[Siren Ménage Everlasting: Erotic Western Ménage a Quatre Romance, M/F/M/M, spanking]
Just before boarding the Bride Train, outspoken intellectual Florence Peabody unofficially adopts two children to save them from a terrible fate.
Lawyer Benjamin Elliott is desperate to find the quiet, obedient wife he promised his identical twin, Ranger. Though he's decided never to marry, he enjoys Florence’s company. When she must produce a husband to save her children, he conveniently steps in.
Florence is everything Ranger detests, but he tells Ben that valley wives share their husband’s partners. Florence is hesitant until youngest brother Patrick welcomes her with a toe-curling kiss. With the most sexual experience, Ranger beds Florence the first time. For once, she lets go of reason and lets passion rule. When she wakes, she eagerly attacks Ben.
But Ranger’s tough guy attitude is too much for Florence and choosing between them is tearing Ben apart. Will Ranger open his heart, or must Florence leave?
Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Reece Butler is a Siren-exclusive author.
4 STARS: "ALL ABOOOOOOARD! The bride train is rolling again and historical, western ménage lovers are in for another great ride. Woot. Woot. I make no bones about it. I lurve The Bride Train series. You don't need to read the previous ones, but one of my favorite qualities about Ms Butler is how she includes all the previous characters in her books. And not just in a cursory way. They have very definitive roles to play in helping the new arrivals adapt. In this story, Florence Peabody meets Benjamin on the train. In an unexpected twist of fate, she's found herself the adoptive mother of two children. And while Florence and Ben hit it off, she isn't exactly the quiet, obedient wife he's promised to bring home to his brother Ranger. The fates have different plans though. In order to keep the kids from their meanie father, Ben is forced by the judge to marry Florence….. Ooooh. Ranger is going to be…. Less than happy. And that's where the story really takes off. While brother Patrick greets Florence with open arms, Ranger is faced with all his shortcomings and tends to hide from the new bride. He is more than willing to sneak in her bed and satisfy her for Ben, but he isn't so accommodating when it comes to the daylight hours. What a mess. And what fun! I love watching Florence discover not only her sexuality but her depravity. And I thoroughly enjoyed watching Ranger twist in the wind over the kind of woman he should never be attracted to. Certainly Ben and Florence got the ball rolling and Patrick charmed me, but it was Ranger who really stole the show. His character growth and Florence's self discovery kept me totally entranced. I'm giving it another thumbs up, y'all. Enjoy!" -- Michelle R, The Romance Reviews
Florence squared her shoulders and stepped forward, crowding her bosom against polished silver buttons. The official harrumphed, but opened the door and stood aside.
“You go first, Mary,” said Florence. “Your children are bigger and can move more quickly.”
Mary sailed past, following her chattering children. Florence had never set foot on a train before, much less walked between rattling carriages. She’d have to step between them with the train swaying. Then she must get herself and both children across the gap and into the next carriage before one of them fell under the rails.
She straightened her trembling spine. Since accepting Emma and Johnny into her care the day before and becoming an instant widow, she’d done many new things. Not all of them were pleasant, but she was a Peabody. Never would she shy from a disagreeable, but necessary, task.
Florence took a calming breath and opened the sliding door. She shivered as the roar of the wheels blasted her. Pressing against the open door for balance, she encouraged five-year-old Emma through first. Johnny, almost four, followed. She slid the door to the second carriage open, pushed the children forward and scuttled through. Just as the door closed behind her, the train went into a curve. The sudden jerking tossed her sideways.
She flailed her arms, hitting someone in the process. That someone grabbed her around her waist and pulled. Instead of the filthy floor, she landed in his lap.
“You all right, ma’am?”
The deep voice resonated through her chest. She looked up and found herself gazing into laughing hazel eyes. The color, tinted with a hint of green, resembled her great-aunt’s prized Italian marble table. Medium brown hair tumbled over her rescuer’s forehead. Someone had broken his nose at least once. His chin, below full lips, had a few thin scars to suggest he’d landed face-first on something hard. None of the men who’d scorned her the last few years had been damaged that way. Of course, they all avoided labor which might cause them effort or injury.
“You’d better stay on my lap until you get your breath back,” the voice murmured in her ear.
Warm air tickled the hair that had escaped from the braids circling her head. Strong arms, one around her back and the other on her thigh, warmed her almost as much as his thighs under her bottom. She should get up, but she’d never felt her body tingle before. Of course, she’d never had a man’s body touch her. Was this tingling what her well-married sister had taunted her about?
He chuckled. “I don’t mind holding you for a few hours, but your children look hungry.”
“My children?” She blinked up at him.
“A small girl and smaller boy are looking at you as if you are their mother.”
“Oh! Emma and Johnny!” She scrambled off his lap. She knelt on one knee in front of them. “Are you hurt?”
They shook their head as they stared at the man behind her.
“Is that your fancy man?” whispered Emma.
“Maman had a fancy man,” her new daughter continued. “He was very nice.”
“I don’t know what you mean, Emma.” She’d vaguely noted the man who caught her was well dressed, though a bit scruffy. Not what she’d call fancy.
“She wants to know if I’m your protector,” said the man quietly.
“Well, I suppose you are, since you protected me from falling on the floor.”
She heard him choke at her answer. Emma nudged Johnny. Both of them turned to the man. They smiled in a practiced way. Emma curtsied and Johnny bowed.
“Are you going to feed us breakfast?” asked Emma. “We’re very hungry.”
“Emma,” said Florence, her face heating at the girl’s impolite question, “this gentleman isn’t going to—”
“Yes, he is,” replied the man. He looked at all three of them. “I’m Mr. Elliott, and I would be pleased to feed you breakfast. I missed supper last night, and I’m mighty hungry. May I escort you to the dining car?”
“My name is Emma. Shall I kiss you now?”
Florence, too stunned to speak, turned until she could see both the children and Mr. Elliott. Though she smiled prettily, Emma’s chin trembled. Her free hand was curled into a white fist. When the man smiled gently and shook his head, Emma’s shoulders dropped, and she let out a breath. She gave Johnny an encouraging nudge. Mr. Elliott looked at her solemnly, then at Johnny.
“I’m not going to touch you, or your brother, unless I’m helping you, like I did your mother when she slipped. I’m not that kind of man. I will protect you and your mother, but without payment. You don’t have to pretend you like me.” He winked, adding a kind smile. “I won’t get mad if you’re hungry and out of sorts. Now, shall I escort you to breakfast?”
“I can’t ask you to—”
“You didn’t ask, madam. I am on my way home after being away for too many years. I would very much enjoy the company of a pleasant woman and her children.” He placed a hand over his heart. “My six brothers, sister, and many cousins would be horrified to think anyone would believe I would harm a woman or child.”
Florence tried to think as he helped her to her feet with a hand under her elbow. They were in public, it was daylight, and as a widow, she no longer had a reputation to protect. She nodded agreement. His answering smile changed his face, making him appear a bit rakish.
“I am Florence Peabody. Mrs. Peabody. These are my children, Emma and Johnny.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Peabody. Shall we dine and get better acquainted?”
He wanted to shuck his pants and slam into the sweet pussy right under his hand. But he’d wanted to do a lot of things over the years that never happened. He promised Ben she’d scream, and dammit, he never broke a promise.
“You like me doing this, Mrs. Elliott?”
“Oh, yes,” she whispered.
He kissed his way down her neck to her breast. When he pulled her nipple into his mouth, she groaned, arching up. “Ben and Patrick said you would.”
“Ben and Patrick?"
When she stiffened, he lifted his head and met her eyes.
“You’re Ben’s brother, Ranger?”
“Yep. You taste good.” When she didn’t reply or relax, he flicked her clit with his finger. She gasped and arched. “You want me to stop and get Ben? Or should I just keep going?” He touched her clit again. She whimpered as he rubbed his knuckles on either side.
“Ben said you were a smart woman.”
He kissed his way down her neck to her breast. When he pulled her nipple into his mouth, she groaned, arching up once more. He circled her nipple with his tongue, feeling all the tiny bumps. Another day, he’d investigate the color. Pink? Rose? Salmon? But tonight was all about touch. The quick nip he gave her nipple made her whole body tremble.
He smiled his kisses down her ribs and belly. Someday, an edge of pain might be what she needed to explode. Tonight, she needed a long, slow arousal. He knelt on the floor at the edge of the bed and pulled her hips toward him. He caught her by surprise and, by the time she gripped the sheets to stop him moving her, she was in position.
Florence grabbed the sheets, but Ranger already had her where he wanted her. She felt out of control, her senses far beyond anything she could ever imagine. The glass of wine she’d consumed while pacing back and forth had gone to her head.
No, it went to her entire body.
“What are you going to—”
“Shh,” he whispered. “Don’t think. Feel.”
“I don’t know how.”
His deep chuckle made her shiver. She could see the shape of his body between her legs. Was he going to put himself in her now? It was supposed to hurt, but—
Something smooth and warm flicked the center of her being. She gasped, every part of her mind concentrating on that spot just above the juncture of her legs.
“That’s your clit. Feels good?”
“Oh, yes!” She hated to beg, but… “Can you do it again?”
She dropped her head against the mattress and used her heels to lift herself closer to his busy tongue. She wanted the tingling he caused. Nothing could be better than this. If only it could go on and on.
He slid a finger inside her and pressed up.
She was wrong. This was ecstasy.
He continued with his tongue and finger. No, fingers. She couldn’t think, couldn’t move, could do nothing but feel her body. Nothing existed but his mouth on her clit, his fingers inside her. A tension coiled around her, binding her tight. Someone begged and cried, demanding more. She writhed, sobbing. A new sensation, this one against her bottom, intruded. She wanted it gone, wanted to only feel the other. The finger pressed into her and twisted.
She exploded, shattering into pieces, scattered into stars in the night sky.
She hauled air into her lungs, sure she would never feel anything so intense again.
But he started once more. He rolled her over and pulled her knees until her head was on the mattress and her bottom high. His hands pressed back her flesh and his tongue began again. This time, his tongue concentrated on the place between her opening and her bottom. His fingers probed inside her, pressing against her barrier, stretching her wider.
She whimpered when he stopped, but then something new started.
He moved her knees together. Something long and hard slid between her legs, against her swollen flesh, finally rubbing against her clit. Then it was gone, backing up until—yes!—once more it pushed forward.
His hands held her hips, holding her down.
“You like my cock, don’t you?”
She nodded, her face moving against the crisp sheets.
“My cock wants your sweet pussy and clit. This is your pussy.”
Something larger than his fingers entered her. It stretched her deliciously, in and out. A little farther each time, bouncing against her barrier.
She wanted more, but he pulled back and released her.
The bed dipped. He lay down and easily lifted her. She squawked, falling forward until her hands hit his chest and her legs straddled his. Her breasts dragged across his face. He chuckled, released her waist and took a breast in each hand.
Her pussy and clit throbbed, begging for more, but his hands felt so good where they were. He tugged her breast, sucking it into his mouth. Hot flesh surrounded her. His tongue pressed her nipple against the roof of his mouth. He released her, letting his teeth scrape on the way out. She groaned and shoved her other breast in his mouth. He did the same to it, making her pussy throb.
“Sit up a bit,” he said.
She did, willing to do whatever he wanted as every moment seemed more wonderful. He grasped her hips and lifted, shifting her back.
“Catch my cock with your hand and guide me under your pussy,” he said, panting the words.
She reached down, eager to touch the instrument of so much pleasure. She found it and was barely able to circle the hot, firm flesh with her fingers. She released him when he set her down on the length of his cock.
“Your turn to work. Rub back and forth on my cock. Let it scrape your clit.”