“That’s a good lassie,” he replied. “Maybe I will let you have some pecan pie.”
Amelia lay naked, sprawled on a thick quilt before the fire. Her husband sat cross-legged at her feet, massaging them gently.
“Are you happy, my love,” he asked, smiling as he took in the sight of her body, focusing on her pouty nipples.
“Yes and no,” she replied, a finger to her lips as she considered his question.
“Explain,” he growled.
“Well, I’m very happy you’ve forgiven me for being such a ninny, but I feel terrible for all my friends who were deceived. I’m happy I got to know your mother, and I think she’s wonderful.”
Hugh rolled his eyes. “Go on.”
“Oh, that feels so good,” she purred, arching her back.
Hugh bit her toe.
“Ow!”
“Start talking,” he ordered. “What else are you feeling?”
“Well,” she began with a sad pout. “I’m very unhappy you chose to beat me again. That really hurt.”
“Aw, you poor little thing,” he replied. “Too bad you earned every swat and probably more. You know it’s too bad you were never disciplined as a child. Then you would know the difference between a beating and a good old fashioned spanking. Maybe on one of our walks I should find a stick and teach you a thing or two. You know it’s legal as long as I don’t use a stick thicker than my thumb,” he teased.
Amelia gasped, sat up and grabbed his hand. Placing her palm against his, she shivered.
“That’s not fair. You have big hands.”
“Yes, I do,” he agreed proudly. “They come in quite handy, too, when dealing with a naughty bride.”
Amelia stuck out her tongue and flopped back down. Sitting was not pleasant.
Hugh grinned. “What else?”
“I’m a little worried about your mother and father. I really don’t want her to go away,” she said sadly.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it, sweetheart.”
“Why not?”
Hugh moved and suddenly his naked body was beside hers. Absently, she pushed a lock of his dark hair off his forehead.
“I would imagine by now he’s given her something else to think about.”
“Hugh, stop talking in riddles.”
“I’m pretty sure my father is not going to allow my mother to return to France.”
“How can he stop her?”
“The same way I would stop you, over my knee,” he said without an ounce of shame.
“No, your father would never…”
“Oh yes, he would,” he assured her. “Unless she did some fancy French pleading, she’s likely getting what you got this afternoon.”
“Oh no, he won’t hurt her?” Amelia cried, grabbing his arm.
“It didn’t hurt you.”
“How do you know?” she demanded. “You weren’t on the proper end to know.”
Hugh observed her scowl for a moment before flipping her over onto her stomach.
“You’re right, my love. I better inspect you for damages,” he said seriously. Leaning across her, he pinned her with his arm. Facing her bottom, he stroked it gently before holding his hand across both cheeks.
“It doesn’t look any different,” he informed her over his shoulder. “It does still feel a little warm,” he added as he clutched each cheek and gave it a little bounce. “Maybe there is a touch of pink left, but it’s hard to tell in the firelight. Should I give it a few spanks to see?”
“No,” Amelia squealed, kicking her feet.
Laughing, Hugh bent and kissed her bottom in several strategic spots.
“There. I’ve kissed it, so it’s all better,” he promised, rolling her back over with a laugh.
“You’re a dreadful tease,” she accused, hiding her own grin.
“I know. So tell me, how did you get so attached to my mother in such a short time?”
“I don’t know; I just like her. She’s different from every woman I’ve ever known.”
“In what way?”
“Well, she tells me things, things I want to know and she doesn’t get all embarrassed or act like my question is inappropriate. I admire that.”
“Yes, it’s always good to have someone older and more experienced to ask when you need information. You do know you can always ask me? I’ll tell you anything you need to know.”
Hugh was toying with her nipple and she couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not.
“You didn’t tell me about ‘la petit mort’,” she accused.
Hugh burst out laughing. Pulling her close, he kissed her hair.
“So my mother told you about ‘the little death’ did she?” he finally managed to ask.
“Yes, and it’s a good thing too,” she sniffed indignantly. “I’ve already died three times today.”
“Oh, Amelia, I love you,” he said, burying his face in her hair as he tried to compose himself.
“I love you too,” she admitted with a blush as she held him close.
Rolling onto his back, he pulled her on top of him, caressing her naked back and bottom.
“You may have to die one more time tonight,” he whispered, kissing her neck as his cock lengthened against her belly. “Think you can handle that?”
“As long as you die with me,” she replied, arching her neck.
“I wouldn’t dream of letting you go alone, now or fifty years from now, my love.”
Stevie MacFarlane
Hi, I’m Stevie MacFarlane. I live in a small rural community in Upstate NY, and I have been writing off and on for about twenty years in my spare time, although there wasn’t much of that with a husband, five children and an assortment of supposedly domesticated pets.
Over the course of my life I have been a waitress, social worker, cook, sewing machine operator and a fine die cutter. I swear I had no idea what I was doing, but apparently the ability to take a wire finer than a strand of hair, sharpen it and feed it through a wire die, was enough for them to keep me on. I also worked for a very short time in a meat packing plant where I got to stand in front of a machine that spit boxes of frozen chicken at me, that was fun!
Then there was the plastic plant I enjoyed for a spell. The heat and smell were bad enough, but the excess hot plastic needed to be pulled off the parts and put into a grinder. I believe they called this byproduct ‘spew’ or some such thing. I was not quite fast enough to separate the parts and still get the excess into the shredder, (picture Lucy in the chocolate factory) so I just tossed it behind me until they came to break me for lunch. By that time I had a mountain of twisted plastic taller than me! Needless to say, I just turned in my gear and went home.
So I must say that I enjoy what I’m doing now. Of course, being retired gives me more time to let the characters in my head entertain me and hopefully, you as well. I would love hearing from you at [email protected] and thanks for stopping by.
Visit her website here:
http://steviemacfarlane.com
Visit her blog here:
http://steviemacfarlane.weebly.com/
Don’t miss these exciting titles by Stevie MacFarlane and Blushing Books!
Changing Her Mind
Little White Lies
The O’Malley Brides
The Not-So-Lucky Bridget O’Malley
The Perfectly Naughty Bride
A Sweet and Sassy Match, Sugar Babies, Inc. Book 1
Match Me if You Dare, Sugar Babies, Inc. Book 2
Matched for Keeps, Sugar Babies, Inc. Book 3
The Last Match, Sugar Babies, Inc. Book 4
The Trouble With Abby
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Amelia (The Marriage Market Book 1) Page 14
