Grace Goodwin - Their Conquered Bride

She scrambled to do as instructed and eagerly sank onto Tyler’s cock until the cheeks of her bottom were spread so wide across his hips that I could see the tight rose of her backside. She leaned over and captured her lover’s lips in a hot duel of tongues as Xander crawled onto the bed and settled behind her. He pulled and tugged on her bottom, spreading her open until I could see the soft, glistening pink of her wet pussy stretched around the base of Tyler’s cock. He spanked her ass again, over and over as she moaned and cried out, most of her cries buried in a deep and thorough kiss.

I rubbed my own tender flesh faster and harder, desperate to be filled with something to ease the ache, but I knew that would be too much to explain away should my sisters wake from where they slept in the bed behind me. A hand outside my gown I could explain away, but my nightgown up around my hips and my own fingers deep inside my wet pussy? Well, that one would mark me as the dirty, naughty girl my uncle had accused me of being.

God help me, he was right. I was unclean. Disgusting. No pure woman should feel wet heat sliding down her thighs simply from watching another woman, most likely a prostitute, enjoying two men.

Hell, no decent woman should watch this at all, but I wasn’t decent. I was broken. Damaged goods. My mother’s passionate nature was in my blood. I’d been corrupted by evil since before my birth and had never been able to recover no matter how hard I tried.

And I did try. I spent countless hours on my knees, begging the good Lord to take away my sinful thoughts, my lustful body, the ache between my thighs that longed to be touched. But he never answered my prayers.

I ached. I wanted. I lusted.

So when Tyler pulled and tugged on the woman’s nipples, I tugged on my own, mimicking his movements exactly. Xander rubbed some kind of oil over her back entrance and, using his thick thumb, worked it deep inside her. I moaned, then held my breath, hoping I hadn’t just given myself away.

No. The woman made noise of her own, more than covering for my lapse of control.

As Xander aligned his thick cock behind her, I shuddered. I had never imagined this. Not in a hundred thousand years would I have ever imagined something so wicked. I should look away. I should go back into my room and curl up on the floor next to my sisters’ bed and sleep.

I should at least try to save my soul, but just as my uncle had accused me, I was corrupted because I could not tear my eyes away from the sight of Xander’s giant cock beginning to stretch her forbidden place wider and wider.

Emily panted and gasped as he entered her slowly, Tyler still balls deep in her pussy, still playing with her hard nipples, still pulling on her hair.

I shuddered as my hand moved faster and faster. I wanted to feel it all, but I only had two hands, and one of them had to be on my clit.

The two men moved opposite one another, one filling her pussy as the other pulled out of her bottom, then reversing course.

She begged them to go faster. Begged them to let her come, but all her words earned her was another hard spanking and a reprimand from the dark-haired Adonis behind her. “You don’t come until I give you permission.”

“Yes, sir. Please. Please. I can’t wait anymore.”

The men glanced at each other—they worked in perfect harmony to give the woman pleasure—and Tyler, buried in her wet pussy, slid his hand first to her hip, which made her beg him to hurry, then between their bodies to the sensitive flesh on a woman’s body. I, too, stroked the same place beneath my gown.

The dominant one, Xander, fucked her harder and faster in her ass as Tyler worked her clit and pulled her hair, hard, arching her back and neck up toward the ceiling, opening her for their possession. They were thorough lovers, but still gentle with her. They watched her closely to ensure her pleasure, to ensure she was loving everything they were doing. “We know how you like it. Hard and deep. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes, sir. Please!”

“Arch your back. Get your ass in the air. We’ll give you what you need.”

She was shaking now, sweat dripping down her temples to roll down her neck to her breasts. Tyler licked it from her skin and I shuddered nearly as much as the woman who enjoyed the harsh rasp of his tongue.

With a grunt, Xander struck her bare bottom hard, over and over as she bucked and whimpered. I couldn’t imagine her liking how rough they were with her, but she did. She was wild as she was completely taken by both of them.

Finally, Xander set her free.

“Come now. Come all over us.”

It was like he was talking to me.

I shattered, right there on the balcony, my release rushing over me as the woman found hers.

It was the most erotic thing I’d ever done. The dirtiest. As my pussy convulsed and my body quaked, out of control, I kept my eyes squarely on the trio, watched the slide of wet cock in and out of her pussy, the hard thrust of the other in her bottom, and I envied her.

I wanted that, even a man’s cock in my bottom. Not some dirty old miner more than twice my age. I wanted a young man desperate to take me, to make me his. I wanted raw animal passion and a man who would make me shatter into a thousand pieces from pleasure.

I was jealous of a prostitute, and that proved once and for all that my uncle was right to send me away. He was right to disown me. I was dirty, my thoughts unclean. I was a bad, bad girl. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop.

Mr. Jenkins was my future, my soon-to-be husband. He would lay with me and make me his. I could hope there was passion in our bed. I did hope. I hoped he filled me with his cock and made me lose control, made me beg for release. And if not, then I had what I’d just seen to keep me warm on cold nights.

Tomorrow the stage would take me to Hayes where I would I start my new life as a respected, pious, perfect wife.

Tomorrow, I would be perfect. Tonight?

Tonight I would dare to imagine myself in that room, between those two men, being fucked until I collapsed into a weak puddle on my lover’s chest.

Ford

“She’ll be here any day now.” The bastard sitting across from me at the gambling table clenched his teeth around a stub of a cigar. “My mail-order bride.”

Logan and I, along with Evan, sat around the card table with the filthy old man playing poker. I caught his name when he and his two sons first sat down. Samuel Jenkins. With him were his two grown sons, Tad and Harry. The saloon was rowdy and crowded due to the afternoon’s cattle drive. The cattle arrived and brought with them a bunch of men who longed for cheap whiskey and loose women.

Logan, Evan and I, along with nine other men, were just passing through this town on our way to the Bridgewater Ranch and were eager to see the town behind us. If these three Jenkins men were the kinds of folk who lived here, I didn’t want to meet any more. They’d been talking nonstop, not of their bride, the innocent woman scheduled to arrive from Omaha in two days’ time to marry Mr. Jenkins, Sr., but of the wedding night.

“What if she won’t marry you, Pa?” The elder son looked close to my own age of thirty. He was missing his two front teeth and his lips were stained black with chewing tobacco. If possible, he smelled even worse than his father, who reeked of sweat and piss, his fingernails coated in unwashed black from working the mines.

“She’ll marry me. She ain’t got no choice. Ain’t no going back.” Jenkins slammed back his fifth shot of whiskey and I cringed for the poor, unsuspecting woman traveling to marry him.

“She’ll be wed to Pa, just like we planned,” the younger son said, his eyes wide with perverted glee. He had to be no older than twenty. “Come on, Tad, tell these soldier boys about the sweet pussy we’re going to get.”