Box Set #5: The Brides of Bachelor Bay Collection (All 5 books for $4.99)
Looking for adventure or to escape their troubles, five would-be brides journey to 1860s Washington Territory, where men outnumber women fifty to one.
In The First Bride by Sofia Hunt, Lizzie Prescott answers a "brides wanted" ad in order to protect herself and her sisters from a murderous uncle. She and her men must find love together in this untamed land.
In The Husband Contract by Bella Grace, Olivia, running from an unsavory fate back home, secures passage to the territory, but she is tempted by Jack and Aaron, and must choose between them or find a way to all be together.
In Patience is Their Virtue by Eve Adams, Patience Weber wants a change from her penniless life in Boston, not to get married, but she somehow manages to catch the eye of Adam and his mysterious manservant, Raven.
In The Bride Bargain by Sofia Hunt, after demanding to be released from her contract, the town gossip Lucy Riley is thrust into an agreement with two reluctant loggers with an agenda of their own. She vows to soften their rough ways, but they’ve vowed to tame her—in and out of the bedroom.
In The Banished Bride by Eve Adams, Amelia, the youngest and most beautiful Prescott, must fulfill her contract and marry or be banished, but regardless, she chooses to live a life of freedom. Andrew Gallagher, who released her from her contract after rumors of infidelity, returns after regretting his decision, only to find Amelia in a precarious position with his own brother.
In an era where land is as unsettled as the times, these brave brides fight for their right to live and love—always in threes.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Sofia Hunt, Eve Adams, and Bella Grace are Siren-exclusive authors.
Click on each cover for detailed blurbs, awards, ratings, excerpts, and reviews for each book in The Brides of Bachelor Bay Collection.
THE FIRST BRIDE
The Civil War had decimated the male population back East. The few available men in her hometown paid her no mind. She stood too tall, lacked the fine-boned features men favored, and was a mite sharp-tongued and opinionated. Only one man had showed interest, but that nightmare was over.
Besides, she craved adventure. Yet, travelling from the East Coast to Puget Sound in Washington Territory proved to be more adventure than she’d bargained for, with the storms and whatnot.
But they’d made it. Every one of them. She glanced at each of her two sisters standing in front of her on the railing. Olivia, the shy middle sister who’d rather be reading a book, shrank back at the sight of all that masculinity and gazed up at Lizzie, obviously overwhelmed.
“I just want to sleep on a bed that doesn’t pitch and roll all night long.” Olivia pushed her glasses up with the tip of her finger and squinted at the crowd.
“As do I.” Lizzie patted her sister’s arm.
“I’ll never set foot on a boat again.”
“It doesn’t hold much interest to me, either. But we’re here, and look at the reception we’re getting.”
“It is disconcerting.”
Lizzie couldn’t agree more, but for once, held her tongue.
“It’s impressive. All these men. I could swoon.” Amelia, the youngest and prettiest sister, assessed the crowd. Her sharp eyes missed nothing. “I see several possibilities.”
“With your fair appearance, you’ll have your pick.” Lizzie smoothed her wrinkled dress and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, aware of what a fright she must appear. Not that it mattered. She wasn’t here to marry, only to find mates for her sisters, good, kind husbands.
“Yes, you will. They won’t even notice us.” Olivia let out a deep breath.
Amelia smiled and squeezed Olivia’s hand. “You, Olivia, will also have no shortage of suitors.”
Olivia turned to Lizzie. “And you, too.”
“I’m twenty-five, way past marrying age.” Her age was the least of her problems.
“I suspect if you’re a female and still breathing, you’re marrying age around here,” Amelia quipped and waved her handkerchief at one particularly enthusiastic man who’d climbed a tall pole to see over the crowd.
“She’s right, you know.” Olivia peered at the men over the rims of her reading glasses.
“I have no desire to be subservient to any man.” She didn’t add why. They all knew why.
“Yet you would wish that fate on us?”
“The both of you wouldn’t consider it fate, but a pleasant task.”
“Very pleasant.” Amelia leaned further over the railing. Her cleavage caught the men’s attention as she waved at the group with her lace handkerchief. Lizzie prayed she’d marry Amelia off before she soiled her reputation as a lady. Her bold approach to men and her inherent recklessness worried both older sisters. Amelia barely avoided scandal back in Boston.
Lizzie looked into the crowd. One man stood back from the group, leaning negligently against a tree. With a big, muscled body, dark wavy hair, and a ruggedly handsome face, he’d attract attention wherever he went. He oozed authority in the way of a stallion in a herd of mares. His gaze slammed into her with an intensity which almost sent her reeling backward. He trapped her with a look and held her captive. With a knowing smirk, he tipped his stained hat at her. Lizzie’s body heated, and her breath sat heavy in her lungs, making it hard to draw a breath. Moistness grew between her legs.
Lizzie forced her attention elsewhere, but she could still feel his eyes on her, almost as if he’d physically caressed her. Shaken, she busied herself by grabbing her bag and rummaging through it. When she stole a glance in the man’s direction, he’d disappeared into the crowd.
Watching his brother fuck Lizzie so thoroughly and Lizzie loving every second of raunchy sex with his brother shattered Logan’s paper-thin control.
Not even allowing her a second to recover, Logan flipped her over onto her stomach.
“On your hands and knees,” he growled into her ear. She tried to comply, but her limbs wouldn’t cooperate. Lizzie sprawled on the bed and buried her head in the pillow. The little vixen was still recovering from her second orgasm of the night, but they weren’t done with her yet. Not even close.
“She’s not cooperating, is she, brother?” Gage grinned. He loved this part. Knowing the routine, Gage opened the drawer in the nightstand and removed a leather strap. He tossed it to his brother and waited.
“Lizzie, this is the last time I’m going to ask you nice. On all fours, now.”
“Please, not yet.”
Logan raised the strap and brought it down hard on her bare ass, leaving a nice red stripe across one rounded butt cheek.
Lizzie’s head shot up, and she screamed in surprise and pain.
“No screaming, woman. That’s one of the rules, remember?”
Lizzie nodded and struggled to her hands and knees, but she’d been disobedient and Logan liked obedience in his bed. He raised the strap three more times, leaving nice little crisscross marks on her ass, not hitting her hard enough to raise welts.
He nodded to Gage. “Give her something to do with that mouth of hers.”
Gage grinned. He knew what came next. Kneeling in front of her, Gage offered Lizzie his half-erect cock. “Clean my cock, hon, and don’t leave any of your juices on it.”
Lizzie bent her head to the task. Logan spread her knees wider and exposed her beautiful pink pussy. Raising the strap, he aimed and snapped it down between her legs, hitting his target perfectly. Lizzie threw her head back and let out an enraged scream.
“What the hell was that for?”
She tried to turn around, obviously pissed as hell. Gage held her shoulders, keeping her in place. That bit of attitude really turned Logan on. He’d tame this little wench or have a damn good time attempting to do so.
Tossing the strap aside, for he’d proven his point, Logan plunged his cock into her cum-drenched hole. He ground his crotch into hers, pulling out and leaving only the tip inside, he slammed into her again. She moaned and tilted her hips to take him deeper. That was his little Lizzie. In a few short weeks, she’d learned to love his cock as much as he loved her pussy. Withdrawing, he thrust harder, pushing her head into Gage’s stomach.
Gage guided her mouth onto his half-hard cock, and she sucked greedily on it. When it disappeared deep into her mouth, Logan buried his cock deep in her cunt. Damn, one of the most beautiful sights was watching his cock slide in and out of his wife’s cunt while she sucked on his brother’s cock.
Logan knew he wouldn’t last much longer. He also knew Lizzie liked her pleasure served with a little pain. Reaching underneath her, he pinched both nipples and twisted while he fucked her hard from behind. Gage muffled her cries by holding her cock-filled mouth.
Logan threw back his head and shouted his release. He pulled out and emptied his load on her striped butt cheeks. The thick substance splattered on her ass and ran down her legs. Logan rolled onto the bed and collapsed, as boneless as a jellyfish. He lay still for a moment, savoring the tempestuous emotions bombarding him. The sounds of Gage fucking her mouth drifted to him, sweet music to his ears, and brought him back to the present. Rolling over, he watched as Gage thrust his cock in and out of her mouth.
“Keep her occupied,” Logan gave Gage a brother-to-brother look, and Gage nodded. Time to start the next phase of his wife’s training.
Withdrawing completely, Gage grinned at Lizzie’s whimpered protest. “You want more, baby?”
THE HUSBAND CONTRACT
“I want it tighter.” Amelia turned to the side, examining the length of her figure in the looking glass Logan had given her sister Lizzie for Christmas.
Olivia laid her book down next to her on the bench at the foot of Lizzie’s bed. “If I pull those laces another inch, they will either snap to pieces or you’ll be resting your chin on your bosoms all evening.”
They had been in Lizzie’s bedroom for the past two hours while Amelia primped and preened her already-beautiful features and scandalous curves to practically sinful perfection. Olivia would like to pretend she had worried less about her own appearance for this evening because vanity was not the mortal sin she succumbed to. The truth of the matter was she knew that no amount of combing, dabbing, and corset tightening would disguise her plainness or her lack of enthusiasm for the outrageous flirting Amelia had turned into an art form.
Olivia sighed. In Boston, she had experienced impulses that drew her thoughts into arenas a true lady would never enter, but here, amidst the loosened morals of this wild Northwest Territory, her unspeakable impulses haunted her more frequently than ever. Almost daily, she caught herself daydreaming of big, strong hands, bare skin, pleasures of the flesh that could only be satisfied by all manners of indecencies she dared not drift into thinking about now. Heat rose up from her chest despite the wet winter chill that hung in the room.
She reached into her skirt pockets for a fan and fingered the cameo necklace her mother had given her. Ann Marie Prescott would turn in her grave if she knew such thoughts crossed her daughter’s mind. Olivia murmured a quick prayer for forgiveness and crossed herself. Surely it was simply the overabundance of bachelors at her disposal that gave her such audacious ideas.
She pushed her glasses up her nose with the tip of her finger. Her saving grace was that she hadn’t fallen in love with any of the lumber men the way Lizzie had. But with the increased frequency of her salacious fantasies, she barely trusted herself to go t the required social hours anymore. She feared she may meet an available gentleman she hadn’t yet noticed and that in the throes of infatuation she may not be able to control her Jezebelian impulses. The same uncertainties made her hesitant to attend tonight’s New Year’s Eve party. If she had a choice, she would remain in Lizzie’s parlor for the evening and allow herself to be seduced by her own wicked thoughts and the pages Jane Austen had so scandalously penned.
She lifted her chin and waved the fan in front of her neck. “I fear my head is beginning to ache. Perhaps I should stay in tonight.”
“Honestly, Liv, do you care to find a husband or not?”
Aaron stroked her arm and looked over at Jack. “We should let her choose now.”
Jack lifted Olivia’s hand. Her delicate fingers curled around his palm and the floral scent of her perfume sang in his nose. The trust in her eyes and the rosy blush that colored her fair skin undid something deep inside him. He swallowed the flood of emotion that welled in his chest. She was the woman he had searched for on both American coasts and abroad. She was intelligent, honest even when it may not have served her, fully trained in the social graces, and lovely in a way that took his breath away. She kept her sensual nature tucked away from prying eyes, but behind closed doors, she wasn’t afraid to give or receive pleasure. She was eager to learn the secrets of her body and theirs, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life making those discoveries with her.
“Who would you like to be the first to make love to you?” Jack squeezed her hand, hoping she would answer the way he wanted her to, but knowing she wouldn’t have an easy time answering at all.
Her perfect pink lips opened then closed again. For three long breaths there was only silence in the room, and then she began to rock her head slowly from side to side. Unshed tears pooled in her eyes, and a frown skewed her features.
“How could I ever choose? I want you both.” She looked from him to Aaron and then back again. Equally. I don’t know how to separate one from the other.”
Jack drew in a breath of relief and drew the sash from behind his back. “That’s exactly what I had hoped you’d say. I have a solution.”
* * * *
“Everything is more sensual in the dark.” Olivia could almost taste the sexual tension between them on her tongue as she lay in the huge bed between Jack and Aaron. Their skin felt smoother beneath her hands, their kisses wetter and hotter against her neck, her mouth, her breasts. The silk that covered her eyes heightened her hearing and her sense of smell. The low rumble of ragged breath and yearning drew her own breath out faster. The mattress shifted beneath her as the men moved. Hands covered her body, making every place they touched intimate. This was the fantasy she had dreamed for years. Hands and bodies moving together. She didn’t know who was touching her where or whose teeth nipped at her shoulder or whose cock was in her hand or between her lips. And she’d never enjoyed anything more in her life.
The hands held on tighter. The strokes against her skin became more urgent. Restrained strength tensed already hard, masculine muscles. Two cocks throbbed and strained beneath her touch. Breaths came faster and harder. A knee pushed her thighs apart. A rigid belly pressed against the softer skin of hers, and then the silkiest of heated skin slid over her clitoris and lower, spreading the folds of her most intimate place. The wide head hovered at her entrance, pressing gently.
PATIENCE IS THEIR VIRTUE
And then he kissed her. No, he didn’t just kiss her. He devoured her, sending spikes of arousal to attack the tender flesh between her legs in a shower of scorching need.
He weakened her resolve and shattered her resistance. She had to have him again, had to feel his touch. She’d die if he didn’t place his hands on her and love her, taking away the horrors of her morning.
“I love the way your pale eyes turn to an icy blue when you’re upset with me.” He bit at her lower lip. “And I am equally upset with you, my sweet wife. So much, in fact, that I’m afraid I must punish you.”
That didn’t sound good. She shuddered at the thought of what that might entail.
Raven cleared his throat. “Need I remind you that you have a staff?”
Adam reached down and ran the heel of his hand along the rigid bulge between his legs. “That I do.”
Oh, dear Heavens. She couldn’t stop her gaze from traveling down his impressive physique. Her mouth watered at the thought of the flesh beneath that fabric.
“Adam, you can’t be certain they won’t hear.”
Adam lifted the corner of his mouth into a crooked grin and scraped that wicked grin across her body. “I plan to make sure she is adequately preoccupied while we deliver her punishment.”
“What are you going to do?” Her chest heaved as she panted. Liquid pleasure burned between her legs, and her nerves throbbed angrily, demanding attention.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” Adam lowered her to her knees and motioned for Raven to join him. “Take care to keep her quiet.”
And then he disappeared behind her.
Raven, without a sound, pulled out a semi-hard erection and began to stroke it right in front of her. A single drop of glistening, clear liquid peeked out of its tip. “Sweet Patti, open your mouth.”
“You want me to take that into my—oh!” She didn’t get the chance to finish before Raven slipped his cock between her lips. With Adam’s urging, she fell forward to her hands. In one swift move, he had her skirts up around her waist and her drawers around her knees, leaving her exposed to him.
She was about to pull back when she felt the first strike against her bare backside. Gasping, she struggled, but Raven’s cock grew in her mouth, and she sucked greedily, eager to taste him, to please him the way he’d pleased her.
The next light tap didn’t strike her cheek. Adam had centered in on her dripping pussy and slapped it. She cried and sucked at Raven’s cock as sensations she never thought possible tore at her. Her need for more gushed down her channel, drenching her pussy and giving away just how much she enjoyed this punishment.
Adam spanked her pussy again and a surge of fiery lust shot through her. She moaned and slurped at Raven’s flesh in desperation. Just one more slap, maybe two, and she’d shatter.
But then Adam lashed at her with his tongue gently, too gently, and Patience rocked against him with a whimper. She needed more, so much more, or she’d die before her next breath.
Raven fisted her hair and powered into her, rocking his hips in steady motion as she took every inch of him. “Oh, yeah. That’s it, Patti. Suck me. I’m going to explode. Take it. Swallow my life. Suck me harder. Yes, that’s it. Yes. Just like that. Ah!”
Thick, hot semen jetted from the end of his erection and down her throat, and she swallowed all of the sweet, sticky liquid. Adam continued to lick her pussy slowly. Such torture.
“Please,” she whimpered. “You have to give me more.”
“This is your punishment,” he explained in a rasp. “We will drive you close to release but won’t allow it. Now turn around.” When she didn’t, he and Raven switched positions without a moment’s hesitation. “Another reason to punish you, my wife. You need to follow my instruction.”
She knew defying him at this moment as she knelt on all fours, her drawers around her knees, her skirts around her hips, really wouldn’t be the smartest move. But that didn’t stop her. “I–I take orders from no man.”
“Raven, be sure to show no mercy. Now, my lovely, defiant wife, it’s my turn with that sweet mouth.”
THE BRIDE BARGAIN
Tate sighed. He’d never be more to her than an occasional dance partner. While they’d enjoyed a casual acquaintance, her actions made it clear he didn’t suit her needs as a marriage prospect. Not that he’d ever propose. He’d been down that painful road before.
It didn’t matter. No decent woman would have him with the ugly scar marring his once-handsome face. Instead, they cringed at the sight of him. He knew his face scared people, except for his logging crew. They respected him, and his disfigurement actually added to their awe. His refusal to talk about the incident cast a certain air of dangerous mystery, which further kept the men in line.
His lumberjacks dismissed the jagged scar starting above his left ear and zigzagging across his cheek and under his chin. Women did not. And vain as it might sound, Tate hadn’t gotten beyond it either. He’d spent the better part of his twenty-eight years enjoying the benefits of being a handsome man. He’d spent the last three repulsing, rather than attracting, beautiful women. A weaker man might wallow in self-pity, but Tate wasn’t a weak man. Maybe his ego suffered, and his dreams of a family faded, but he still had his work.
Tate looked up when Lucy hit a particularly earsplitting note. Tipped back on her heels, Lucy flung her arms wide and thrust her chest forward. She belted out the last few notes with such passion Tate was mesmerized. He swallowed in an attempt to clear the obstruction in his throat. Her one-size-too-small dress hugged her curves, as her lush, pink lips parted in a near perfect O.
Despite being in God’s house, Tate’s wayward thoughts centered around various methods he could use to stop her singing. The good Lord knew if she made that kind of sound in his bed, he’d be obligated to shush her up.
He jerked his gaze away and drew in a sharp breath, irritated at the reaction of his body. His cock grew hard under his Sunday-best trousers. His heart thumped a little faster. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and covered his erection with his hymnal.
Damn, it’d been too long since he’d bedded a woman. Despite his situation, he refused to lower himself like many men who visited Madame Chen and requested her laundry service. Rumors had it her girls did more than a man’s laundry. Tate snorted. He didn’t pay attention to rumors. Facts were all he cared about. Whatever Madam Chen and her staff did behind closed doors was none of his business.
As soon as the service ended, Tate stood quickly, fully intending to hightail it out of there. His brother, Jason, cut him off at the pass. The spoiled and flirtatious Amelia stood next to Jason, her hand resting on the crook in Jason’s arm. Even though her smile appeared welcoming, she avoided looking at Tate’s face.
“We saved you a seat next to us at the table, brother.” Jason grinned like a fool, obviously flying high with Amelia at his side. Tate witnessed her in action too many times. She flirted with every eligible man in town—except him—and strung his brother along by his dick, one of a herd of admirers. Everyone in town knew Andrew Gallagher ranked at the head of that pack. Jason couldn’t compete with the Gallaghers’ assets or power. Even now, the usually glib Andrew stood across the room, arms crossed over his chest and an uncharacteristic scowl on his face. The fierce light of possession gleamed in his eyes. Tate sighed and hoped he wouldn’t be breaking up a fight before the night ended.
Turning away, Tate followed Jason and Amelia through the potluck line. His stomach rumbled. Food abounded, and he heaped his plate with a thick stew.
“Don’t.” Hattie Rose, the local innkeeper and former madam of a San Francisco brothel, stood next to him. The older woman’s strong perfume smothered the air around them, and he stifled a sneeze. Her red-tipped fingernails dug into his arm.
“Why?” He smiled, amused at Hattie’s reaction.
“Lucy made that dish.” Hattie looked up at him, one of the few women not bothered by his scar.
Tate dropped the serving spoon into the large pot as if it’d burnt his hand. “Thanks for the warning. I have to work tomorrow. It looked good. Her stuff usually looks as bad as it tastes.” Even the bravest lumberjacks with cast-iron stomachs avoided her dishes at the church potlucks.
Before he could move on to the next dish, Lucy rushed up to him. Her flowery scent swirled around his nostrils. His cock happily signaled its readiness to get down to serious business.
“Tate, don’t pass this by. It’s my signature stew. I know how you love my cooking.” Not giving him an opportunity to respond, Lucy heaped his plate full. Tate stood in line, holding his plate, fully aware others ducked past them in an attempt to avoid Lucy’s current culinary disaster.
Hattie raised one eyebrow and winked at him. “Good luck,” she whispered.
Taking a seat next to his brother, he caught sight of Lucy out of the corner of his eye. She sat next to her best friend Constance. The black-haired beauty sat next to Miles Petty, a cousin to the Gallaghers and also their nemesis, at a table on the opposite side of the room. Tate, nice guy that he was, always pretended to eat Lucy’s cooking at these potlucks. There’d be no pretending this time, as Lucy kept one eye on him. Steeling himself, he brought the spoon up to his mouth and forced himself to swallow. He forced a pleased expression on his face, which made Lucy smirk with pride.
Despite Lucy’s faults, he admired her ability to create her own reality, making her life what she wanted it to be. Dragging his eyes away from Lucy, Tate frowned and wondered why he felt a tug inside every time he gazed at this woman, who talked too much about nothing, couldn’t cook or sing, or keep a secret to save her soul.
Tate managed to choke down the entire plate of food. He congratulated himself on his cast-iron stomach as it growled in protest. His satisfaction was short-lived when Lucy hustled over to him, her roasting pan in hand.
“Tate, you’re one hungry man. Please have some more.” Lucy leaned over him to fill his plate. One ample breast rubbed his arm. He lost all ability to think as he stared at the bosom only a few inches from his face. Damn. Double damn. He wanted to rip her bodice open and fill his mouth with her rosy nipples, sucking and nipping at them until they were swollen from his mouth and red from the burn of his whiskers.
Oblivious to his discomfort, Lucy flounced off, leaving him with a raging hard-on and a protesting stomach.
Lucy danced around the room in the arms of her husband. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Jason watching them with what appeared to be longing in his eyes. He was probably wishing he was with Amelia. Why such a thought depressed her, she didn’t know. Perhaps she worried about his well-being.
Before she could figure out a way to draw Jason back into their little celebration, he turned on his heel and left the room. Tate caught her staring after his brother.
His gray eyes narrowed, but not in anger. “Meet me in the bedroom. Tonight.”
His words snapped her attention back to him. His husky voice promised more seductive treats were in store for her adventurous spirit. Lucy didn’t need a second invitation. The hot looks Tate cast her way during dinner and afterward heated her body and caused great moisture between her legs. Tonight he’d promised to tutor her in more pleasures of the flesh. She quickly rushed upstairs and readied herself.
Tate joined her a few minutes later. He stared at his wife sitting on the edge of the big bed.
“Shed your garments. Tonight it’s my turn to pleasure you.” His harsh voice set her back a bit even as it excited her. Lucy’s eyes grew big. An unexpected moment of fear clutched her. Lust burned in his eyes. Tate was obviously a man on the edge of losing control. And a very big man at that. She shrank back into the shadows of the room, abhorring her cowardliness.
He spoke more softly. “Take off your dress. I will not harm you.”
Of course he wouldn’t. Despite the fire burning in his eyes, his gentle words emboldened her. Lucy nodded as her trembling fingers fumbled with the fastenings on her dress. Tate removed his own clothes until he stood in all his naked glory before her. She’d never seen him completely naked before. Her pussy tingled with excitement at the sight of his muscled body. The man was magnificent.
“Lucy, your clothes,” he reminded her. She continued to stare at his chest, his cock, his strong legs, and at the many scars on those legs. She suspected each scar told a story.
Tate abandoned his patience. He stepped forward and grasped the front of her dress. He fumbled with the remaining buttons with his large fingers. Frustrated by his lack of progress, he ripped the bodice of her dress. Buttons flew across the room.
Lucy gasped, partially from shock and partially from irritation. “That was my good dress, sir.”
He gritted his teeth. “Tate. I’m now your husband, and my name is Tate. Tonight you’ll scream out my name.”
Words escaped her, a rare thing, indeed. She removed the pins from her hair. It fell to her waist in long, wavy curls. With a defiant toss of her brown hair, she pulled the torn dress past her hips and to the floor. The rest of her clothes followed. Naked, she shivered, but not from the cool night breeze wafting through the open window.
Tate swallowed. He flexed and unflexed his fingers, as if dying to bury them in her soft mane. “On the bed.”
Lucy considered defying him, but the look in his eyes vetoed that idea. She lay on the bed and waited. For what she didn’t really know. The women had enlightened her on how to pleasure a man, but she didn’t really know what a man did to pleasure a woman. Tate lay down beside her. She turned her head toward his. Their eyes met in silent recognition of their mutual attraction. Tate’s face moved closer. Lucy’s moved closer. Then all hell broke loose. Their lips clashed in a blaze of hot fire. His mouth ravaged hers, rough and demanding. She gave it right back to him, just as rough, and just as demanding.
THE BANISHED BRIDE
“Quick! We have to hurry!”
Noah ran into Logan’s office and stumbled to a stop, holding on to the back of the closest chair as he panted. Andrew and Logan exchanged tired glances.
Logan cleared his throat. “Are you attempting to outrun the devil, brother?”
“Quite possibly. This is a matter of life or death!”
Andrew shook his head. When it came to Noah, it was always a matter of life or death. “Are you sure the angry husbands of some of your quests haven’t finally caught up to you?”
“Joke if you will, but I assure you, this is serious.”
“Of course it is.”
“It has to do with Amelia.”
That caught Andrew’s attention. He pushed away from the wall. “What is it?”
“I was just at Madam Chen’s and spotted none other than that terrible uncle Lizzie has been warning us about.”
The power of Noah’s words sank in, and Andrew’s mouth ran dry. “You saw Robert Prescott? Here in Port Steele?” He jerked his gaze to Logan, who had the same concerned look on his face as Andrew surely had.
“Are you sure?” Logan asked as he stood.
Noah nodded at Logan. “Positive. He even referred to Amelia as his niece.”
“Son of a bitch,” Logan muttered and fell back into the chair behind the desk. He then sat straight as a board and leaned forward. “This does not get back to Lizzie, is that understood?”
“She has a right to know,” Andrew protested.
Logan nodded. “And as soon as I find out what he wants and then run him out of town, I’ll let her know he was here and gone.”
“That’s not fair,” Noah said, joining in on the protest. “Lizzie, Olivia, and Amelia have already gone through so much.”
“Exactly.” Logan nailed him with a penetrating look. “Why add to that without reason?”
Andrew and Noah exchanged glances. Andrew read the trouble brewing in Noah’s expression. There was already cause to add to the Prescotts’ grief with their uncle. “What is it, Noah?”
With a solemn look to match his tone, Noah said, “Robert Prescott means to take Amelia back to Boston.”
“Over my dead body.” Andrew growled and started for the door. “Come, Noah. We are going to pay a visit to Madam Chen’s and make sure the uncle knows exactly how unwelcome he is here.”
“Wait.” Logan brought up his hand. “This man is clearly insane if he thinks he can come back here and try this shit again. But he’s also dangerous. I refuse to have you two make Amelia a widow before she even marries. Let me talk to him.”
Andrew frowned and shook his head. “He’s not going to listen to you.”
“Yet you think he’ll listen to you?”
He didn’t have a comeback for that, so he said nothing.
“He’ll listen to no one,” Noah stated in an angry voice. “He was adamant as he spoke with Madam Chen. The man is back for Amelia. We can’t let him take her.”
Logan gave him a curt nod. “And we won’t.” He then turned to Andrew. “Find Gage. We need to talk about what to do about this.”
“And me?” Noah asked. “I should check on Amelia.”
“No!” Logan and Andrew demanded in unison.
“Why not? She could be in danger.”
“She’s not in any danger. That man won’t dare to attempt to kidnap her with Mildred around. If anything, she’s safest when she’s at the house.”
Noah clearly didn’t believe him. From the look on Logan’s face, he had his doubts as well.
“Let me free,” she whimpered.
“Not yet.” Noah kissed her as Andrew stopped his assault on her pussy. She whimpered a protest. “It’s my turn, Amelia. I can’t wait to taste your sweet pussy again. I’ve been dying for it.”
He dove between her thighs as Andrew hovered his mouth above her nipple. He locked his gaze with hers as he lowered his head down and drew her nipple into his mouth.
Their connection did nothing for her resistance. Andrew held her arms above her head with the help of the scarf as he feasted on her breast, while at the same time Noah overwhelmed her with his attack on her pussy.
“Oh, Noah. I can’t stand it. Oh, Andrew.”
“I’ve got to have you, Amelia.” Andrew’s breath against her skin whispered goose bumps across her body. “This time it’s my turn in your sweet ass.”
“Yes.” She loved it when he used such wicked words.
“My sweet Amelia,” Noah murmured against her sensitive nerves, and she jerked, the sensation too much. He stretched out and rolled her over on top of him. She would have crashed into him had Andrew not grabbed the scarf binding her wrists.
Noah lifted her hips and sank her weeping channel onto his hard cock. She cried out at the tight penetration and shifted, sending her deeper onto his shaft while Andrew held her wrists.
“That’s it, baby. Oh, yeah. Jesus. So fucking tight.” Noah dug his fingers into her hips. “Oh, Amelia. I can’t wait to make you my wife. Please, baby. Just say yes.”
He thrust deep, and she threw her head back. “Yes!”
“Say yes to me.” Andrew untied her wrists, and she dropped her hands down to Noah’s shoulders to hold on as he fucked her slowly and steady, driving her mad with want. When Andrew licked at her tender puckered entrance, she released a shuddering cry.
Andrew pressed the blunt tip of his cock against the tight entrance to her ass. When he rocked his hips and the hole loosened, allowing him penetration, it sent a rush of flames burning through her. He eased in farther, and she bucked her hips.
“Say yes to me.” Andrew growled from behind her. He pulled out and pushed in, over and over until his gentle, unyielding assault allowed him to sink all the way inside her rear.
“Say yes,” he groaned and held her hips so she couldn’t move. Hell, she couldn’t move if she wanted to. Noah was still buried deep inside her. With Andrew in her at the same time, she could barely cry out.
“Yes, Andrew. Yes!”
“I was first,” Noah said and slowly slid out, and then eased back inside the depths of her pussy. “And I didn’t have to beg. Ah, Jesus! Amelia, you feel like hot silk, baby.”
She couldn’t take it. They were killing her with pleasure. Could a person die from too much pleasure? She was sure of it. They were close to killing her. Oh, dear God. She’d never survive this.
“Andrew!” She screamed when he slammed into her ass, and felt the muscles of her ass clench around his cock.
Noah withdrew and then pushed back into her with a strong thrust.
It was sweet rapture, having both of them inside her at the same time. Every thrust pushed her higher, closer to the cataclysmic explosion that would release her from the torment.
When they both drove deep inside her at the same time, she threw her head back and screamed at the pleasure that burned so hot it hurt. One more invasion like that and she’d shatter.
“Make your choice,” Andrew demanded in a low growl.
“Do it.” Noah stabbed his flesh into her, and she cried out.
“I won’t.” And she wouldn’t. How dare they make her choose when she was on the verge of ecstasy?