If I Can't Have you

(53) The Wedding

"How about instead of becoming a teacher, we set up a charity to help fund educational needs?" Jemima suggests.

"Like donors?" Tommy hums, running his hand over her bare hip beneath his shirt that she was wearing. Leonard was staying with his grandfather tonight, giving the couple an evening off.

"It wouldn't be just us, that's the point of a charity, it means people can help, try and allow children - anyone to have a decent, worthwhile education, with proper support," Jemima says, "even adults who haven't yet learned to read and write. We have a good life, we should help others have a chance."

"I accept your proposal, how would we go about setting it up? Getting donors?" Tommy questions.

"We need to gather rich people, willing to donate, in one place, you get enough pompous arseholes in one place they'll want to outbid each other, just to prove they're richer, and have that kind of disposable cash," Jemima hums, becoming increasingly distracted by Tommys hand.

"Okay," Tommy nods, "like a ball? I have no idea where to start, but I'll support you if this is something you want to do."

"It is," Jemima says, as Tommys lips graze over her neck, "do the details need to be spoken of now?"

"No," Jemima sighs, arching into his body, "I think we can spare our minds for a couple of minutes."

"How about a couple of hours?" Tommy replies, his hand sliding beneath the waistband of her lingerie.

Breathlessly, Jemima speaks, "a couple of hours sounds good to me."

"Good," Tommy chuckles, against her neck, trailing kiss along the underside of her jaw, as he brushed his thumb over her clit, slowly thrusting a finger inside of her, "glad to know I still have this effect on you," he adds, as she gasps in pleasure, running a hand down his back.

"You'll always have this effect on me, and you know it you cocky prick," Jemima remarks.

"That's a lot of attitude for someone relying on me to become her personal orgasm machine," Tommy tuts, pressing their lips together, stopping any retaliating comment she was bound to make, as he starts to increase his pace, applying further pressure to her clit.

Jemimas hands roamed over his torso, making their way to his neck, pulling him closer, practically on top of her. One hand holding himself up, one knee between her legs.

Her hands travelled down his back. The familiar feeling of her nails scratching his skin, causing him to become evermore aroused and letting him know that she was close.

"I love you, soon to be Mrs Shelby," Tommy whispers, as he hears her inhale sharply, her legs beginning to shake as she struggles to kiss him back.

His words made her heart race as she moans his name against his lips, feeling them upturn into a smirk.

Hastily she tugged down his pants, gently palming him as she lined him up, nodding at him to let him know it was okay for him to proceed.

"Tommy, yes," she adds, knowing he was going to ask for verbal consent, placing a hand on his cheek, her thumb tracing over his bottom lip, she whispers, "fuck me, it'll be the last time we'll be doing it whilst having differing surnames."

"Yes, ma'am," Tommy says, thrusting his hips forwards.

-

"I'm nervous," Jemima says.

"Don't be nervous, it's all going to be okay," Evander assures.

"What if I trip and fall?" Jemima asks.

"We're not going to let you fall," Levin tells her, "it'll go well, just focus on Tommy at the end of the aisle."

"What if he doesn't want to marry me? What if he decides-"