His Wife

by Ashley Hastings

  I remained silent, considering her words. What if she was right? My mother had said almost the exact same thing.

  "Did you know he proposed to her there, in New York City?"

  Shocked, my jaw dropped, and I gasped and turned to face her. “What are you talking about?”

  "That's right, Miss Turner. That is not where they met, of course. They grew up here as children, sometimes playing together. He followed her around like a puppy. She had many suitors after her as she grew, but none had the money or the clout that my Nathan has."

  She smiled her cold smile. "Nathan was the clear choice for her. Once he realized she was coming around to his way of thinking, he flew her out to New York for a romantic weekend. He proposed to her at the top of the Empire State building, and they came back here, hand in hand. So in love."

  I gripped the porch railing tighter.

  He proposed to Savannah where he had taken me on our first date. I felt betrayed as if he had cheated on me. My stomach hurt as I thought about the two of them standing in the same spot where Nathan had wrapped his arms around me.

  I closed my eyes and told myself I had to stop these negative thoughts. They were only making me crazy. After all, how could he cheat on me years before we even met?

  I opened my eyes. But why take me there on our first date?

  Was he using me to relive his precious memories of Savannah?

  I was so confused and despondent, so hurt. There was nothing I could say to Mother in response, and she knew it. Laughing softly in that irritating way she had, she went back inside and left me to my growing feelings of inadequacy.

  I paced the length of the porch. Was my marriage failing? We should be in the honeymoon phase, laughing and holding hands, shooting furtive, lusty looks at each other when we thought no one was looking. Instead, I seemed to be fighting a ghost for my husband's affections. I was in way over my head.

  My mom had been right. I was too young for this. Too unsophisticated for the dance I found myself in. A more mature individual would find a way to put Mother in her place, and build a bridge to Nathan. Even though we had never been close, I found myself wanting to talk to my mother right now.

  Pulling my cell phone out of my back pocket, I dialed her number.

  "Mom?"

  "Darby? I'm surprised to hear from you." She sounded as cold as Nathan's mother.

  My heart twisted. Already I knew I had made a mistake in calling her. What could she possibly have to offer me other than an "I told you so"? But she was my mom, and I needed a mom right now.

  "I'm not sure what I'm doing. I love him, but I’m feeling a little lost right now.”

  My mom didn’t reply, so I went on. “I love Nathan, but being married is hard sometimes."

  I fought hard to keep the tears from my voice, but I'm not sure how successful I was.

  She laughed. "Yes, Darby, marriage is hard. It's especially hard when you rush into it with a much older man who is obviously using you to relieve his loneliness." She paused a moment to let her words sink in. "Do you ever wonder why you are attracted to such an older man, instead of someone like Michael? Do you ever think maybe you are using Nathan as a substitute father figure because your father left when you were just a baby?"

  That hurt. I had never really missed having a father growing up. Many of my friends were the product of broken marriages, and it hadn’t been a big deal. But her words seemed to open an old wound I hadn’t even realized was there.

  Well, one thing I could always count on with my mother, she didn't waste time. She jumped right into her criticism of my life. What did she know about marriage anyway? My dad had left us when I was a baby, as she was so quick to point out all the time.

  I sighed in defeat.

  “How are things in Silver Falls?” I barely listened to her answer. I just wanted to go hide somewhere and cry.

  My mom rambled about Michael dating some girl he met on the flight home. Why did she think I would care about that?

  I told her how beautiful Peacock Alley was. When we were reduced to discussing the weather, I knew the call had run its course, and I said my goodbyes.

  Standing there all alone on the grand porch, I wallowed in my depression. I was happy that I hadn't engaged in an argument with my mom, but sad because I knew I wouldn't be calling her again for a long time. What would be the point?

  A slight breeze picked up, blowing across my face. It brought no real relief from the heat, but I lifted my face to it anyway.

  Suddenly, I detected a faint scent of jasmine and lilies in the breeze, and I shivered as if it was winter.

  Fifteen

  I spent the rest of that day wandering about the house aimlessly, but I was cautious to stay away from the library, or the sitting room that Mother preferred.

  Instead, I found myself in the Tapestry Room, one of my least favorite rooms. The tapestries that covered the walls were dark and dreary, and although I had learned they were cleaned monthly, they always seemed to have a light layer of dust and cobwebs. The room was small compared to the rest of the house with tapestries hanging on all four walls. The effect was claustrophobic.

  The only reason I came in here was because nobody else ever did. And, let’s face it, the depressing tapestries matched my mood.

  I idly glanced around the room and noticed a modern-looking, orange porcelain vase on the mantel, and wondered why it was in this particular room. It seemed out of place in the midst of all this history. It was somewhat tacky, on closer inspection. I really didn't think it belonged in the house at all. I picked it up and turned it slowly around in my hands, and I heard Nathan calling my name down the hall. Deep in thought, I was startled, and I dropped the vase, and it hit the granite fireplace hearth and shattered.

  Oh, no. My first thought was of Mother, and how angry she would be with me. How could I be so clumsy?

  I told myself to stop acting like a child, but in my panic, I reverted to childish behavior. I used my shoe to sweep the pieces of the vase under the settee and prayed no one would notice what I had done. Then I got down on all fours to finish putting the pieces out of sight. Before I could stand up, the door opened abruptly, and Mother came in and caught me on my hands and knees on the fine rug. Nathan was right behind her.

  "Miss Turner, what are you doing?" Mother’s face turned bright red, and her usually cold voice heated in suspicion. She came around the settee and spied a shard of the vase projecting from under the furniture.

  She was so angry that she sputtered her next words. "You are completely irresponsible. That was Savannah's favorite vase! How could you?"

  Really? Surely, she was making this up. Savannah seemed to have a personal connection to everything in the damn house. What were the odds, with all the vases in the house, that I would break Savannah's favorite one?

  Nathan crossed the room and held out his hand to me. He looked stern. Hesitant in my actions, I took his hand and rose to my feet. Embarrassed, I avoided looking him in the eyes.

  “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I was so clumsy.” My face got hotter with every word I spoke.

  "That's enough, Mother. That vase was no one's favorite. It was ridiculously ugly. Let Cook know that Darby and I will dine in our room tonight. We will see you in the morning."

  With that, he led me from the room and closed the door on Mother's recriminations.

  Back in our room, I regarded Nathan while shifting from one foot to the other. He no longer looked disapproving; instead, he seemed amused. I don't know what was worse, Nathan being angry with me, or laughing at me.

  "Behaving like a child? Hiding a broken vase from the grownups?"

  Nathan crossed to the end table and pulled out his silver cigar box. He lit a cigar and regarded me carefully.

  Suddenly I was angry. I felt a slow roll of furious heat move through my body like a tidal wave. It didn't help my feelings that Nathan was right.

  "Stop making fun of me." I was indignant.

  He stormed over to w
here I was standing, and confronted me head on.

  "Then stop being a brat. I can't believe I found you in there, on your hands and knees, hiding the pieces of that stupid vase."

  He grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me back down on to my knees. I cried out, surprised and dismayed.

  "If you want to be on your knees, Darby, at least do it like a grownup." The anger had left his voice. We could have been discussing dinner plans or any mundane topic from the way he sounded.

  He unzipped his pants and pulled out his penis. I was shocked to see that he was hard already.

  Nathan took my chin. He looked into my eyes for a long moment, and his expression was almost tender, a direct contrast to his actions.

  "Make yourself useful." One hand grabbed the back of my head, and he pressed himself into my mouth. Choking a little, I gazed up at him. "Suck. Use your tongue, and mind your teeth."

  Nathan continued smoking his cigar while he watched me. With one hand he stroked my hair, reassuring me without any words that I was doing okay.

  Dear lord, this was hot. I liked it when Nathan was forceful, even if he was angry or impatient with me to start.

  I obeyed his commands with alacrity. Tentative at first, I sucked on his length, and then pulled my mouth away. I used my tongue to lick up one side and down the other. I took him into my hand to get better control, and I stroked him softly.

  His groan made me bolder, and my hand slipped down to cup his sac. I was overwhelmed by the contrast of textures. His shaft was hard but felt covered in the softest velvet. His sac was soft but contained his balls, which I couldn't help but view as the source of his masculine power. The faint saltiness of his skin was pleasant, and he smelled male and intoxicating.

  I went back to sucking, and now I was moaning softly, almost uncontrollably. Watching Nathan's pleasure turned me on nearly as much as his touch. His head had fallen back, and his hand kept rubbing the back of my head.

  He encouraged me to take more and more of his massive length into my mouth until he filled my throat and I could no longer work him with my tongue. He started thrusting into my throat, and I fought not to gag. Without warning, his salty cum filled my throat, and he cried out. I swallowed it all, and then I licked him clean from root to tip. His hand on my head trembled.

  Breathing hard, I sat back on my heels and waited for his command like a faithful and loyal dog. When his eyes found mine, I saw love and gratitude for my actions, and I was proud. Proud to be his wife, proud to have succeeded in my first blowjob, and proud to be kneeling at his feet. My satisfaction almost made up for my silly actions with the ugly vase.

  A knock at the door startled us both, and Nathan reluctantly zipped up. He turned to the door, and I slipped on to the sofa, wiping my mouth. Our dinner had arrived, and Nathan busied himself arranging the dishes on the coffee table in front of me. We both seemed reluctant to speak, to break the quiet, peaceful mood that had overtaken us.

  We sat side by side on the sofa without words. After eating, he pulled me into his lap and went back to stroking my hair. I had learned one of his favorite things to do was to wind my curls around his fingers. I was drowsy and content to stay quiet, but Nathan was now in a talkative mood.

  "Was I wrong to marry you, and bring you here?" His voice was contemplative.

  Hurt, I turned in his lap so I could see his face in the dim lighting. “How can you say that?”

  "I know I rushed you into marriage. That was a deliberate and selfish choice on my part. I didn't want to give you a chance to think about things, to come to your senses. I'm an old man compared to you, and I didn't want you thinking about missed opportunities you might have had with boys your own age. You should be going to parties, and flirting with different boys. Having fun like other people your age. Instead, I brought you to this museum of a house, and you are left on your own for long hours at a time." He sighed.

  I hadn't thought of it this way. He had given me something new to consider. Not that I regretted marrying Nathan, not at all, but I didn't know he had been worrying about how I was handling the transition. His words eased some of my hurt.

  “I don’t regret marrying you. I don’t feel like I’ve given up anything at all. Instead, I’ve gained so much.” I stroked his face with one timid hand. “I love you.”

  Nathan kissed me, his lips gentle, and then went on. "I wanted you for myself when I saw you in New York City that first day. I wasn't even staying in your hotel at first. I had already concluded all my business meetings before we met, and was on my way to the airport to go home. You didn't know that, I know. I saw you on the street, walking by. I was stopped in traffic, and you were smiling, and turning in circles, entranced by the city. It was obvious it was your first visit, and you were delighted by all the sights and sounds.” He sighed and continued playing with my hair, gazing off into the distance, lost in his memories of that day.

  “I had no idea you saw me on the street. You’ve never said anything about that before.”

  He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “So unsullied, and bright, and happy to just be on that dirty, overcrowded street. Everything else faded away when I saw you. I knew then I needed you in my life. I hadn't been happy for so long. I hadn't found the joy in anything."

  Afraid to break the spell, I didn’t reply. I willed Nathan to keep on talking.

  "I told my driver to stop when you went into the hotel. Then I went in behind you and secured a room. I heard you speaking on the phone to your mother, making plans to eat in the hotel restaurant later. I decided then and there to come to you at dinner and find some way to strike up a conversation with you. I don't know how I knew, but I was certain you would bring the joy back to my life. I was right."

  Touched, I shifted in his lap and laid a gentle hand against his chest. His words warmed me.

  "That asshole you were dining with made it easy. He was trying to get you into his bed, and he was very clumsy about it. I knew you weren't impressed with him, and I decided to make my move. I was making my own plans for you, and they definitely included getting you into bed, but my age would allow me to be smoother about it."

  He paused, considering his words while he smiled down at me with warmth. "Not that I was very smooth. I jumped you the first chance I got that night in that filthy taxi."

  I laughed a little and leaned against his chest. "I always feel like a child around you. I want to be older and more sophisticated for you, more like Savannah was."

  He pushed back from me a little and grabbed my face. Alarmed, I stared at him.

  "Don't try to be Savannah, Darby. That is the last thing I want from you. I want you to be YOU. And you aren't a child."

  He stood and swooped me up into his arms with a swiftness that caught me off guard. I clutched at him in surprise.

  "Now let me take you to bed, and prove to you that you aren't a child."

  Nathan set me on my feet next to the bed, and then he sat down, looking sexy and relaxed, and as always, in total control.

  "Strip down to your bra and panties, baby."

  Shy, I did as I was told. I kept my eyes downcast. Despite the many wonderful times we had made love, and knowing he had full intimate knowledge of my body, I still had an urge to cover myself when he stared at me with such intensity. I resisted the urge because I knew it would displease him.

  He was quiet as he checked me over from head to toe. I tried to see myself as he saw me, a thin redhead wearing a black lace bra and panties, standing submissively before him, waiting for his next command.

  At least my lingerie was of the highest quality. Nathan had given me a credit card right after we married, and I had used it to buy many gorgeous La Perla lingerie sets. In fact, we had spent one memorable evening with me in his lap at his desk in the library, surfing La Perla's website together, and picking out thousands of dollars of lingerie.

  The room had been completely dark; the only illumination had come from the computer screen, the only sounds had been my giggles and soon
, our low moans of pleasure. We frequently had sex in the library, and there was something about all those masculine furnishings that made me feel my most feminine and sexy.

  Now those purchases were paying off for me again.

  Nathan’s eyes roamed down my body. "Take off your bra."

  I reached behind me to unhook it, and then I slipped the straps off my shoulders, and shrugged the bra completely off, letting it fall to the floor. I couldn't help myself; I had to cover my breasts with my hands. My hair fell over one eye, and I gazed at him, feeling as vulnerable as a virgin.

  Nathan's breathing quickened. "Drop your hands, sweetheart, and come closer."

  I did as he asked. He grabbed hold of my hips and turned me, so my back was to the bed.

  His hands lifted to palm my breasts, and he massaged them gently. I felt the moisture pooling between my thighs.

  "These are your tits, baby. They are incredible. If I had my way, you would wander the estate naked at all times, so that I could feast my eyes upon your amazing body whenever I wanted."

  I moaned as he continued fondling me. I could feel his breath grazing my neck, and it turned me on further.

  "Tell me what these are." His voice was insistent.

  I hesitated, unsure.

  "Tell me. Do I need to spank you to make it easier for you?" His voice was gentle and hypnotic.

  I needed that spanking because he was right, it did somehow make everything easier. However, I decided to try to do as he wanted.

  "These are my tits." My voice was low, almost inaudible.

  He turned me back around to face him and leaned forward. His tongue lapped at my nipples, teasing each one in turn. He was feasting on my breasts, and I couldn't look away. Nathan began sucking them, softly at first and then with more vigor. I had to grab his shoulders because my knees weakened.