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.