Felicity

Three weeks ago, I graduated from high school. The next day, Harrison and I went on vacation to Hawaii for a quick trip as part of my graduation present. It seemed extravagant to me since we could only stay for four days, but Harrison had insisted that an occasion as important as my graduation called for a proper celebration. And ever since I mentioned that I’d never been outside of the state of Washington, he was determined to take me to as many places as possible before my pregnancy prevented me from traveling.

One week ago, I turned eighteen. Harrison had, in fact, put a ring on my finger—an engagement ring with a ridiculously large diamond that you could probably see from outer space. I cried when I saw it, and then laughed when he reminded me that he’d already completed the other half of his promise to me since I was pregnant. Then he flew me in a helicopter to Portland for dinner, adding Oregon to my list of states I’d visited.

Today...I was getting married. I’d expected Harrison to drag me to the courthouse on my birthday, and I’d cried some more when he told me he was willing to wait—an extra week—just because he wanted another day to spoil me each year. Not that he really needed the excuse. He spoiled me every day.

It was a good thing we hadn’t waited any longer because a little baby bump had made an appearance just yesterday. Since the dress I’d picked out for the ceremony was a mermaid fit, it didn’t hide anything. Not that there was much to hide yet—but I kind of loved that I knew that tiny flare of my belly was there on our special day.

I looked over my shoulder at the sharp knock on our bedroom door. “Ready, honey?” Harrison asked, poking his head into the doorway after he opened it.

“Absolutely.”

It was more than gratifying to see the heat build in his eyes as he got his first look at me in my dress. The groom wasn’t supposed to see his bride before the wedding, but since I didn’t have anyone to walk me down the aisle Harrison had insisted on throwing tradition out the window so he could do it himself.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” His voice was raspy and oh-so-close to the tone he used when he talked dirty to me.

“If you aren’t careful, I’m going to have to change my panties before you take me downstairs,” I warned him.

He smirked at me, stepped all the way into the room, and closed the door behind him. I took a few steps backwards as he stalked towards me.

“Stop,” I squeaked, holding my hands up. “Don’t you dare come any closer.”

“Is that any way for a bride to talk to her groom?” he teased.

“Yes, it is when the groom looks like he’s about to toss her on the ground and have his way with her...before the ceremony.”

“Give me the benefit of the doubt, honey.” He tried looking innocent but failed miserably. Even if he’d succeeded, the impression wouldn’t have lasted long anyway—not with what he had to say next. “I’d take you from behind, against the wall. That way, I’d limit the damage to your dress, hair, and makeup.”

A giggle bubbled up my throat as I shook my head. “As much as I’d like to say yes, my dress wouldn’t survive that no matter how careful you were. So there’s no way you’re getting this dress over my hips until after the ceremony.”

“You’re seriously underestimating your very-soon-to-be husband’s skills,” he murmured, snagging my hands in his as he nudged me towards the nearest wall.

As difficult as it had been for me to get the dress on earlier, it was easy for him to work it up my hips after he turned me around and pressed my hands against the wall. “Harrison,” I gasped when he shifted my white lace panties to the side and sunk two fingers inside me.

“You still want me to stop? You want me to leave your pussy wet and needy all through the ceremony?” he breathed into my ear, his body caging me in.

“No,” I panted, swiveling my hips to arch back against him. “Don’t stop.”

His free hand trailed down my back on its way to the zipper of his custom tailored tuxedo pants. He freed his cock and pressed it against my ass. His other hand continued to work my pussy, and I whimpered when his fingers left me.

“Shh, honey. I’ve got you,” he whispered, running his hard length against my wetness and then shifting his hips to drive inside of me. Hard.

“Yes,” I hissed.

“This is going to be fast,” he warned. “We’ve got guests waiting for us downstairs, and I’d hate to wrinkle your dress.”

I laughed, amazed at the sound considering the position I was in, but it didn’t last long as he went about driving me to a quick orgasm. The naughtiness of knowing we were going to be late for our own wedding because we couldn’t resist a quickie helped push me over the edge, with Harrison following a few thrusts later.

“I can’t tell you how much I fucking love knowing that you’re going to walk down the aisle with my come inside your pussy and my baby in your belly.”

After he helped me clean up and get my dress back in place, that’s exactly what I did.

Continue reading for a bonus, holiday story!