Wedding Jitters Ch. 3

She couldn't remember even having awakened feeling so...delicious. Miranda lay in a generous puddle of sunlight, thinking immediately how nice it was that he'd left the room the way he'd found it.

HE.

Jackknifing into a sitting position, Miranda looked quickly around the room, noting the wide open curtains; her discarded clothes exactly where she'd left them last night...everything in order. Flopping back down into the softness of the bed, she sighed.

She had to call off the wedding.

She knew she loved Ed and that he loved her, but clearly that wasn't enough. If she were willing to give herself so fully and so desperately to someone else, then there was something wrong. Not with the relationship or with Ed, but with her. Marrying Ed wouldn't be fair to him if she hadn't worked out all her needs, wants or...whatever it was that had her moaning and coming for a man she'd known for all of three hours. So the wedding was off.

Her heart ached at the thought, even more than she would have thought it might, and she realized in that moment that her feelings for Ed were stronger than even she had realized. She would do the right thing. Marrying one man when you could respond so hotly to another wasn't right, but doing the right thing made her hurt unbearably.

How could she have done this to him?

Rolling to her side in the bed, Miranda grabbed a tissue from the box on the bedside table and wiped the first tears away. Wondering miserably how she could have done such a thing--and enjoyed it so much--she tried not to look at the beautiful yellow roses he'd sent her yesterday because they only made her cry harder.

Gasping, she sat up again. Yellow roses?

Jumping to her feet, Miranda ran to the dresser to make sure the bright, sunny blooms were real. Yesterday, he'd sent her roses. RED roses. So, whose were these? Pulling the same little white florist's envelope from the center of the bouquet, she slipped the card out to read it; to assure herself that it was the same card.

It wasn't.

‘Good Morning, Beautiful--' this card read. ‘I hope you slept well and are ready for the big day. I can't wait. By the way, I've never been much for symbolism, but these seemed to fit the occasion. I hope you aren't angry but Peg said you were having some...concerns...about...well, you know. I love you'

She backed up to the bed as if the note had slammed into her, forcing her backward. When the backs of her knees hit the bed, she sat down hard. What did all that mean? Peg told Ed that she was having concerns about...something? But the only thing she and Peg had discussed was...

SEX!

"Oh, Peg, you didn't," Miranda moaned aloud. "I'm going to kill you for sure now."

So what was all this about not being into symbolism. What did symbolism have to do with roses? Flowers were sent to people you loved and...wait! Red roses were symbolic of love, right? So what about yellow?

Passion.

Miranda sat silent for a full minute before it hit her hard in the midsection.

"Oh my god!" she shouted, standing again.

It hadn't been Grant at all. It had been...Ed.

Stunned, Miranda couldn't decide if she were thrilled or horrified. ED...her sweet, beautiful, calm, dignified Ed had...snuck into her room, tied her down and...and....

What, she thought. And made her feel such awful need and fiery passion and down-and-dirty lust that just thinking about it now made her knees weak. Ed.

"Wow," she whispered to the empty room. And now what? How could she face him...how could she wait for the honeymoon?

Four hours later, Miranda stood behind the closed door at the back of the church, her left hand holding her bouquet, her right in the crook of her father's arm. She was shaking like a leaf. Then the doors opened and through her gauzy veil she forced herself to look at Ed. He stood tall and handsome in his dove-gray tuxedo, waiting for her with a slight, patient smile on his lips. To everyone present he no doubt looked like the perfect groom--mild, affectionate and perfectly calm.

The look in his eyes, however, burned into her, so full of love and excitement and desire that her knees actually wobbled.

Three hours after she walked down the aisle she was still shaking. Something had happened to her Ed. Or maybe to her. He never spoke to her about her midnight visitor and was outwardly the same man he'd been two days before. Lovingly solicitous, courteous and kind.

And, at least in her eyes, mouth-wateringly sexy.

He looked at her with hooded gazes that told her he remembered how her passion tasted on his tongue; how it felt to have her hungrily sucking his cock. And that he planned to enjoy those pleasures as often as possible till death parted them. That he might not have fucked her, but he was going to. Fierce and hot and hard. All night long.

It was forever until all the handshaking and kissing and crying were over and then the chauffeured ride to the hotel and finally he was carrying her over the threshold of their suite, silently leaving her to stand alone in the middle of the bedroom to stare at the bed while he went to tip the bellboy and lock the doors.

"Turn around," he said from the bedroom doorway behind her.

Moving slowly she faced him, still in her wedding gown, while he leaned against the bedroom door frame, arms crossed over his chest. She went hot at the tone of voice he'd used to gently order her around. It was the same voice she should have recognized in her bed last night, thick and rusty with desire.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured. Stripping out of his jacket and waistcoat and tie, he tossed them onto a chair. "Don't move," he told her when she began to. Moving behind her, he began unfastening the long row of buttons along her spine.

"Ed--"

"Tell me about yesterday."

"Wh--what?" she gasped. Until that moment, had she really believed it had been Ed...or was that all just her wishful thinking? And if so....oh, god! What if he knew?

"Tell me. About your day without me."

Now she was really unsure. Shakily, she told him. While his fingers slipped and tugged on the little pearl buttons at her back, she told him everything--including the details of the bachelorette party. Everything, until she'd gone to bed.

"And you slept?" Ed's voice at her ear was low. Soothing. Then his hands left her dress and he kissed her nape; the bare curve of her shoulder, and she felt anything but soothed.

Miranda gasped again, this time with pleasure. Ed tossed his shirt onto the floor beside her.

"No," she answered finally. "Well, yes, but..."

"But?"

His hands--why had she never realized how big and hard his hands were?--slipped into the deep vee of her open gown, around her bare waist, and flattened on her belly, pulling her back to his body.

"But...oh, god..." The heat of his chest against her back was incredible. His thumbs were moving slowly...oh, so painfully slowly...on her skin.

"But...something woke you?" he prompted, his voice at her ear again.

Miranda sighed, relaxing back against his chest. "Ummm...yes."

"Don't tell me my bride to be was having pre-wedding nightmares," he murmured gently.

Miranda shook her head.

"Pre-wedding X-rated dreams, then?" he asked, and his voice took on a whole new timbre...one she was sure she recognized.

"I...don't know," Miranda said finally. "Maybe. "

"Tell me," Ed rumbled sexily, kissing her throat with his hot, open mouth.

She didn't know why she shouldn't. If it had been him, he already knew and she wanted to let him know she'd loved every minute. And if he didn't...well, better to be honest. Right?

"I woke in the dark. It was so black I couldn't see anything," she whispered. "And I was..."

"You were what?" That dark, sexy tone .

"Undressed," she whispered in confession. "Just wearing my panties. And..."

"And what, baby?"

"And...I was...tied down."

Silence behind her.

"He was there. In the dark. He put his hand over my mouth, but...he knew my name. He put a gag in my mouth." And his cock, she thought guiltily, suddenly weak with the memory of the hot pulsing flesh of him in her mouth. Spurting his cream down her hungry throat.

"Were you afraid?"

The quiet murmur of the question startled Miranda. Why wasn't he angry? Insisting that she call the police?

"Y...yeah," she whispered. "And--"

"And?"

His hands, rough male skin against her feminine silk, slid up until he was barely touching the full undersides of her breasts and his thumbs slid back and forth along the heavy curves. Miranda moaned, "Excited," on a hot rush of air.

"Getting fucked by strangers turns you on?"

The question was direct, but Miranda was surprised that there was no shock in it; no judgmental harshness. It was as if the question had been phrased in such vulgar wording to excite her.

And it did.

"I've...never been..."

"Fucked?" he whispered, the hot touch of his breath spiraling down inside her like liquid silk.

When Miranda only shook her head in reply, he said, "Say it," his tone just as hot but a bit more demanding now.

Miranda balked. She shivered as his thumbs teased further up the underslopes of her breasts, nearing but not touching her painfully tight nipples.

"Say it."

"I've never been...fucked," she whispered, shuddering.

His thumbs dragged coarsely over her nipples, making her moan. "But he did something to you?"

"Y...yes."

"Tell me."

"Ed--"

"Did he touch you?"

"Yes," she sighed.

"Here?" And his hands were over her breasts now, covering her silky, sensitive skin with hard, calloused heat. Her nipples contracted harder, her skin pulling taut there in delicate pleasure. "Did he touch you here?"

"Yes....oh, yes." Her words were nothing more than syllabic sighs.

"And his mouth? Did he put his mouth here?" Pinching her nipples lightly, he dragged his teeth over her earlobe. "Did he lick you? Suck your tits until you were burning between your thighs?"

"Ye...ss..." she moaned as her dress slid to the floor. She stood there in the center of a soft pile of white lace wearing high white heels, panties, bra, stockings and garter belt. The cool air on her exposed skin was as erotic as his hot hands.

"Tell me about his mouth."

"Hot," she whispered. "Wet....so...clever. His tongue..."

"Where?" his voice was like gravel at her ear.

"Here." Sliding one hand down, she pressed her clit through the barriers of white satin panties and moaned again, softly.

"You let this stranger eat your pussy, Miranda?" Ed demanded, his voice strained. "You're a very bad girl."

Oh, yes, she thought dreamily as his hands roamed her body, covering her hand where it still rested between her thighs and pressing her fingers as well as his own over her clit. And she hadn't known she was such a bad little girl until this...stranger...had taken her last night.

"Punish me," she whispered pleadingly to Ed, and his cruel, amused little masculine chuckle set her nerve endings on fire.

"Oh, yes," he assured her, using his hand between her thighs to press her ass back into his crotch. "I'm going to punish you, Miranda. Until you scream with pleasure. Get down on your knees, little girl."

Miranda didn't ask why; she dropped to her knees without hesitating, eager for his punishment. She felt him step away; heard the hiss of leather a moment before he ordered her down onto her hands. The instant she was, she felt the sting of his belt across her ass; a playful, almost soft snap against her flesh. She shuddered and a hot gush of molten liquid grew between her thighs. Oh lord, she thought, her pussy burning and her tits swollen and sensitive...what had she been afraid of? This was too delicious.

The next swat was delivered a bit harder, making her cry out.

"Are you sorry?" came the voice behind her.

How could she lie? "No," she whispered.

Crack. Harder, and she cried out again; louder. She grew wetter.

"Did you come for him? Did you cream all over his face, Miranda?"

"Yes."

CRACK.

"Ow!" nearly a scream, but Miranda had spread her legs even farther apart and the belt teased at her pussy as it hit, nearly making her come. "PLEASE!" she begged. "Please!"

Behind her, Ed smiled down at his bride with satisfaction. So sexy in her virginal white panties and stockings and heels, she was the picture of a slut, her panties dark with her excitement, her body ready and desperate for a man's cock. He'd taken a chance last night, but he hadn't wanted to marry a cold woman and Miranda, while he loved her dearly and she was wonderful in other respects, hadn't exactly been knocking down his door for sex, even once they'd become engaged. He was glad to see that she was the perfect wife--demure and professional outside the bedroom and a hot little slut inside.

"What else did he do to you, Miranda?" he growled demandingly. "Did he fuck you? Up the ass, maybe, to keep you a virgin?"

"N...no," she admitted. "But--"

"WHAT ELSE?" he insisted.

"He put his...penis...in..." She could barely whisper the word ‘penis' and while she turned red with shame, her mouth remembered his taste and her pussy was desperate to be stuffed and pounded.

"He made you suck his dick?"

Miranda nodded, her hands clenching around fistfuls of her wedding gown to keep from playing with her own clit.

"Say it!"

Her silence was met with another slap of his belt.

"Unh!" Miranda's body jerked with pleasure. "He made me...suck..."

"Tell me what you did, Miranda!"

"Sucked his...penis."

CRACK. "His DICK, Miranda! His COCK!. Tell me!"

"I sucked his cock," she whimpered, her hips moving involuntarily in a little fucking motion. "I sucked his cock."

"Did you like it, baby?" He asked as he walked around to her head. "Do you like the taste of a man's big hot dick in your bad little mouth?" As he walked, he put his hands to his pants, releasing the button of his tuxedo pants and then his zipper. "DO YOU?"

"Yes." Barely a breath.

Shoving one hand down into his pants, Ed grabbed his meat and played with himself behind the cloth barrier. "How should I punish you for that?" he murmured. "Maybe I should call in a couple of the bellboys and force you to suck them off. Would you like that, Miranda?"

The idea sent a shockwave of erotic desire through her. Coursing from her nipples to her pussy, it made her squirm with need. "I....oh, yes," she sighed.

"Or maybe I should force you to suck my dick all night long. Look at it, Miranda!" Whipping his cock out, he smiled at Miranda's gasp. He was impressively hard and long and seeping precum. "Maybe I should just jerk myself off in front of your face while you beg for a taste. Huh, Miranda?"

"Oh god...no," she moaned as he began masturbating in her face, pushing her mouth into his balls while he jerked and strained, moaning with pleasure. Wild with need, Miranda whimpered and moaned, licking madly at whatever she could reach. "Please," she begged. "Please...in my mouth. Come in my mouth."

"Did he come in your mouth, Miranda? Did you swallow his cum and beg for more?"

"Unh....yes...yes! Now...please!"

"You're a dirty little cunt, letting some rapist shoot his load down your throat, Miranda," he taunted, moving back just enough to slap her across the face with his cock. "I'm going to have to teach you a lesson." Holding her head with both hands, he ordered, "Open up!" before shoving his cock, full length, into her mouth and down her unprepared throat.

Miranda gagged for a few seconds but as Ed pulled back she gasped in air and prepared for the next battering thrust. Mewling and eager, she licked and sucked at his meat as he fucked her mouth and she made pleasured sounds to let him know she'd eat him forever if he wanted her to.

Still, after several minutes of having Miranda sucking his cock like a trained courtesan, he nearly burst in her hot, wet mouth. Pulling out took more willpower than he knew he'd owned.

"No," he gasped, shoving off the remainder of his clothes. "You'll get plenty to eat later. For now, I'm gonna give you what your bastard rapist wasn't man enough to. Crawl to the bed!"

Head hanging, Miranda obediently crawled to the bed and then up into it as he instructed her to.

"Good. Kneel on the edge facing the center of the bed. Now, Miranda, pull your panties down to your knees and get down on your hands again."

She did gladly, spreading her thighs wide, knowing he'd be shoving that big piece of meat into her dripping pussy any second.

Behind her, Ed slapped Miranda's ass as he played with himself a bit longer and enjoyed the sight of her, spread out and ready. Desperate for his dick.

"Beg me."

It was all the encouragement she needed. "Please," she moaned, sliding one hand behind her to spread her ass cheeks for him to get a better view of her wet, virgin lips. "Please fuck me. I need it. I need your cock inside me. Please!"

"Play with your clit."

She did, moving that same hand between her legs to vibrate against her swollen clit. Immediately, she began to shake and moan harder.

"Don't you fucking cum until I tell you that you can!" Ed ordered, and with one hand he put the bulbous head of his cock at her glistening, wet opening. "Here it comes, bitch!" he hissed, and putting both hands on her ass, he shoved forward, making her scream as he broke her virgin barrier and stretched her so full she was sure she'd burst.

Ed fucked her. Hard, fast and without any mercy at all, he slammed and rammed her virgin pussy like a jackhammer gone mad, all the while slapping her ass and reaching beneath her to give her tits painful little smacks.

Finally, unable to hold back his heavy load any longer, Ed roared, "CUM!" and Miranda's fingers took only an instant to speed up and start her orgasm. She screamed again, mindlessly begging him to fuck harder; faster, while he jerked and spasmed and yelled that he was shooting it up inside her hot little pussy. They creamed together, bodies shaking and voices clashing in hard shouts of violent pleasure until at last they were both gasping for breath and twitching in the aftermath of their orgasms.

And then Ed took his wife into his arms and they lay down together and while he whispered how much he loved her, she curled into his body and returned the sentiments. And while he steadfastly refused to reveal whether it had really been him the night before, she was absolutely sure that not only would their marriage be satisfying in every respect, but that he had been the one.

Until, of course, much, much later that night between hot bouts of fucking and other delicious games, when Ed murmured mysteriously, "About that rapist...I'd love to introduce you to him sometime." And so began a marriage made in heaven.