“Do you still ache?” he asked as I let go of my legs, let them fall openly to the bed.
I could only nod.
“Then there’s only one cure. My cock.”
“And mine,” Lane added, almost arguing.
“Yes, the doctor says you need a number of doses of cock, administered by a good fucking. Are you ready for your treatment, Piper?”
I grabbed my knees again and pulled them wider apart, stared at Spur’s eager cock. “Oh, yes.”
Leaning forward on his hand, Spur looked down at me, smiled gently, even though his body was tense with need.
“Trust me, this won’t hurt a bit.”
He slid in then in one long, slow, thick stroke. No, it didn’t hurt in the slightest.
Arching my back, I took him a touch deeper. “Yes,” I breathed.
The feel of Spur above me, in me, was different than Lane. The scent of him wasn’t the same, the feel of him in me, the way he moved, the way he touched. Different. But not any worse, or better. Just as good. Where Lane was insistent and perhaps a tad ruthless in his fucking, Spur was deliberate and focused, his eyes on me the entire time. It was as if he could see and sense what I needed by looking in my eyes, watching the way my breath caught, my skin heated, my hips shifted, and gave it to me.
Taking one ankle, then the other, he placed them up on his shoulders. Instead of being splayed open as I had before, my thighs were pressed together, but Spur’s cock slid easily into me, the angle so different, so direct that the head of his cock nudged me deep. I couldn’t wiggle, couldn’t adjust and had to take what he gave me.
“Like that?” he asked.
Every time he filled me, his hips slapped into my stinging bottom where Lane had spanked me. While Spur’s fingers weren’t still deep in my bottom, the nerves there tingled and pulsed and I was so close to coming again.
I tossed my head back and started to beg. “Please. I need it. I need more.”
Lane tangled his fingers in my hair and tugged, turning my head so I had to look at him. His tight grip had my scalp awakening and my focus sharp on him, even while Spur continued to plunder.
“You’ll come. Don’t worry, Spur will give it to you. He’ll give you just what you need.”
He lowered his head then and kissed me. This wasn’t the kiss from the livery. This was wild, his tongue finding and tangling with mine. With his hand tightly holding my hair, I could do nothing but kiss him back. He swallowed my cries of pleasure, my begging, everything until the need coalesced and I came. Still he kissed me, still Spur fucked me.
I gave over, once the pleasure eased, and relented to their control, to their fervent attentions. Only then did Lane lift his head, stroke his thumb over my tender lower lip. And only then did Spur come, thrusting deep and groaning as his seed filled me, mixing with Lane’s.
When he pulled out and tucked me into his arms, my head resting on his shoulder, I realized I didn’t ache anymore. The doctor had been right.
***
“Tell me, precious, how someone like you wasn’t married by now. Surely you had a long line of suitors.”
I was once again in Lane’s shirt. Just his shirt, and sitting on his lap. I wasn’t the least bit modest this morning. After what they did to me, how could I be? While there seemed to be a dining room large enough to seat twenty, he seemed to prefer the less formal worn kitchen table where we sat now. He was feeding me bites of ham from his fork. I could certainly feed myself, but I was enjoying Lane’s playfulness. I was ravenous for breakfast since I’d worked up quite an appetite. I fell asleep right after Spur claimed me the first time, but I remember quite well, just before dawn, when he’d fucked me from behind as we spooned. I’d cried out as loudly as the rooster out the open window and it only made Lane wake up eager for his own turn. They were like two little boys with a toy, wanting equal play time.
I took the time to chew and swallow to think of an answer to his comment. It had prompted me to the fact that they thought I was Patricia. It seemed they knew nothing about her from the mail order bride agency, but her name. If they’d known distinguishing features, it would have been obvious from the start of my lie. My red hair was not the least similar to Patricia’s fair locks.
“As I said, I have five older brothers. No male came within ten feet of me without one, or even two, of them chaperoning. As you can imagine, when they carried their rifles they scared them all away.”
I felt Lane stiffen beneath me. “Did your siblings hurt you?”
I turned to look in Lane’s eyes, shook my head. “Oh, no. It made me so mad, their ridiculous behavior, but I had to remember they were protective because they love me. But I wanted my own life. My own house. Husband. Children. I didn’t want to be trapped, on the shelf, taking care of them. I wanted a real marriage of my own.”
“On the shelf?” Spur asked. He sat across from us, sipping his coffee, his plate empty. He’d pushed back his chair so he was leaning back on the rear legs. “You’re what, twenty-one?”
“Twenty-two,” I corrected. “And you? Surely neither of you have lacked female attention.”
I didn’t like to think of any of the women who they’d been with in the past. Based on their performance in bed, they hadn’t been virgins.