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  She stood proud when Trace pulled aside the curtain. As expected, Simon happened to be standing where he could see her. He even had time for a saucy wink before the curtain fell. Her obstinate body reacted to him almost as it did with Trace, throbbing for fulfillment.

  With Trace gone she could think. She crossed her arms and turned her back on them all. What they wanted, what she wanted, was a sin against the church. But then, what good had the church done her? They said it was God’s will that women obey men in all things. She was to accept chastisement as her father or husband considered necessary, no matter how brutal. Her body belonged to her husband and her soul to God. She was only the vessel.

  No.

  Her body, mind, and soul belonged to herself. And she’d do what she wanted, when she wanted, how she wanted. And right now, she wanted some time to herself. Her husband, along with his handsome brothers, would have to live with it.

  “Sy was right. Your bottom is like a juicy ripe peach.”

  She shrieked and whirled around, one hand up and one down to cover herself. Jack lounged against the doorway.

  “Yep,” he called over his shoulder. “You’re right about the melons, too.”

  “Out of the way, Jackass. Beth’s hot.” Trace elbowed past, an enamel pan in his hands. The curtain fell into place behind him.

  “Sure is,” said Jack through the thin material. “But she ain’t the only one.”

  Beth glared at her husband.

  “Don’t mind the twins,” he said. “They wanted to see what a lucky man I am.”

  “You may never get lucky again, Trace Elliott.”

  “What’s the matter, Beth?” The smile playing at the corner of his mouth sent her fury higher. His fingers unbuttoned his shirt. His wide chest, so comforting to lean against, appeared. She gulped.

  “What’s the matter?” she echoed. “Your two brothers just ogled me like, like, I was a basket of fruit! Don’t you care that your brothers want to touch me?”

  “Oh, I care, sweetheart,” he rasped. He unbuttoned and kicked off his pants. Her eyes automatically dropped. She gulped as the source of her pleasure swelled. “I care so much it’s killing me.”

  He stepped forward. She retreated until her back touched the bedpost. She grasped it behind her back to keep from reaching out to him.

  “Know what’s really making me want you?”

  He slid his fingers through her damp curls. She shivered as he stroked her flesh, stoking her heat. Heart pounding, she watched his eyes darken.

  “Knowing that my brothers seeing you naked makes you hot and wet.” He leaned down to inhale the scent between her breasts. “Simon wants you,” he said, kissing his way down her chest to her belly.

  She clenched at every touch, knowing what he’d do when he reached her core.

  “Jackass wants you.” He gently encouraged her to spread her feet apart with the backs of his hands. “And I want you. Now!”

  He knelt between her wide legs, passed his arms between her thighs, and lifted her above his mouth. He hummed into her cunny, the vibrations spreading outward like a pebble in a pond. He shifted her sideways and pressed her bottom against the mattress. She lay back when he lifted her legs over his shoulders and, just as he had the first night, explored her.

  He spread her pussy lips wide with two fingers, his eyes wide in wonder. He lightly trailed a finger along her inner lips. He followed that with his tongue.

  She forgot about his brothers. About the curtained door. About everything but his magic tongue and fingers. She writhed on the bed, gasping and moaning, begging him for more until she crested.

  He stood, held her hips with fingers damp from her release, and finally joined their flesh. She writhed, eyes closed, as he filled her need. Standing, he pumped, slow and steady, bringing her higher once more.

  A greedy mouth engulfed her breast and she arched into it, reveling in the extra sensation. Trace’s hands clenched her hips and plunged harder, faster. She gasped when a mouth captured her other breast and looked up. Three hungry pairs of eyes focused on her. Someone tweaked her clit and she exploded, Trace’s roar barely registering over the blood rushing through her ears.

  Chapter Nine

  “I will kill him,” she muttered. “Slice off body parts and stew them. Starting with the sausage between his legs. Then I’ll start on his brothers.”

  Beth faced the wall, curled on her side with the covers clenched tight. How dare his brothers touch her without an invitation! No matter how wonderful it felt, she wanted control. It was her body they’d pleasured!

  “No you won’t, sweetheart,” growled the voice that sent her anger, and libido, soaring.

  “Why not?” Her growl was almost as gruff as his.

  Trace lay down behind her, spooning on top of the sheet. He slid his hand over her breast and pulled her to him. “Because you like the idea of sharing with us.”

  “It’s wrong!”

  “Says who?”

  “The Bible! Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife!”

  “We would never do that.”

  She shoved his hand away and tilted her head to look at him. He lazed on his side, chin on one fist, the other now fingering her hair. His organ was hard. Again.

  “Yes, you would. Simon and Jack covet your wife. Me!”

  “They’re not neighbors.”

  “You know what I mean!”

  He pulled her close. No matter how much she struggled to escape, he was too strong. She couldn’t move with his arm holding her chest, his leg holding both hers down.

  “Beth, we Elliott boys have been together all our lives. When Ma and Pa died, I was sixteen, already a man. My five brothers and sister were between nine and fourteen. The MacDougals took in the youngest four and they helped as they could, but they moved to Texas to get away from the miners. Me, Jack, and Simon kept the ranch going and each other alive by sharing what we had. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give my brothers. Nothing.”

  “That doesn’t mean I want to give them anything!”

  He kissed her nose as if she were a kitten. She tried to bite him, but he growled a laugh and pulled back.

  “I said this before—we wouldn’t make you do anything you didn’t really want to.”

  She glared.

  “Yes, I’ll push a bit, but if you said no, I’d stop.” He drew circles over her breast with his finger, right around her areola. She slapped a hand over his to stop him. “Remember when we played near the wagon? You thought someone watched, didn’t you?” She hesitantly nodded. “Thinking one of my brothers might watch, didn’t you perform a little? Throw your head back and lift those breasts high when you rode me?”

  Heat rushed up her belly in memory, but she didn’t answer him with words.

  “Simon and Jack are in the barn, hard and horny after helping to pleasure you. They’ll spend the night there, but I doubt either of them sleeps. They don’t want to embarrass you.” He choked back a laugh. “Okay, more than they already have.” He grew serious. “They’re men, Beth. Grown men with a man’s needs. Not only are you the only woman available, you’re beautiful. Of course they want you!”

  She muttered, “Thanks a lot,” not meaning it.

  “That you’re so hot and eager, so smart and feisty, only makes us want you more, Mrs. Elliott.”

  She inhaled a deep breath and then sighed it out. Why get angry when he praised her for the very things her parents hated?

  “What are you going to do with me?”

  “Right now? I’m going to hold my wife in my arms until we both feel better. Then I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

  She sighed and relaxed. No matter how angry, she felt wanted in his arms. Safe. It meant so much after a lifetime of knowing no one wanted her.

  “And after?” He rolled her to her back. He nuzzled her cheeks, then lips, slowly and sensuously. He rolled his tongue under her upper lip the way that drove her wild. He nibbled her earlobe and then kissed her until she half-melted. “What h
appens after is up to you,” he panted.

  She looked up at him for a few minutes while he brushed her hair back from her face.

  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  “I’m frightened.”

  She tried to stop her lower lip from quivering but couldn’t. Neither could she stop tears from leaking. They slid toward her ears like molten lava, branding her as a coward.

  “We’ll protect you. Big Joe can’t touch you here.” He licked them up, following their path with sensual kisses.

  “That’s not it. I know you’ll protect me.” She ran her fingers through Trace’s chest hair. “It’s just that…oh, I don’t know.”

  “Is it Simon? He’s a big man, almost as big as me. Ugly as sin, but he’s my brother so what can I do?” He shrugged, jiggling her a bit as the bed bounced. “Does Simon scare you?”

  She pulled her lips in, fighting a smile since both men looked so much alike. She shook her head.

  “If not Simon, it must be Jackass. He’s a smooth-tongued devil. Loves flirting with the ladies but he’s too bashful to do much about it. Does he scare you?”

  Again, she shook her head.

  He sighed heavily and looked away. “It’s me, then. My ugly voice scares the hell out of most people, why should you be any different?”

  “You don’t scare me. I think you’re a wonderful man.”

  “Then who’re you afraid of?”

  “Me.”

  “Why?” He settled behind her, holding her close. She bit her lip, fighting tears.

  “You can tell me anything, Beth. I’ll never leave you.”

  “What if I fall in love with all of you?”

  “Love?” His heart, behind her shoulder, pounded so fast she thought she might get a bruise.

  “I know you won’t ever love me, but I accept that. To my parents, I was a something to use. When I refused their orders, they threw me out. I’ve only known you a few days, but I’ve never loved anyone like I do you. What if I lose you…will Simon and Jack care for me? What if they find wives and bring them back here? Then what happens to me?”

  “You…” He cleared his throat. “You love me?”

  “Why else would I want to be with a man who makes me so mad I could just spit, yet I want him to strip me naked and take me right now, hard and fast?”

  His heart sped up another thousand beats a minute, pounding against her.

  “Sweetheart, you get me so riled up I don’t know whether to spank your sweet bottom or thrust so deep you can barely breathe.”

  “You try to spank me, Trace Elliott, and I’ll make sure every biscuit you eat is burned to a crisp!”

  “I told you never to challenge me, wife.” A slow smile spread over his face, lighting even his eyes.

  “Or what?” she demanded.

  * * * *

  Beth shrieked when Trace flipped her belly onto his thighs. He ran his palm over her back, up and over her luscious bottom. The vixen fought him, trying to push up. This is what he wanted in a woman. Fire and passion. He grinned like a fool, already hard for her once more. He used his right ankle to hold down her legs, his left hand on her back. She bucked, thrusting her sweet bottom high. Her womanish talk of love scared the hell out of him, but this he could handle.

  She squealed when the flat of his palm hit her flesh with a loud smack. She struggled as he watched his handprint turn white, then a rosy pink. She raged, fighting hard to escape. He gave her a smack to match on her other cheek, causing another squeal. He released her legs enough to insinuate a finger between her thighs.

  As he expected, she didn’t try to escape. Plunging deep, he brought tell-tale moisture up her crack. “Fight me as hard as you like, woman. I’m the one in charge.”

  “You better sleep with one eye open for the rest of your life.” She screamed her words, kicking her feet up and down.

  Another smack and she jerked. He inhaled her nectar, evidence of what she really wanted. He drew her freely flowing juices back and pressed against her asshole. The top of his finger easily breached her and she shivered. He could tell she’d fought to hold back the moan that escaped.

  “That’s it. Take me deeper.”

  He released her legs in order to spread them farther apart. He added a second finger to his backside exploration. He pulsed his fingers in and out while spreading them apart to widen her opening. She mewed a complaint when he pulled out. He flipped pillows under her belly and set her atop them, legs wide and bottom high. He gave her one last love tap and she quivered under him.

  “Don’t move!”

  He strode to the kitchen, smeared a few fingerfuls of lard on a plate, and returned. She hadn’t moved. Her rear end faced him, back arched to thrust her white cheeks high, each marked with his hand. Her pussy and bottom glistened with moisture. She panted hard, as did he.

  He spread some lard on her hole. His finger slid in so easily. She moaned. He took his time to stretch her. More lard, then an additional finger. When she was eagerly pushing against all four fingers, he took position behind her.

  His beautiful, smart wife knelt before him, offering herself to him, to do as he pleased. As they pleased.

  Her golden hair clouded the bed, her smooth back rising to deep back dimples above plump buttocks. From here, he could see her swollen pussy weeping for him, clenching to pull his cock deep inside her.

  He nibbled the patch of dark freckles on her left butt cheek. They almost looked like a ring. He kissed his handprints, still pink against her paler flesh.

  When he took her virginity, though she was eager, she’d been tight. He was the first man she’d taken in her mouth and she’d enjoyed it. And now, he’d be the first to take her ass.

  Only when he’d been her eager first all three ways, would he share her.

  “Tell me if you’re not okay. This may hurt, Beth. Tell me to stop if you need to.” He smeared lard over the swollen purple head of his cock, rested it against her tiny hole and pressed. She relaxed and her tight pink ring expanded, opening to him. Damn, he wanted to see his thick cock disappear between her ass cheeks, hearing her moan in pleasure as she took him this way.

  “I see a ring of pink, Beth. That means you’re ready for me. Push me out,” he said. “It will open that sweet hole and let me enter you easier.”

  He placed both hands on her cheeks and forced them apart. Stretching her wide like this would make it easier for her to take him. Suddenly his wide purple head popped through her tight ring of muscle. As when he’d broken her maidenhead, he stopped and let her adjust to him. Though he’d done little to build up a sweat he felt like he’d spent the day hauling logs.

  “How is it?”

  “Mmm. More,” she murmured.

  Inch by slow inch, he eased himself into her. This first time, he went in only half way. Holding himself in his fist to limit his depth, he worked in a slow rhythm, quivering one hand on her pussy.

  She was so hot. So tight. So needy. He fought the incoming wave of orgasm with everything he had. Her trust in him finally overwhelmed him.

  “I can’t last, I…” He pulled almost out, then back in, unable to release her. He caught her clit between his fingers and squeezed.

  “Oh, yes. Yes!”

  Beth’s scream of release brought his own. Pumping fast but shallow, he extended their pleasure until they fell to their sides, still together.

  Chapter Ten

  Simon set his shovel down and wiped the sweat off his forehead with his dirty right sleeve. Jack spotted him and headed over from the corral.

  “We don’t need a new shitter, Sy. There’s still some room left in the old one.” Jack leaned over to inspect the freshly-dug trench. “I came home early to put the door back on for Beth.” Acting as a self-appointed supervisor, he pointed to a corner that wasn’t quite square.

  “Don’t want a door,” replied Simon. “It’ll stink worse than an old miner leaving his cabin after a three-week blizzard.” He set his fists on his hips and stretched out his back.
“I’m digging this one just for Beth.”

  All day while Simon worked he thought about Beth’s reaction to the surprise. How she’d rub liniment on his sore muscles after supper. Though he ached from nose to toes, the part swelling against the buttons below his waist needed her touch the most.

  “If you’d told me, I might’ve stuck around to help.” The toe of Jack’s boot nudged the dirt pile so that a clump fell into the hole. Simon pretended he didn’t notice, part of their unending game.

  All six Elliott boys resembled each other physically. Their personalities were different but all were hell-raisers. At least, they had been the last time Simon saw them, seven years earlier. Back then Jessamine, thirteen and next in line after Jack, still had the Elliott stubbornness. Since there was no word of her settling down with a husband, Simon doubted she’d changed much.

  “Couldn’t say anything at breakfast with Beth right there, then you grabbed the last of her buttermilk biscuits and lit out. By the time I finished my coffee, you were gone.”

  “Eating those biscuits made riding a little more tolerable.” Jack cupped himself, wincing.

  “That’s why I spent the morning digging this trench wearing these loose old pants.”

  “Better you than me,” taunted Jack.

  “But I was near in case Beth needed help with her bath.”

  “A bath?” Jack swallowed hard. “You see anything?”

  Simon lifted his shovel and went back to work, ignoring Jack’s mutters and letting the silence stretch. He had far more patience than the man three minutes younger. He tossed a shovel’s worth of dirt and rocks on Jack’s boots.

  “Dammit, Sy. Tell me!”

  “I get your next helping of dessert.” Simon waited for Jack’s jerked nod of agreement. “Beth didn’t have a bath, but she scrubbed the floor after dinner. She said she needed a strong man to dump the bucket.” He set the shovel on the ground and climbed out. He used his one inch height advantage to look down on Jack. “Better take your boots off before going inside or you won’t get supper.”