Felicity Finds Out

“Marc!” Felicity gasped.

“Shhh,” Marc hushed her, catching the busty blonde’s hands as she reached to touch his bruised ribs. “It’s fine.”

“No, it is certainly not fine,” Felicity said, shooting him a concerned look with her brow furrowed tightly. She was utterly adorable, giving him that look, but he knew that she was more than just an adorable face.

“There were some… issues at the poker event,” Marc said. “Issues that I had to handle.”

“She got you into a fight?” Felicity scowled.

“To be fair, ma petite fée, the fight was not her fault.” Marc let go of Felicity’s wrists and carefully guided her hand to the bruising, letting her press her hand against it. They were supposed to go out for dinner and then come back to his apartment for their usual fun, but Marc had decided that after the events of Saturday evening, and the long day of work recovering, he would order in instead. “The Detective was, in fact, quite cross with me for feeling that I needed to handle the issue instead of letting her handle the man in question.”

“Oh, Marc,” Felicity sighed, feeling the warmth of the bruise and looking into his eyes. “Chivalry never died, it just took a trip to France and decided to stay there for a while, didn’t it?”

Marc smirked a little. “Chivalry was born in France, ma petite fée. Somehow the English have convinced the world that they were the birthplace of knights, just like so many other things.”

“Lay on the couch,” she ordered, moving her hands up to start stripping his dress shirt off the rest of the way. She’d been waiting for him when he got home from work, having let herself in, and had been working on her thesis until she had put it aside as soon as he’d entered. It had been the wince of pain as she hugged and kissed him that had tipped her off.

Marc sighed, but let her boss him around as she stripped him down to his briefs and then had him lay down. Sometimes a little role reversal, in small ways, only highlighted their desired roles when they flipped back.

Felicity didn’t remain clothed for long. She quickly stripped off her knit sweater to reveal her wonderful curves and the bright red lingerie bra that was managing to contain her bust. Her tight jeans went next, revealing the matching panties. He’d bought them for her a year ago - at this point, her entire underwear drawer at home and at his apartment were entirely Marc-purchased lingerie. Properly attired, she sauntered to the kitchen, knowing he would be watching her ass, and pulled out the jar of coconut oil and came back with it. She mounted him carefully, settling her butt down on his thighs, and then ran her hands up his back.

“If it had been me there, instead of the Detective,” she murmured. “What would have happened?”

“I don’t know if anything would have been different,” Marc said. “Not the way the events occurred.”

“She didn’t lead the man on or anything?” Felicity asked. “Maybe trying to get him to reveal some nugget of information she could use?”

“No, Felicity,” Marc said softly. “The Detective was ‘on duty’ so to speak, but not trying to rush things or take risks. She made it clear she was not receptive to the man, and several hours later he pushed things again. If it had been you, perhaps you would have manoeuvred yourself to stay closer to me while I was in the card game, but that may not have even mattered.”

“Mm,” Felicity hummed, opening the jar of coconut oil and starting to rub some of the gel into her palms, warming it up.

“And if he’d tried with you what he tried with the Detective, the fight would have been different,” Marc said. “I would not have used it to discover more about the host, and I would have been perhaps a little more emotional.”

“Emotional?” Felicity asked quietly as she pressed her hands to his lower back and started to massage him.

“You are a beautiful, capable woman, ma petite fée. With many skills, and an intelligence that is as pointed as my own, just in a different area,” Marc said. “Sinead has different skills. Self-defence being one of them. I was not so worried about him touching her because he was touching her, but because of what her reaction would be. I fought because he touched her, but I was not angry. With you, I would have been angry.”

She sighed softly, sliding her hands up his back. “Oh, Marc,” she said.

The massage lasted a while, and at some point, she disposed of her bra and her big, pillowy breasts pressed against his back and she kissed and nibbled on his neck. When she asked him to turn over he did, and she sat on his stiff cock, their underwear between them, and slowly ground her pussy against his stiffness as she massaged his front. Once her hands had rubbed the oil into every square inch of his torso, she leaned back down and pressed her tits to his chest as she started to slowly make out with him.

They were only interrupted by the knock at the door.

“The food,” Marc said.

Felicity sat up, a little smile on her face. “Should I answer the door like this?”

“It would be the greatest tip they ever got,” Marc chuckled, sitting up with her and palming her now oily breasts, giving them a loving squeeze. “But you’re mine tonight, ma petite fée. Rien qu’à moi et à personne d’autre.”

She kissed him, and Marc kissed her back firmly before encouraging her to dismount from his legs so he could stand and rush upstairs for a robe. First, dinner. Then he would remind her that he was the one who gave orders in his house. And she would laugh, and bite her lip, and do exactly as she was told with a joy in her eyes.

It would be a good night.

<U>Translations</U>
- Rien qu’à moi et à personne d’autre. = Just me and no one else.

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