All I Want Is You

{This is the wedding night, so I should warn you the following is VERY MATURE. Don't read if you can't handle it!}

“Aren’t you going to carry me in bridal style?” I asked, giggling as we walked hand and hand up to the hallway for our room.

He smirked and swooped me up in his arms. I shrieked and then covered my mouth to stifle the giggles.

“Jackson! I wasn’t serious!” I said, though the sound was muffled. I wrapped my arms around his neck. He seemed to have no problem carrying me down the long hallway. I laid my head against his chest.

“Are you tired?” He asked, kissing the top of my head.

“Not now. I’m kind of running on adrenaline.”

“Me too.” He winked, putting me down long enough to open our door. I started to walk in on my own.

“No, no, no!” he chuckled. “Get back here!” He said, before swooping me up again. He pushed through the door, using his foot to close it behind us. He gently laid me down on the bed.

I started laughing, clearly ruining whatever mood her was trying to set.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, standing at the end of the bed, looking down at me.

“This is so weird. I just got married.” I whispered the last part, giggling to myself again.

“Really? So did I!” He said, grinning again.

I was immediately overwhelmed with the reality of the situation. I was married, but it didn’t scare me. The only thing I felt was joy. I also felt lucky, lucky that I would get to spend the rest of my life with someone as amazing as Jackson. I sat up then, reaching my hands out, asking him to pull me up. I just wanted him to hold me, to know that this was all really, that this was happening.

I laid my head against his chest and sighed, wrapping my arms around his back. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

I lifted my head and looked into those now familiar green eyes. I think he had doubts about how official this wedding night would be. Everything had been so hectic lately that we hadn’t had any time for just us. And that killed me, because in just less than seven months, there wouldn’t be a lot of time for us for a while.

I pressed my lips against his, slowly trailing his lips with my tongue. Soon his lips were moving quickly against mine, and my hands automatically tangled in his hair.

“Lizzie.” He moaned, pulling away. “Are you sure?” He asked. His cheeks were flushed, his hair messy where my hands had been.

“Of course.” I whispered, already reaching for his tie.

“What about, well, you know.” He said, nodding his head towards my stomach.

“What about it?” I asked, throwing his tie on the floor and fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

“I don’t want to hurt you, either of you.” He said softly.

I smiled and kissed his lips softly. “You can’t hurt us.” I said as I pulled away. I pressed soft kisses along his neck, and he moaned again, his hand running down the back of my dress, searching for the zipper.

I felt his warm hands run along my back as my dress slipped to the floor. I pushed his shirt off his shoulders, then tried to concentrate on his belt while he sucked on my neck.

“Jackson.” I moaned. That was all it took to completely set him off. He pushed me gently back to the bed, quickly unclasping my strapless bra. His hands ran all over my body, his lips following behind them. I used the tips of my toes to push off his pants.

I lifted my hips as he pulled off my underwear. We just stared at each other for a few moments. Then his lips came crashing into mine again as he positioned himself.

I gasped, and he pulled back.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice husky and low. He had mistaken my gasping as a bad thing.

“I’m more then okay.” I breathed, hitching my legs around his waist. I moaned this time, digging my fingernails into his back as he moved faster and faster.

When we both reached the end, when we were struggling for breath, gasping in each other’s arms, he pulled the blankets around us and pulled our bodies as close together as they could get.

As I drifted off to sleep in his arms he sang to me. If it wasn’t my wedding night, if it wasn’t Jackson, I would have found this to be very cliché.

“...cause even when I dream of you, the sweetest dreams would never do. I’d still miss you babe, and I don’t wanna miss a thing.”