to do," I countered, sniffling.

"Are ye afraid?"

I sputtered. "How can I not be?"

The men looked at each other over my head and it seemed as if they spoke without saying a word.

"We will not take you tonight, Olivia, for you are tired and you will need your rest for what we have in mind," Cross told me. "Besides, it will be hard for you to keep quiet and I want privacy for when we take you."

"Why will I make noise?" While I tried to sound calm, I could hear the panic in my words. "You're not going to hurt me, are you?"

Rhys smiled. "No, we are going to do quite the opposite. It's going to feel so good that you won't help making noise."

"Ye are going to scream, lass," Simon finished.

I wasn't sure about that, but I did believe them when they said they wouldn't take my virginity tonight and was reassured and relaxed into Simon's arms.

"That doesn't mean we won't touch you," Cross added.

"What?" I asked, surprised. Simon lifted me with his hands about my waist to stand once again before him. With his hands on the sash of my uncle's robe, he pulled the bow loose. Hands at my shoulders slipped the garment down and off my arms and then off me entirely.

"You've had an overwhelming day and it's time for your men to take care of you. All you have to do, love, is feel," Rhys said, his voice low and gentle.

"It is our job to make you feel good. Let us show you how we can do that," Cross added.

"Trust us in this, lass," Simon added.

Their hands were on me, running over my shoulders through my robe and nightgown, down my arms, over my waist and hips, over the outside of my legs. Three sets of hands could cover quite a bit of my body at the same time. Their touches were all gentle, soft. Easy and relaxed. Soothing. Everywhere they caressed my skin tingled and came to life, even through the cotton of my nightclothes.

"Oh," I murmured, surprised by...by it all. "But...but I'm all smoky."

My eyes slipped closed of their own accord and I could easily do as they bid, for it felt so good. How they could set me at ease after a crying jag and a burst of anger was impressive and I had my first simple lesson; I should not underestimate them, for when they set about doing something, they seemed to do it quite well.

I didn't know how long I stood there as they touched me, but time had no meaning. I focused on the hard press of their palms, the curl of their fingers, the sound of their breathing, even the mingling of their scents.

Their touches had stayed to modest places, but every so often, a hand slipped below my hip to curve around my bottom or a thumb moved up to caress the underside of my breast. My eyes widened at the surprise of that, but the look on Simon's face when I did made me gasp. His eyes were so dark as to be black, his cheeks ruddy and he looked at me as if...as if he were a wolf and I was a very innocent little lamb. Perhaps that was true.

This time, when Simon's thumbs moved over my breasts, they didn't stop at the bottom curve but came up to brush over my nipples, which formed into tight little points. No doubt all three men could see them poking against the cotton of my robe. His large hands stilled, cupping my breasts as if he was feeling them, testing their weight, learning their curve.

"Simon," I breathed, holding his gaze as he began to gently knead my breasts, his fingers plucking at the tight tips.

I didn't remember it happening, but somehow my robe had come off and I stood before them in just my nightgown. Simon's hands were warm, even through the thin layer of fabric between my skin and his. From my periphery, I saw Cross lean in and kiss my neck, then work his way down to the juncture with my shoulder.

"Oh!" I gasped again. I had no idea my body could elicit such feelings, for as my nipples felt the hot sensation of Simon's playing fingers, somehow between my legs I felt swollen and aching and my core clenched in need. Yes, in need.

His lips worked the narrow strap along my shoulder to slip down my arm, the cool air in the room raising goose bumps on the exposed skin. Cross' mouth continued to lave my shoulder and neck as his hand slid over my hip. Rhys was not idle in all this, for as soon as my nightgown fell off one shoulder, he inched the second strap off my other shoulder as well, and the garment was held on my body solely by Simon's hands cupping my breasts.

I placed my hands on top of Simon's to keep him from letting the material fall, for I was naked beneath. He grinned.

"Like having your breasts played with?" he asked.

Cross and Rhys each brought a hand up and gently pulled mine away and back to my sides. While their holds weren't tight, they were insistent. Simon kept my gaze as he pulled his hands back and the nightgown slid to the floor at my feet with the slightest whisper of sound.

The men froze, their gazes riveted to my body for I knew they could see
everything.
With their hands back on my wrists, I felt gently powerless. I closed my eyes, blocking them out, but I could
feel
them looking at me.