by Ava Sinclair
My opinion on the matter caused some significant discord between me and my sister, whom I have helped support since her husband died. I will not divulge the ugly nature of the conversation we had earlier today, but I now suspect that her desire to see you marry Susan was more about securing your fortune for her security and her daughter’s than it ever was about a loving match for you.
So while I did intend to force your hand somewhat toward marriage to your cousin—which I thought was for your own good—please understand that I will bless a union with this woman you have selected.
Despite what Helen has said about your not seeing me again, I do not doubt your love for me, and hope that we will, for I do love you, my son, and look forward to greeting your betrothed with open and welcoming arms, and wishing her joy.
Your loving mother”
The room had fallen quiet, and the judgmental glances that had previously been turned on Simon were now directed at his aunt and cousin, who both sat with ashen faces and guilty expressions.
“I’ll hear not another word from you two,” he said to the pair. “Is that understood?”
Susan said nothing, but rose instead to smooth her skirts and walk unsteadily from the room, her eyes glistening with angry tears as she strode past Simon and Abigail. Helen did not follow her daughter, but sat where she was, knowing that any display on her part would see her excluded from her sister’s funeral.
* * *
The next few days passed in a whirl of activity. The funeral was solemn, and Abigail held the hand of her husband and comforted him as he shed tears of regret for not seeing his mother before she passed away.
The next emotion her husband would display was surprise. When the family barrister passed Simon a paper displaying the figure he was to inherit, Abigail was reminded of the day he’d looked with shock upon the paper showing her father’s debt. But this time the news was in Simon’s favor. His father had invested wisely, and Simon’s fortune was enough to easily repay Malcolm Barrow’s debt and keep them both in a state of comfort.
Simon decided to let out the family home rather than keep it, telling Abigail that while he knew his parents did the best they could, the place held more dour memories than happy ones, and he would raise his children in a home of his choosing.
“I’ve been thinking,” Simon said. They were in the carriage on the way back to London, and he pulled her onto his lap.
“Thinking of what?”
“Thinking of the perfect place to finish raising a sweet little girl named Abigail who still needs her father’s love and guidance before she is ready to assume the duties of a mother herself.”
“Oh?” she asked, curling into his chest.
“Indeed,” he replied. “And I have been imagining you running on green grass and breathing the clean country air. I think the outdoor suits you, and Hugh Brownlow mentioned to me that the physician in Hampshire is getting on in years and has been talking of taking his leave. So how do you fancy being the wife and ward of a country doctor? I still want to practice, you know, and could do so here without such risk of contagion.”
“Oh, papa!” She hugged him tightly, feeling happier than she’d ever felt in her life. “I would love it more than words could say.”
“I thought you would,” he said. “And it makes me so happy, for I do love giving my little ward exactly what she wants.”
Chapter Twelve: The Best Medicine
Somewhere from a distant wood, an owl was hooting. Abigail peered through the lace curtain that blew in the cool night breeze, hoping to catch a glimpse of it gliding over the meadow, silent as a ghost.
She could hear her Simon coming in from tending the son of a young man who’d fallen from his horse earlier in the day. As a village doctor, such evening visits were less frequent as they’d been in London, but his services were still needed at odd hours and he was always more willing to comply in what had become a slower-paced practice.
Abigail had been instructed to wait up for him, and to present herself in a particular submissive posture which she now adopted, leaning over the edge of the bed, her pale bottom even paler in the moonlight, the dark disc of the largest training plug visible from where it showed between her cheeks.
She heard him enter. He was silent as he moved around, undressing in the moonlit room. After a moment, the room filled with a soft glow. Simon had once told her that he refused to allow his wife to insist on lovemaking in darkness. He would see her, he said. He would see everything.
“I see my little girl has been very good while I’m away,” he said.
She turned her head now to look back at him, her eyes languid with smoldering arousal. “Yes, papa,” she said.
Simon reached between her cheeks for the flange of the plug, rotating it slightly. Abigail moaned.
“You’ve worn this plug for nearly a day now,” he said. “What did I tell you would happen once you’d easily adjusted to this larger one?”
Abigail’s pussy clenched as she answered. “You told me you’d take my last virginity,” she said. “You told me you’d put your cock deep in my ass.”
“I did,” he said, and she could see that he was stroking his cock to a state of readiness as he answered. “And are you ready?”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “I want to be filled by you.” Abigail pushed her bottom up, no longer worried about appearing the wanton. It was what her husband, her guardian, her papa wanted. And pleasing him was what she lived for. His care and protection and discipline kept her in a constant state of delicious, aching need. Knowing that he could take her any time he wanted in any room of their fine country home made for an existence of erotic bliss.
She moaned a little as he extracted the plug now. She could feel her bottom hole slowly closing, but knew it was still just relaxed enough to receive his cock. Oh, yes, it was time.
“Have you ever ridden a rocking horse?” Simon asked, and Abigail felt him raise her to standing.
She quirked a brow at him.
“I was thinking of getting you one,” he said. “But you should learn to ride first.”
“What does riding a rocking horse have to do with…?”
But Simon did not let her finish. He lay back on the bed, pulling her with him and she cried out as he impaled her onto his cock. Abigail felt the walls of her pussy begin to pulse around his length and groaned. Never had he been so deep.
Simon gripped her hips, showing her how to move, and telling her how he loved looking at how her delicious tits swayed in time with his thrusts. He reached up and pinched her nipples, the pain heightening her pleasure.
But when he was close to coming, he lifted her off and ignored her protests as he repositioned Abigail on her hands and knees. He rose on his knees behind her, and dragged his cock up through the slit of her pussy, rubbing it across the swollen, slick inner petals of her inner labia to coat it with her juices.
Abigail felt a moment’s apprehension as Simon’s cock nudged at the tight little posy, but she was ready. She’d been waiting for this moment, for his final claiming of her, and it felt right here in this, their first real home together. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, not wanting to wake Nurse Trinket who had remained in their employ as Abigail’s nurse, and who would serve as nurse to the children she would eventually give her husband.
“Are you ready?” he asked again.
“Yes.”
She pushed back, straining in the way he’d taught her to lessen resistance to his entry, and sighed as she felt the head of his cock begin to slip in. It felt so different from the plug, which was smooth wood. This was soft, firm flesh pushing past the band of muscles, stroking the core of her he’d not yet stroked.
“Ohhhh…” She put her face and chest down on the bed, hiking her bottom, offering it to him as he eased in by slow degrees. She could imagine how it must look, her bottom swallowing his cock, his black thatch of hair getting closer and closer to her soft white bottom until he was pressing against her, his middle flat a
gainst the springy softness of her cheeks. He groaned then, and she knew he was there, could feel the fullness of his cock.
“I’m going to move now,” he said, and it started slowly, the sting of it just painful enough to excite her. He’d reached underneath to find her clit and now pinched it rhythmically as he fucked her ass, his balls slapping against her mons, his fingers pressing and kneading.
Abigail’s climax was building, the pressure of the pleasure she felt almost dizzying. He slipped a finger into her drenched pussy while keeping one on her clit. She felt overwhelmed, overpowered, blissfully submissive as she gave herself—all of herself—to him. She was his little one, his to rule and plunder and love. And he’d given her so much more than she could ever imagine.
Simon came with a cry, filling her deepest core with his seed. Abigail pushed back with each thrust, wanting to feel him spend. The notion that he would feel free to fill her anytime, any way he chose made her heady with pleasure.
She smiled as he put his lips to the nape of her neck, and whispered into her ear that she’d pleased him, that she was such a good girl. Then gently, so gently, he rolled onto his side, taking her with him.
Abigail was facing the window. The moon was higher in the sky and the air was sweet.
On her last visit to see Lily, her friend had confided that the advantage of having a man’s cock placed in a woman’s bottom was that in late pregnancy, they could continue relations that might be otherwise discouraged. Abigail smiled now as she moved her hand to her belly. Tomorrow she would tell Simon that she’d missed her monthly bleed. They would be parents by the winter. She would give him another treasure.
She closed her eyes then and sighed, feeling like the luckiest little wife in the world.
The End
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More Stormy Night Books by Ava Sinclair
The Marshal’s Little Girl
When a young woman calling herself Wilhelmina James shows up at his town’s horse auction unescorted with a lot of sass and a lot of cash, Gage Chandler instantly gets a bad feeling about her. He’s about to blow the small town of Red Horse Gulch to join the US Marshal’s office, and this mysterious visitor is a headache he doesn’t need. After he agrees to check out the pretty blonde stranger to appease a local rancher left angry at being outbid, what Gage finds out about Wilhelmina quickly confirms that she is up to no good. But when she gives him the slip and goes on the run it changes both of their lives forever.
Once he catches up with the little firebrand, it isn’t long before she is over his knee for a hard spanking. As the sexual tension between marshal and outlaw reaches a fever pitch, Gage finds that Wilhelmina’s deep need for submission meshes with his own buried desire to completely dominate a woman, and soon enough he has taken her as much more than just his prisoner.
But Gage soon learns that his captive has a secret. Wilhelmina doesn’t just want to be his woman, she wants to be his little girl. She needs his love, his care, and his firm hand applied to her bare bottom when she is naughty. Though Gage is ready to oblige, the west is a harsh and dangerous place for a woman, even with a hardened lawman like him by her side. Can he keep Wilhelmina safe, or will the shadow of her past prove impossible to escape?
The Highlander’s Little Lass
As the daughter of a powerful highland laird, Glynis McLeod should have made a fine wife for any Scotsman. Having been deprived of discipline by her mother’s untimely passing, however, Glynis grew up wild and unchecked. As a lass of twenty, she has precious little respect for any man, let alone a husband her father might choose for her.
But even a doting father must obey his king, and when the king demands a marriage to ensure lasting peace between rival clans, Glynis finds herself the very reluctant bride of Bran McKinnon. Known as Bran the Bull—both for his size and his fearsome sexual appetites—he is a man accustomed to being obeyed, a fact which is quickly impressed upon Glynis when her lack of decorum earns her a bare-bottom spanking from her future husband in the great hall of her father’s castle.
As soon as Bran lays eyes on Glynis, he knows the fiery redhead is exactly what he's been seeking: a woman who needs both the firm hand of a father figure and the dominant lovemaking of a husband. With the help of her childhood nanny, Bran sets about training his feisty highland lass to be the obedient wife he expects. Blushing cheeks and a sore bottom quickly help Glynis become the good little girl her husband desires, but when danger threatens the king's peace, will Bran recognize in time that there's more to his young bride than meets the eye?
Ava Sinclair Links
You can keep up with Ava Sinclair via her Facebook page and her Goodreads profile, using the following links:
https://www.facebook.com/people/Elsa-Black/100009201447313
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7223083.Ava_Sinclair
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One: The Good Doctor
Chapter Two: The Reluctant Ward
Chapter Three: The Caning and the Caring
Chapter Four: Fatherly Advice
Chapter Five: A Good Little Patient
Chapter Six: An Unexpected Visit
Chapter Seven: The Runaway Bride
Chapter Eight: Lessons on the Bare
Chapter Nine: A Willing Little Bride
Chapter Ten: The Country Manor
Chapter Eleven: Protecting His Treasure
Chapter Twelve: The Best Medicine
More Stormy Night Books by Ava Sinclair
Ava Sinclair Links