Chapter 61 #2
That wandering hand rounded her waist and flicked the zipper in the back of the dress.
Jamie’s eyes closed, mouth opening as that knowing sound erupted in the air – the sound of her zipper coming undone.
“I wanted to take you exactly as you were. The moment I saw you coming toward me at the ceremony, I thought two things. The first…” Jamie’s zipper was all the way down, allowing Etta’s fingertips to touch the small of her back, “…was that I was the luckiest woman in the world to be marrying you. I may have chosen you, Jamie, but you chose me, too. I know you wouldn’t have married me if you didn’t truly love me. ”
A gasp left her lips as Etta’s hand gripped Jamie’s hip. “The second?”
“Ah…” Etta brought her close. “The second was that I couldn’t wait to get you out of this dress and make endless love to you.”
That should have sounded sweet. It did, to an extent, but Etta was not a sweet woman.
She was ferocious in the bedroom, the kind who took whatever she wanted – and she often wanted Jamie.
Now I know. Tonight will be intense. Jamie welcomed either extreme on their wedding night.
After all, as nice as it was to make slow and gentle love, it was also wonderful to be fucked senseless and taken to unspeakable heights.
We’re only young once. We can save slow and gentle for our fiftieth anniversary.
“You should savor me, then,” Jamie warned her. “You’re not going to see me in this dress again. Portraits aside.”
“I will savor every inch of you, my flower.” Etta’s lips pressed against Jamie’s neck. “By the time I’m done taking this dress off you, you’ll be begging for me.”
Jamie fell against Etta’s chest as her kisses and caresses intensified. “You’ll give yourself to me, right?”
“We’ll give ourselves to each other, my flower.”
She craned her head so they could kiss. At first, it was easy. Then, Etta being Etta, it went from 0 to 60 without any warning.
When Jamie imagined her wedding night, her mind jumped around so much that she knew it was impossible to gauge what their moods would be.
Knowing Etta, however, she had probably saved up as much energy as possible so she could take her bride the moment she had the chance.
This was the same woman, after all, who wasted no time getting beneath Jamie’s skirt on their first date.
She would’ve fucked me in her office during our interview if she thought I’d let her.
She’d never lied about knowing what she wanted.
How many brides over the centuries had been touched like this on their wedding night?
Not just with fervor, but with an intimate knowledge that rivaled most of the other couples they knew?
Etta had an untold amount of time to get to know every one of Jamie’s most sensitive, most erogenous spots.
She touched them all now, gently at first, then with a rising need that said she wanted her now.
Jamie didn’t need words to know that. She knew Etta like Etta knew her.
That’s why she unleashed the phrase that would take this experience to the next level.
“Do whatever you want to me, my wife. I’m yours.”
Everything but her lingerie and the choker around her throat came off.
Her dress fell, pooling around her feet and revealing a strapless white bra and a short slip around her waist. Etta removed the tiara and sapphire barrette, tossing them onto the coffee table with little care.
As soon as she was free from these constraints, Etta fondled Jamie with renewed need, shirking her suit jacket and letting it fall on top of Jamie’s wedding dress.
“I’ve got something for you, my flower.” She snapped that in Jamie’s ear as she unsnapped her bra and tossed it on the floor.
Jamie whimpered, not in fear, but in desire.
Etta would never hurt me. She would do everything to make sure that tonight is extra special.
“I don’t doubt your love and lust for me, but it never hurts to get some help.
I want you so needy that you come over and over again tonight. ”
Tonight was a funny word. Plenty of sunlight remained in the penthouse. It would be dark within another hour. Jamie would probably be spent – and begging for more – by then.
“Stay here.” Her wife said that as she wandered off, leaving Jamie half naked in a sea of hand-stitched Italian silk. “Ti amo.” It was as if she knew what she had created.
Etta went into the bedroom, loosening her tie and rolling up her sleeves. Fuck me. Jamie didn’t know what she meant by that. On one hand, she was eager to experience her wedding night, but on the other…
Ah, she should have suspected as much. Her nipples were already as hard as they could get by the time Etta returned, draping a diamond and silver nipple clamp set across her chest.
This was far from their first time playing around with nipple clamps, and it was a fitting implement to choose for their wedding night.
Elegant, biting, and kinky. Jamie didn’t want a flogger, per se, but she did want a hint of something more intense than the occasional slap on her ass and tug of her hair.
Etta went easy on the pinching, but it was enough – Jamie winced, first in pain, then in devotion as the clamps dangled from her chest. Etta sank to her knees, removing the last of Jamie’s lingerie.
Her hands encircled Jamie’s legs as she kissed her outer thigh.
Jamie was both shocked and comforted as Etta’s fingers rubbed her bare slit on her way back up. “You’re wet enough to take right here,” Etta said. “But I don’t want to have my wife for the first time unless she’s at her wits’ end begging for me.”
“I want you, Etta,” she said, ignoring the sharp pain in her breasts as she whipped around. “I’ll never want another the way I want you. Please. Make me your wife.”
“Now, now…” Nevertheless, Etta chuckled, combing her fingers through the strands of hair escaping her twist. “There’s plenty of time for that.”
Jamie tried to sink to her knees. Etta, however, kept her up, hands hooked beneath elbows and shoulders.
I still feel her. She gaped at her wife, marveling at how eager she could be – yet still so in control.
Because I’m quickly losing it. Was this what she wanted?
To have her new wife acting like a complete loon for her?
That would certainly feed into her ego, which was probably already the size of the city after that wedding.
“Hold still.” Etta put both hands on Jamie’s shoulders, steadying her. “I want to look at you once more before I take you into the bedroom.”
Jamie’s breath caught in her chest, her throat, and her nostrils as Etta drank her in, memorizing every curve, every inch of skin bestowed upon her. Her lines. Her sags and smudges in her makeup. Her silly face as she blew her clamped nipples.
She was in her arms again, treated like a fragile princess as Etta whisked her away to their marital bed.
In the time she had been searching for the nipple clamps, Etta had lit a few candles and drawn the first layer of sheer curtains across the window, creating a romantic glow. Jamie smiled to see it… and had little time to appreciate it.
Etta only had one plan for her that night.
When she said she wanted her writhing and begging for her, Jamie should have anticipated that heinous lube that supposedly made princesses anything but pure and kings so virile that they could take on five concubines at once.
At first, she wanted to protest, but Etta showed her the small dab she intended to use.
It was nowhere near the amount they used the first time.
Jamie consented, but with the request that they make love without it first.
Her wife took her to the beginning of their relationship. She lay Jamie down, kneeling between her legs and tenderly caressing her with a ravenous tongue.
Jamie slipped into a subconscious world where it was only her and the woman she now called her wife.
My wife. What a strange thing to think and say.
It would take some getting used to. Yet it felt so right, so honorable that she didn’t think twice when Etta asked her if she was ready.
Yes, yes she was ready. Jamie had been ready to give herself to the only woman worthy enough to be her wife for so long.
That subconscious world expanded moments after the elixir touched her.
It was enough to emblazon her with more than lust. She felt so beyond her own body, beyond the mind she called her own, that all she could think about was Etta.
Her lips against hers, her skin. Her hair, as it disheveled between Jamie’s fingers, then the pillow as she, too, let go.
Her breath, so hot and fervent that Jamie yearned to feel it on every part of her.
Her strength, surging through her, through the bed, through the room.
My pleasure is her pleasure. Her vulnerable grunts were one part commanding, two parts soft and yearning.
Her clothes fell away from her body, first this button undone, then that zipper falling.
She would be as naked as Jamie soon enough, and she wanted to feel all of Etta, like Etta wanted to feel all of her.
By the time she touched her, Jamie had completely lost her attachment to the words wife and marriage. They were all that mattered. They were one.
Yet, somehow, she registered that this was unlike ever before. Was it the lube Etta used on her, sparking Jamie’s neurons and creating the writhing mess she shortly became? Or was it the sincerity of the moment?
Did it matter?
Etta could never touch her enough. Whether she was on top of Jamie, beneath her, behind her, beside her…
as long as Etta was with her, sharing her life, her heart with her in the most carnal way possible, Jamie continued her search for contentment.
She didn’t dare think she would find a new, burgeoning paradise emanating from mind and loin.
Sure, the lube liked to make her think she would…
and the more they made love, the more she became convinced that they would find it together.
But it wasn’t necessary. It wasn’t the difference between marital bliss and something less.
“I love you,” Etta said a million times.
A million wasn’t enough. Jamie begged her to say it again, then again, then again.
She begged Etta with her words and body alike, sometimes clawing at her, and other times deferring to her every movement.
The more she said those wonderful words, the more she achieved ecstasy.
Jamie didn’t come once. Or twice. Or thrice.
From the moment Etta first joined her body with hers, she was in a constant state of climax.
Sometimes, there was a minor lull that allowed her to catch her breath or further appreciate how easily she made love to her, but for the most part, Jamie was a slave to the constant pleasure washing over her.
Come with me, Etta. She craved to feel Etta join her in the zenith of blissful consummation.
When Etta pulled on the nipple clamps, Jamie knew something big was about to happen. She could tell from the way the candlelight cast its shadows against the wall.
“I love you,” Etta swore, smothering Jamie against their bed as their hips rocked together. “Be mine, forever.”
Her nails dug into Etta’s shoulder blades, thighs clamped tight against her hips. “I will!” she cried. “I’m yours! Etta!”
Her wife cried her name as well, driving against her, hard, as the first wave of orgasm crashed over them both. Jamie squeezed the back of Etta’s neck, determined to siphon every last drop of her strength.
Etta’s warmth surrounded her as they collapsed together. Jamie shuddered beneath her weight, riding an unprecedented high with Etta by her side.
No amount of dreaming could have prepared her for this moment: the moment they truly became wives.
They lay, tangled together, one arm wrapped around Jamie as both she and Etta stared at the dark ceiling and took stock of all that had happened.
Since when? Since that morning. Since four months ago. Since they first met, which seemed a lifetime ago.
“We should go to sleep,” Etta said, clearing her throat. It was the first time she spoke in nearly ten minutes. “We have a long flight tomorrow.”
She forgot to mention the part where she had bought a brand-new Gulfstream as one of her wedding presents for her wife.
After years of people harping on her to buy her own plane, she finally did it – and went all out.
She still thought it was a surprise, but Amanda accidentally left the invoice at the penthouse two weeks ago.
“We could go to sleep,” Jamie began, “or we could stay like this for the rest of our lives.”
“I’ve been reliving the first time we met over and over for the past fifteen minutes.”
Where had that come from? “Please,” Jamie said, snorting. “I doubt you even remember the first time you saw me. Honestly.”
“You might be surprised. I thought, ‘There’s my future wife.’”
“You’re so full of shit!” Laughing, Jamie rubbed her hand against Etta’s stomach, fingers venturing toward the hair growing between her legs.
Wonder if I could get one more out of her…
It wasn’t midnight yet. It was still the day of their wedding.
“I bet you don’t remember the first words you said to me. ”
Etta propped herself up and gazed down into her drowsy eyes. “Greetings,” she recited. “Thank you for taking the time to see me.” Before Jamie could be too impressed, however, her wife continued, “I hope to see you for many, many more years.”
Jamie didn’t say a word as she closed her eyes and submitted to more than her wife – she submitted to the universe, and the idea of happily ever afters. Sometimes, Cinderella was more than a fairy tale. She was real.
She was here.