Their Conquered Bride. Grace Goodwin

      1

       Elizabeth

      I leaned my elbows on the dried wood railing on the small balcony of our second floor hotel room and sighed. The dark night did nothing to hide a woman’s cries coming from the room next door. I should have been sound asleep hours ago, blissfully unaware at this time of night, except I was restless and worried. Soon I would no longer be Miss Elizabeth Lewis. No, in two short days I would meet my new husband, Mr. Samuel Jenkins, and pray that he looked upon me with favor. A bit of desire would be nice as well.

      When a woman’s soft calls reached my ears, I tossed back the tangled covers and followed the noises outside to peek into the next room, worried that the cries she made were caused by pain. As my bare feet pressed to the wooden planks under me, the unmistakable sounds of carnal pleasure reached my ears.

      She wasn’t in pain, at least not the kind she might want to escape.

       I would not look.

       I would not look.

      Damn it. I looked, and clenched my legs together at the scene playing out. This woman was most definitely not being harmed. With their balcony door wide open to take in the warm night air and the candles lit on the small nightstand, I could easily see into their room.

      On the bed, a woman was on her hands and knees being fucked from behind, her long dark hair swinging in a wild braid over her shoulder, half of it loose and falling. While I was a virgin, I knew exactly what the word fucking meant; I’d just never seen people doing it.

      My first thought was that she was a prostitute, for surely no decent woman would be so eager or willing, so dirty. I had spent many sleepless nights imagining fucking. I’d thought the woman would be on her back, legs spread, but this… oh my! My imagination had not done it justice, for I had expected the act to occur between a woman and a man, not a woman and two men! Two! The shock of this vision was so carnal and wicked that my pussy clenched beneath my nightgown and I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to.

      The animalistic sounds escaping from the woman’s throat made me bite my lip and hold back a moan of my own. My heart skipped a beat as the woman’s cries of encouragement reached me.

      “God, do it, Xander. Do it. Fuck me harder. Fill me up.” The woman was a dark-haired beauty, lush and curvy, just like me, which was a curse because it wasn’t difficult to imagine myself there, between the two handsome men, begging to be taken and used, begging for more. The man behind her, Xander, had dark hair and a rugged beard. He was pure muscle, his firm grip on her hips nearly lifting the woman off the bed, her breasts swaying, with each hard thrust as he plundered her with his hard cock. I watched as the thick length disappeared inside her pussy over and over, coated and glistening with her wet welcome. He wasn’t gentle with her, just as she’d begged.

      “Fuck, Tyler, she’s so tight. Do you think she’s ready to take both of us?” Xander asked, his voice dark and rough. I watched, mesmerized by the way the taut muscles in his buttocks and lower back flexed every time he pushed inside her. Xander was stockier, with a massive chest and muscled body I longed to touch. It was his thick cock that had me mesmerized, easily the size of my wrist. My own pussy clenched at the thought of being breached by something so massive.

      Where Xander was dark, Tyler was fair and beautiful as he knelt in front of the woman, his long cock jutting from the light-colored nest of curls between his bent legs. She stroked him with her hand, from the thick base to the flared crown. I wanted to be that woman, taken by one dark angel and one light. A striking contrast.

      It wasn’t just the sound of Xander’s hips slapping her bare bottom with each stroke, or the wet, slippery sounds of fucking that made me shiver in the night, unable to move, unable to look away. No, it was her face, her