Claimed on my Wedding Night(2)
“Mom!” I blushed hearing her speak like that, although she did it all the time.
“Don’t tell me that isn’t why he’s marrying you. Why else would a horny nineteen year old pop the question?”
“Because he loves me,” I shot back. I tried to hold back the anger, but she had a certain way of pushing my buttons. She knew exactly what to say to set me off and she seemed to revel in it.
“OK” she said sarcastically and began to unlace the corset roughly.
“You know what Mom, you can go, thanks for your help today, but I can pick something up myself.”
She stepped outside, throwing me what seemed like a look of contempt before she left. As soon as she was gone, I breathed a sigh of relief and it wasn’t because I had been freed from the corset.
Two
That night when I got home, Mom wasn’t anywhere to be seen and I was grateful for that small blessing. I padded through the big empty house in my bare feet and came to Daddy’s office, where I knocked softly on the door.
“Come in”
I stepped into his world, which was so different from my own. A thick cloud of smoke hung above him as he puffed on a cigar and drained the last of a glass of scotch. They gave him room to think, he had always said, as he pounded away on his typewriter. He had always been a little old-fashioned, preferring not to get a computer, instead he sent his manuscripts off to the publishers and let them deal with it. Once he was done, he was done. That was his mantra.
My eyes ran over the huge stack of papers neatly laid out beside him and he put the cigar down, leaving it resting precariously on the edge of a wooden ashtray.
Seeing my face, he immediately sat up, “What’s wrong baby girl?”
“Nothing really, are you busy working tonight?”
“Don’t be silly, I always have time for my favourite girl. Now don’t you hide it from me, what’s going on with you? It’s written all over your face - weren’t you supposed to be going with your mother today, to get some things for the wedding?”
“We did.”
“Oh – I see. And did things not go to plan?” He knew the way my mother could be sometimes. They had gotten into arguments about it, which then made me feel guilty, as if I was coming between them.
“No, no, it was fine... She’s not here now, has she gone out?”
“On business,” he nodded. “So you can tell me what’s wrong”
“Do you think I’m a silly little girl Daddy? Is that the only reason Eric is marrying me – because I want to wait until we’re married?”
“What? Did your mother say that to you?”
I nodded and walked over to his desk, perching myself on the edge. “She’s wrong – let me tell you that right now…about so many things,” he muttered quietly.
I studied his face as he puffed on the cigar again and I couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. In his late forties, he had dark black hair, threaded with silver and piercing blue eyes. He was younger than Mom, though she would never admit it.
My mind returned again to his image, wondering what he looked like underneath the shirt, or even better; in the shower. I bit my lip and tried not to let it show on my face what I had been thinking.
“Have you ever thought about giving Eric the thing that you’re holding back?”
“No, I… I told you, I want to wait until I’m married.”
“But my girl, if you have no experience - no practice in it; how will you know what to do to please him? How will you know if he is any good, for you?”
Hearing him speak like that, sent a tingle rushing between my thighs and my puss tensed and began to soak at his words.
“You may want to learn a few things before you commit yourself, Amber. As lovely as your ideals are, men sometimes have needs and wants also.”
I nodded and walked away, closing his door behind me. What if he was right, should I just give Eric what he wanted? Would he still want to marry me after all that?
I ran upstairs and jumped into bed, burying my face in the pillow and lay there with everything he had said to me running through my head until I fell asleep, exhausted.
When I woke up, I pulled back the curtain and saw that it was still dark. I looked over at my watch. “02:15”
Lying in my old childhood room, in the same bed I had always had, I stared up at the ceiling and wondered what I was doing. What if I was making the wrong choices? Turning on my side, I heard the familiar trickle of water coming from the bathroom telling me that someone was in the shower.