Mr and Mrs

Taking three giant steps, I go to her, taking her away from what’s holding her and bringing her to where I was standing. There are words being said, but I hear none of it, only speaking when prompted. I spend the entire ceremony smiling at my bride and whispering to her how beautiful she looks. Her cheeks are pink the entire time, embarrassed at being watched by everyone and by my repeated words. I think I say it to her a thousand times, but I just can’t stop myself. She’s just so incredibly perfect, and I love her more than I ever thought possible.

After the ceremony, I don’t let go of her hand. People ask her to dance, but I refuse. It’s the one day I can be as selfish as I want, and I won’t have her taken an inch from my side. I hold her close as we sway to the music, waiting on the moment when I can take her upstairs. I want her to enjoy her wedding day and have all the moments she’s been planning for, but I’ve had about enough of sharing her.

“Are you ready, my love?” I lean down and place a soft kiss on the bare skin of her shoulder. She leans into me, pressing her soft curves against me. When I feel her nod, I pull us away and drift into the shadows, away from the party.

We’d taken a drive out to the country right after I’d asked Molly to marry me. When she saw the peach farm, she made me pull over so we could take a look. The older couple who owned it were nice enough and allowed us to have a picnic there on the property. By the end of the day, I’d convinced them to let us have our wedding there. He said it should be good luck because he and his wife had been married on this little farm and celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary that year. It was all too perfect, and I was thankful I was able to give Molly what she wanted.

Our reception is held in the barn, and I have my car waiting out back for when she’s ready to go. After we sneak out, I drive up to the sound to a house I’ve rented for the week. I told Molly I would take her anywhere in the world she wanted to go, but all she said was she wanted me and nothing else for as long as possible.

When we get to the house, I make her sit still while I grab our bags out of the back and run them up the stairs into the beach house. I give the place a quick once-over, making sure that everything is in place before I go back outside and open her door.

She smiles up at me like I’ve hung the moon, and I vow right there and then to try to keep that look on her face every day for the rest of our lives. No one has ever looked at me like that. I’d never thought I'd want someone to. But I like it from her. No, I fucking love it. She’s so fucking sweet and innocent. I want to protect that.

Scooping her up in my arms, I kick the car door shut, and carry my bride into the house. The place has been lit with soft lights, and the kitchen is stocked, so we don’t have any reason to leave. I walk her to the bedroom. I see that the bed has been turned down and there are rose petals scattered across it. After setting her down gently on the edge of the bed, I kneel in front of her and just look at her.

She’s still in her wedding dress, smiling at me. It’s her first time, and our first time together, but she doesn’t look nervous. Instead she looks radiant, like she’s glowing. She didn’t want to wait until our wedding night, but I didn’t want anything between us. Ever. And if waiting meant getting her down the aisle faster, then all the better. I needed her to be mine the second I met her.

She reaches out, rubbing my face, and I can’t help the groan I let out at the contact.

“Let me go change.”

I reluctantly do so, and it takes all my will power to leave her.

Molly gets up from the bed and takes her small bag into the bathroom, shutting the door. I strip out of my suit, nervous with anticipation. I pace for a second, then think better of it and get in the bed under the sheets. Try to calm myself a little.

Minutes tick by, feeling like hours, and I’m debating whether to go into the bathroom when the door finally opens.

She’s standing there in the doorway with just a soft light on behind her. It’s as if she’s glowing. I nearly die of a heart attack when she walks towards me, my heart wanting to beat out of my chest, her sexy hips swaying with every step. I thought she would have worn something white, virginal even, but this come-fuck-me seductress at the end of the bed is the least virginal thing I’ve ever seen. My cock is standing straight up and dripping with need after only ten seconds.

“Holy shit,” I whisper.

She’s wearing a scrap of black lace that looks like a see-through ribbon. It ties around her neck like a halter top and runs down her chest, barely covering her nipples, to her pussy, but it doesn’t cover it. No, it goes right down the middle over her clit, letting her bare pussy lips swell over the sides.

She crawls up the end of the bed, stopping before she gets to me, and kneels. She spreads her legs wide, letting me see her and where the ribbon barely covers her wet clit. I know she’s wet because I can see the sticky moisture coating the inside of her thighs.

“Molly, I…” My tongue is hanging out of my mouth and I can’t form words.

Running her hands down her body, she doesn’t have an ounce of shyness about what she’s showing me.

“I didn’t want you to be gentle with me our first time, Phillip. I’ve wanted you and I’ve been begging since the beginning. I’m all yours now, and I want you to take me. Don’t hold back,” she says, making me wonder if she’s seen it. The deep need I have for her, so powerful that I try to hide it, afraid it will scare her because the truth is, it even scares me.