The Wedding Night

So this is it! My wedding night. I am not entirely oblivious to what might happen or actually happen during wedding nights. I maybe a virgin but I know a thing or two about thisparticular subject. So, okay as I am getting ready in the bathroom making sure I look as ravishing so my new husband wouldn’t get disappointed, I am thinking, am I ready for this?

Being married at the age of nineteen and a virgin surely is acceptable, right? Right? I mean come on, it’s not like I wanted to get married in the first place and preserve this so called virginity for my so called husband! I am just following traditions. Our families have arranged this marriage when I was only thirteen. Harry, my husband, at the time was eighteen, so I’m not sure if he feels the same way. He might have done it a couple times, but like I give a damn about it. I just hope this night ends well, which I doubt.

Harry and I weren’t entirely strangers but we were never friends. He is the usual bad boy every good girl- like me, stays away from. The usual devilishly handsome mestizo (half bloods) with perfect smooth tan, dark penetrating blue eyes, sensuous lips, and outrageously tall and lean body. Every girl at any age below seventy drools at the mere sight of him. I guess I am the only exception. My mom even squirms when he’s around. But I won’t rattle you with that now. Let’s just go back to my main dilemma. This fucking wedding night! Excuse my French.

I leaped on my stance when I heard a knocking on the door. The bastard can’t even wait to do nasty things with my hot body!

“Hey, are you still alive in there?” he said at the other side of the door. He has some nerves to ask me that! I remained quiet. He may rot in hell for waiting but I am not giving him the satisfaction of even a slightest answer. I need my private moment. Even just for a couple more hours. I inhaled and exhaled gaily.

“I’m coming in if you don’t open this damn door!” Urgh! I walked to the door and twisted the knobs. His bored face greeted me. My heard began to pound faster and louder inside my ribcage. He has always had that effect on me but I blame it on his really formidable attitude.

“I thought you were trying to kill yourself back there!” then he run his gaze from my head down to my red colored toe nails slowly and the looks of satisfaction flickered in his eyes. I remembered I am wearing black lace lingerie that barely covered all the places that needs to be covered. But my stubborn self can’t give him the pleasure of laughing at me so I looked at him defiantly.

“At least you did something useful spending almost two hours in the bath room.” He scoffed dryly. I gave back the intimidating assessment but he didn’t flinch one bit. I am even impressed on how he manage to look so good wearing only his blue silk pajama bottom and nothing to cover his masculine chest. His abs is so delicately carved that I wanted to touch to make sure they were real. I gulped. This is utterly embarrassing. I changed my expression to being aloof.

When I look back to face him, his grinning face meets me “Like what you see?” and he slowly come closer that I jerked back when he is only an inch away. The bastard chuckled when he saw my reaction. I cleared my throat and speak “Since both of us despise this sham of a marriage I propose we have an agreement” his light expression change to his default dark demeanor. “Sham of a marriage” he said sardonically. Crossing his arms over his chest, he continued “and what is that proposition should be?” I gulped, he frightens the hell out of me when he’s acting like that but I prefer him being serious than when he’s on his teasing mood. That I couldn’t take.

“Well...” I croaked “Let’s try not to be on each other’s way. Let’s just pretend this marriage didn’t actually happen…” I trailed off when I saw his eyes grew darker like the deep blue sea. I saw danger signs coming in when I don’t shut my mouth this instant. He furrows his brows like he’s thinking about it. I sighed a breath of relief when he smiled only to be laughed at once more.

“Sorry, wife. If you think you can get away from this wedding night, think again. I made plans just to make this a night you will never forget…” he said the last line slowly and seductively on my ear like he wanted me to digest each and every word. I began to feel every hair on my body is pulled out of its roots.

“Whatever filthy things you’re thinking, leave me out of it!” now that’s the words I am looking for. But his smile is even wider this time.

“Bet on that” he said and captured my lips in a savage kiss. I squirmed and pushed away but he is stronger that I couldn’t budge him. I stood rigid and unresponsive but he is too persistent to the point of punishing so I began to move my lips in tune of his. The sensation is overpowering that the world around didn’t matter to me anymore. Like fireworks began to explode as each passing moment is a sweet blur of torrid kisses and passionate carresses. My knees turns watery I almost fell on the floor, but he tightens his grip on my waist and crushed his body to mine.

I heard a moan escaped my mouth when he delved his tongue inside. Tasting and tracing every contour of my lips. Before I could push him back he let me go. His eyes were spitting rage, passion, and desire.

Still panting and weak from what just happen, I step back a few step to the wall for support. He muttered cusses to himself and walked over to sit over the edge of the four poster-king size bed. He buried his face on both palms. He looks tired and weary.

When I was about to stalk him over the bed, he speak softly “Is it really so terrible to be married to me?” I stopped on my foot as the words sunk in, Is it bad to be married to him? Echoed in my mind. Then a debate took place inside my head. But one answer gave me the shock of my life: No.

I continued to pace his way. The soft mattress sunk when I sat beside him “No” I whispered, voicing out the response I know in my heart is true. He looked up. His face a mask of disbelief and hope, “Cassie you better not be telling me lies” his eyes glimmering with anticipation and love, my heart swelled. “I’m not” I admitted, looking down. I couldn’t face him. I feel awkward as his piercing stare made my toes curl up and my grip on my barely-even-there-excuse-for-a-night-dress grew tighter. He held my face with both hands delicately, “Look at me” he said, “I love you” I caught my breath and blinked at him twice. He laughed; dipped his head and kiss me lightly on the lips with a smack of wetness that it made me chuckle. 

He looks back at my eyes expectantly. I know what I have to say, “I love you”. There I said it. It’s not important who said it first but it’s the fact that we finally set ourselves free from pretenses. The wedding night I dreaded to have turns out to be the happiest moment of my life.