Her Marriage Lessons Read Online Emily Tilton

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 73013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
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“From now on, Dee, I’m going to touch you however I want, whenever I want, wherever I want. I know it’s going to be hard for you, but you’re my wife, and we’re going to try it my way at least for the next few days. Then you can call it quits if you want.”

As he spoke, his hand on my bottom moved further down between my legs. To my horror, my hips responded of their own accord. They moved within the very narrow range his arm and his leg allowed. They pushed my spanked bottom into his possessive palm. They told him that despite my modest upbringing and despite my refusal to let him deflower me before marriage—despite my denying him more lovemaking than our wedding night—his young bride’s body craved… something.

I felt the warmth of my sore butt-cheeks seep into the place where my husband had opened me with his hardness, where he had taken his pleasure despite my youth and my innocence. I whimpered at the terrible conflict inside me, between want and need, modesty and wantonness. I had the sudden fear that if his fingers kept moving, there might be a wet spot on my panties when I took them down.

“Now,” Rick said, his voice stern. “Lower these jeans, Mandy. It’s time for you to learn your lesson.”

I didn’t know whether he intended his caressing hand to have the effect it did—to make it more attractive to me to take my punishment rather than let him see how badly my body needed things a good girl should never need. Whether he did mean it or not, my fear of Rick seeing a wet spot on my panties overrode everything else. My husband must not understand, I resolved. He must never know that he had awakened in his bride the dark ideas that had flooded my mind—the ones that had started to arrive the moment Heather Franklin had earned her own trip to a private room for a marriage lesson, and didn’t seem to be letting up.

“Yes, sir,” I sobbed. I started to move my hands to my waist, and Rick loosened his grip to let me obey him.

A chime sounded from somewhere near the ceiling.

“Mr. Williams,” said Miss Perth’s voice. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but you’ve got fifteen minutes before you need to board your flight.”

CHAPTER 11

Mandy

We boarded the plane in silence. I tried to keep my face impassive, but when Rick put his hand on my ass and gave it a significant squeeze as we walked down the jetway, I felt a blush flood my cheeks. Knowing that the pretty flight attendant, just about my age, who welcomed us onto the plane, saw it—and watching her eyes go downward to take in the way my older husband had shown his dominance over his young bride—made me frown very deeply.

“Right here,” Rick said from behind me. To my astonishment, he indicated two enormous, leather-covered seats only two rows down from the cockpit. I looked at the row he had pointed to, and realized that I had somehow managed not to notice until now that we were in first class.

“Really?” I asked, even though I didn’t mean to contradict him, as contradictory as I felt about him and about our marriage, at that moment. My voice sounded harsh to me, though, almost scornful—as if I did indeed intend to question his authority.

A little thrill of fear went through me at the thought. My right hand went reflexively behind me, in a motion that to my distress seemed to have quickly become second nature. Rick had taken his own hand off my backside as we had begun to walk down the plane’s aisle single file. The ghost of the sensation of having it there—and the soreness in my butt from my first trip over my husband’s knee—made me turn to look over my shoulder in a mixture of anxiety with the emotion I had resolved not to name, or even acknowledge.

“Really,” Rick confirmed, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows slightly, as if he were inclined to overlook my apparent scorn, but wanted to make certain I knew his patience wouldn’t go on forever.

I felt my forehead crease and the heat in my cheeks grow. I pulled my hand away from my bottom and turned toward the window seat Rick still pointed to. Nearly overwhelmed by too many feelings to process, I hesitated.

“Go ahead and sit down, Dee,” Rick said, his voice firm. His hand returned to my bottom, and I had to bite my lip hard to keep from emitting a little cry of alarm and of… the other thing. My husband’s big hand held the seat of my jeans and propelled me forward, toward the plane window.

The burning pain in my butt-cheeks and upper thighs had faded to a lingering ache. That ebbing of the discomfort from my lesson in the private room almost made the problem worse, though. It focused my attention on the way the presence of Rick’s hand seemed to affect the entire region between my waist and my knees. It made me think of the thing I had almost done, in obedience to my husband’s command… the thing part of me had wanted to do, despite the shock and the embarrassment it caused in the rest of me.


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