I stood still as he slowly peeled me out of my dress, leaving it in a fluffy white puddle on the floor.
He ran his hands along my satin corset, slowly untying every string—unclasping every hook. When it fell to the floor, he bent down at my waist and took the bow of my panties between his teeth, tugging at it until it unraveled and joined my dress on the floor.
He stood up and looked into my eyes, silently telling me to undress him.
Compliant, I slid his jacket off his shoulders and unbuttoned his pants, seeing that he was beyond ready to make love to me. I slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and pushed it off his shoulders.
As soon as it hit the floor, he picked me up and carried me over to the leather chaise, gently laying me on my back. He covered my body with his, and even though he’d been waiting for this moment forever, he hesitated. Then he gently brushed his lips against mine and gazed into my eyes.
“Mine, Claire...” he whispered. “Tell me you’re mine...”
“I’m yours...”
He threaded his hands in mine and held them over my head as he slowly slid his dick into me, pushing every thick inch further and further until he was completely buried inside.
We lay like that for several seconds, simply staring at one another as our bodies molded together for the first time in weeks. I couldn’t believe how good he felt inside of me, how I’d ever gone so long without having him.
I gasped as he started to thrust in and out of me, as he pressed warm kisses against my chest and made me squirm beneath him.
“Be still, Claire.”
“I can’t...” I let go of his hands and wrapped my arms around his back, scraping my nails across his skin as he sped up his thrusts.
“I’ve missed this so much...” His mouth connected with mine again and he rewarded each of my moans with a deeper kiss. “So much...”
He rocked into me over and over again, caressing my face with his hands—never breaking eye contact with me.
“I’m going to...I’m going to—” I shut my eyes and screamed out as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through my body. I shuddered and shook as he came inside of me and softly collapsed onto my chest.
He slipped his hands to my hips and rolled us over so I was laying on top of him.
As I struggled to catch my breath, he rubbed his palms against my bare back and sighed. “Was the wedding everything you wanted it to be?”
“Yes...” I murmured.
“Are you sure? We can do it all over again until it’s perfect if you like.”
“It was perfect...”
“You were so beautiful coming down the aisle...It took a lot out of me not to pull you down into the grass in front of everyone.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” I sat up.
He raised his eyebrow and I didn’t even know why I doubted him. He would’ve.
“Can we go to the reception now?”
“No.” He skimmed his hands against my stomach.
“Why not?”
“Because we haven’t had sex in weeks and we have another hour that we’re going to take full advantage of.” He pulled me back down.
When we finally made it into the reception room—after Jonathan had his way with me three more times, there were tears in my eyes.
I’d always envisioned our reception in all white with subtle pops of color, but he’d changed it—for the better: The tables were draped in light ivory, with pastel yellow and pink centerpieces that perfectly complemented the sparkling lights that hung from the ceiling. Our name—“Mr. & Mrs. Statham” was etched in large black cursive in the center of the glass dance floor, and the beautiful sweets bar I’d been so adamant about having, was larger than I’d envisioned. It was a series of huge spiral stepped-displays, and it took up an entire wall.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the newly wedded Mr. and Mrs. Statham!” The DJ bellowed.
I looked over at Jonathan—who was standing on the other side of the grand steps, and slowly made my way down to the dance floor.
He didn’t let me make it down the last few steps alone. He walked over to my side and reached for my hand, insistent on leading me to the dance floor himself.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and held me close, telling me he loved me again and again.
The lights in the room began to dim and a soft spotlight shone over us. As I wrapped my arms around his neck, the orchestra began to play—striking chords to a song I didn’t recognize.
“You changed the song?” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“What is it?” I was trying to place where I’d heard this melody before.
He said nothing. He simply smiled and moved me to the music.
I lay my head against his chest and listened to the strings sing softer and softer.
“At last...” Jonathan sang into my ear in perfect pitch. “My love has come along...”
My heart started racing all over again once I realized what the song was—Etta James’ “At Last.”
“The night I looked at you...” His voice was beautiful.
“You told me you didn’t know how to sing...” I looked up at him in tears.
“I told you I didn’t sing.” He kissed me. “I never said that I couldn’t.” He pressed my head back against his chest and continued singing the entire song to me, kissing me deeply as soon as he sang the last note.
When the lights brightened again, I leaned in and asked if we could just leave for the honeymoon now, but he shook his head.
“You wanted a perfect wedding, Claire. We have to do all the ‘perfect wedding’ things.” He led me around the room and we greeted each and every guest.
We posed for pictures with our friends and family, laughed as we cut the three tiered cake together, and tried not to get carried away when it was time for him to remove my garter.
As the DJ began to play the upbeat music for dancing, Jonathan pulled me out onto the open balcony where a small table was waiting. He pulled out my chair, and the dinner we’d missed earlier was served to us in three short courses.
We ate in complete silence, simply looking up at one another and smiling each time our eyes met.
The second I finished my dessert, he helped me up and pulled me close. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Yes...”
He nodded and signaled to someone I couldn’t see. He led me back into the reception room, and the DJ announced that we were leaving.
“Do we really need to have the rice thrown on us as we leave?”
“That’s a ‘perfect wedding’ thing...”
“Okay.” He kissed me, and we waited for Miss Corwin to lead all of the guests outside.
“Mr. and Mrs. Statham?” She motioned to us. “Follow me please.”
We followed her down the hall and to the entry way of the venue, holding hands. When she gave the signal, we ran outside and down the long white carpet, dodging a heavy rain of rice and cheers.
Greg opened the door to the limo and Jonathan picked me up and placed me inside.
As soon as the door shut, his lips were on mine and his hands were all over me. I leaned forward and started tearing off his shirt, murmuring as he slid his hand behind the back of my dress.
I was tossing his shirt across the seat when I heard a series of loud popping noises outside.
I immediately stopped. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” He was still kissing me.
“That sound...It’s like gunfire.”
He let my lips go and smiled. “Fireworks.”
As if he could read my mind, he pulled me into his lap and placed his jacket over me. Then he rolled the window down and we watched as our names were spelled out in colorful sparks across the night sky: “Claire...” “Jonathan...” “Mr...” “Mrs...” “Statham...” “Together...” “Forever...” “Until...” “The Very...” “End...”
“Do I even want to know how much that costs?” I whispered, entranced.
“Probably not.” He smiled and ran his fingers through my now-tousled hair.
We watched the fireworks until they ended, until the only thing left in the sky was the stars, and by that time we’d made it to his plane.