To rest one's heart assured that love is never a stranger is truly a means of feeling complete. For if the heart is unassured and love is but a stranger completion will forever be a ghost haunting us. Therefore, one must revel in the assurance, evade shying away the expression of it and disregard the satire spiting it.

I am transcending from the highest apex of glee.

I have finally accomplished my most esteemed desire; marrying Jesse.

I have finally placed the official ring on her finger. I have properly received the gift of her exchanging her maiden name for mine. We have shared a kiss under the eyes of God and solidified a promise of forever. Witnessed by the closest people who may or may not comprehend the magnitude of this event.

Finally.

"Man... Mike, my brother, I am proud of you." A soft-spoken baritone finds me.

I have been standing bashfully admiring the guest and my new bride as they mingled amongst one another.  I feel that this moment does not truly belong to me. This moment is for the bride to finally relax and for the wedding party to gawk.  Not in the means of gaudiness, but a true commemoration. This was a victory for us all.

Therefore, I found a corner taking on the role of spectator.  I was not expecting and most certainly was hoping no one would get the same idea and find me. Unfortunately, hope is just a figment of what faith should be. One cannot count on it.

I shuffle to my right to make space for the brave soul who has unapologetically severed my peace.

"Thanks, Randy,"I offer a straight smile. 

He invades the space I offered with a chuckle. From my peripheral, I can see a stupid smile on his face.

I hope the stupidity stays with his smile.

"You know, I ain't ever think of a weddin' like this." He motions a glass towards the wedding party. "I mean small, yet fairy-tale-like." He chuckles and takes a sip.

I tilt my head to get a better view of him. I need to make sure that an inebriated Jackson will not be disrupting my brides and the wedding party's evening. The strong smell of whiskey when he first approached should have been an indication that my older brother may have had one too many.

Glancing at him, he seems fine, but I know those droopy eyes. Those are the eyes of someone who needs a water break and quick.

"Randy, how many have you had?" I ask beneath my breath now surveying the room for Bill.

He purses his lips and gives me a knowing sideways glance.

"I know, I know. This the last one."

I roll my eyes turning to him completely.

"Give it here. Go get water." My tone is tense despite my body remaining relaxed.

He shakes his head with a chuckle and takes one awkward step back.

"Man, I'm cool. Let me just get these last sips in Mike." He tips the glass to the sky. "See? Mmm!" He cheers as he vehemently chugs it.

I love my brothers. I love every single last one of them, but only the Lord knows how much they have irked me during the entirety of this wedding. I have been magnanimous in kindness. I let bygones be bygones. I allowed them to be a part of the monumental chapter of my life, my family's life. The least they could do is not try to fight me or get drunk at my wedding.

Perhaps I am being a prude.

That could very well be true, but I know my brothers. Drama always follows them. I cannot afford to take chances.

Fortunately for me, an aid acted before I could.

"Aye man, if you gettin' too buzzed I got a room with your name on it." Another baritone joined us.

Thank God.

Randy glances at the man before clearing his throat and nodding in concurrence.

The man stood tall with arms crossed over his chest, facial expression solid, and feet at a ready stance. His body language left no room for inquiries or rebuttals. Only a stupid man would gamble with his life at this point.

"I don't want no problems, Bill." He chuckles. "I'll catch you late Mike."

I simply nod and gently pat his back as he turned to leave.

Bill offers me a wink before trailing behind the elder Jackson.

"Thank you" I mutter to no one in particular.

A beat passes before I register the clacking of heels just as a palm brushes over my shoulder.

I honestly smelt her before I heard her.

She smells divine. Gardenia, vanilla, sandalwood, and other notes I cannot place right now. It is tantalizing. I am obsessed with it and she is too. She discovered it a couple of weeks ago. Amarige by Givenchy.

I do not know how long I had been standing with a foolish grin and closed eyes, but by the sound of her laughter, I found it was long enough.

"Where are you, Michael?" She teases.

I turn around taking her hand in mine as I do.

"Wherever you want me to be Mrs. Jackson."

Her face seemingly brightens up illuminating more of her beauty if even possible.

"I love that name. Say it again." She inches closer.

She locks me into her gaze her eyes are meek but not innocent.

I mirror her movements and enclose the space between us never breaking our gaze.

"Mrs. Jackson," I whisper.

The buzz of the wedding party has long muted itself. Not because the guest left, but because I am encaptured at this moment with her. I am deaf to the world. I am incautious of the plight of my brother's inebriation.

I am with her and it is just us.

"Mrs. Jackson." She parrots her pupils dilating in response. "I need to get out of this dress baby." She breathes.

For a moment the trance is broken.

I quickly release her hand and motion to support her back and abdomen.

"Baby what's wrong? I-Is it the baby?"

I scan over her body as if a wound would appear for me to heal.

I have been on edge about this pregnancy and I will not take one unnecessary risk if I can help it. If that means she makes one complaint about discomfort, grand or nanoscopic, I will proceed and address it with caution and vigor.

She shifts out of my grasp for a moment reaching for my hands soon after.

"Baby, I am horny. " She smiles. "I want you to do what you promised." She gives me a knowing glance.

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

"Michael, baby I said--"

There was a delay in the interpretation of the moment, but I am on the same accord now.

"What about the guests Mrs. Jackson," I smirk taking a quick moment to check on the partygoers.

Indeed the party was very much in full swing with the guests laughing and still mingling. A wonderful sight to see my family members getting along with the extended family members. I truly feel blessed to experience this.

"Fuck them. " Her voice calls for my attention.

I chuckle at her audacious statement.

This woman never ceases to amaze me.

"You keep looking at me like that and calling my name..." She trails now glancing at me under hooded eyes.

Those dangerously hooded eyes.

I lick my lips and clear my throat. I can already feel the tug in my briefs.

"Fuck, Jess." I groan completely flustered.

I promised mother that I would not skip out on the post-nuptial activities. I promised, my brothers a bit of personal time before Jesse, Noah, and I disappeared for our private vacation to Ireland County Westmeath.

Jesse and I agreed it would be a great place for us to wind down for a while. We have rented a small estate just far away from the mainlanders, but close enough to still view the Tullynally castle.

Alas, not everything goes as planned.

I am not a husband to complain about the desires of my wife.

Whatever she wants she will receive.

"Can we at least properly excuse ourselves and thank everyone?" I try to reason taking another quick glance around the room.

All is well and everyone is still being merry.

She bites her lips pulling me into her. She tilts her head a smidge before leaning into my ear.

"Excuse yourself and come thank me."

With that, not giving me a second to respond, she releases me altogether with a pageant smile.

She waves her hand as if to say hello to someone gathering her dress as she does just before turning away.

I hadn't even noticed that she removed most of the tull and somehow transformed the gorgeous wedding dress into a smaller version of it to be an evening gown. She looks absolutely stunning and the dress is doing wonders for her curves.

Fuck.

I have to act swiftly and play this fairly in order to avoid inquiries or worse being locked into a long-winded conversation.

I turn to check the area for any possible threats. I am a man on a mission at this point. A mission to pleasure my wife and free her from the shackles of raging pregnancy hormones.

My wife.

I still cannot believe she shares my last name. I cannot believe she gifted me the honor of calling her my wife - Mrs. Jackson.

"The missus left you high and dry huh?" A familiar country twang gauges my attention.

I turn to the short full-figured man with slicked-back gray hair. He held a small plate of appetizers in one hand and a glass in the other. I stifle a laugh as he manages to take a bite of a coxinha, a chicken croquette, and a swig of what I presume is wine. He does all of this without missing a beat.

"No, sir. I am actually about to excuse myself to go and check on her." I finally answer still watching him try that same trick again.

One bite.

One swig.

No mess.

It is truly amazing.

He hums as he chews before swallowing harshly.

"Ah, I see. Cannot wait to consummate the marriage!" He laughs hardly taking another sip.

A rush of heat fills my cheeks causing me to shift in my stance.

"She uh, wasn't feeling well." I struggle to avoid his gaze. "She's pregnant so you know we have to be careful." I try to recover.

Another hardy laugh escapes him.

I can feel his eyes on me and I refuse to meet his gaze. I do not want to have this conversation with anyone, let alone a Reverand.

"That's quite alright, son. Brother Michael, I do hope you know it is perfectly normal for--"

"She's expecting me now, I apologize for being rude, but I really have to go."

I do not spare him a second to refute my interruption before I turn away and shuffle, rather quickly, toward the same exit Jesse did minutes earlier.

I could not have left quick enough.

I glance down the halls checking for a bodyguard or staff member.

I just want to find Jesse - Mrs. Jackson.

I can still smell her so I follow her scent as I travel through the corridor until I find myself at the door of her beauty suite. A smile spreads my lips in anticipation of the next move.  I waste no time placing my palm on the handle and pushing through.

I slip inside slowly locking the door behind me.

The sun has long set and the moon graces the room with such an ethereal glow. Almost extraterrestrial. There's a cast of magenta occupying that glow. I am not sure where it is coming from but it has aided in setting the mood.

Somewhere in this capacious room, there is a hum of a familiar tune. A tune I know all too well. A tune that I remember exactly how I felt when Siedah Garret first presented to me. It reminded me of only one woman.

Her.

"I just want to hold you and lay next to you for a while." She croons.

If possible, somehow my smile widens as I continue my venture forward. I stop in my haste once I find her on a chaste teasing her hair. I can only see the back of her head, but I quickly notice her dress tossed on a nearby lounge chair.

She pauses as if she can feel my presence the vinyl still spinning onward.

"A lot of people misunderstand me, that's because they don't know me at all." I follow along with the vinyl.

She shifts in the chaste to look at me.

Fuck.

Long gone are her make-up, jewelry, and even her clothes. It is just her. The ravenous beauty.

Fuck.

"I just want to touch you and hold you." She joins in.

I move closer to her our gaze now fixated on one another.

"I need you. God, I need you." I finally reach her. "I love you so much."

She smiles small and charmingly.

"Hello, Mr. Jackson."

I mirror her smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Jackson."

Her smile widens into a smirk.

The air shifts as quickly as her smile. The temperature in the room has seemingly risen. My voice hums alongside Siedah's, but my focal point is her.

Always her.

"Take it off." Is all she says before rising from the chaste.

As if under a spell, I do as compelled.

My jacket makes a fuss as I struggle to detangle myself from it. I love Michael Bush for his genius creations, but I am damning him at this moment.

On the other hand, I cannot get over how mesmerizing she is.

In her pregnant glow, she is intoxicating. Her small belly protrudes carrying a life that I cannot wait to meet. Her mahogany skin is smooth and supple. I do not have to touch her to know. I just do.

Fuck.

The jacket finally gives in to my struggle and falls lifelessly to the floor. My shirt, trousers, boots, and socks precede the jacket.

I step over them and kick them away settling myself in front of her.

In the midst of my struggle, she managed to grab a chair.

Normally I would give her a discourse on why she does not need to be lifting and carrying things, but I know that is trivial at the moment and I have other ways of dealing with her.

She scoots to the edge a pillow behind her for support. Looking up at me she licks her lips mischief dancing gleefully in her eyes. She is going to put me through it and I am up for the challenge.

"Like what you see, Mrs. Jackson?" I tease palming my shaft.

I guide my palm up and down slowly gauging her reaction.

To my pleasure, she bites her lips and attempts to squeeze her legs before opening them again.

Although her belly hides the precious bud, I can still see her clearly.

I just want a taste.

A bite.

A meal.

"Lower." She whispers almost like a purr.

I abide, releasing myself before executing.

I wait for a beat for further instructions, but she is taking too long.

"I want you in my mouth now, Mrs. Jackson." I scoot closer nestling between her legs.

She releases a soft sigh eyes low and focused on mine.

Slowly I spread her legs tilting her hips forward after. I need to see her. The beautiful bud.

Licking my lips I slip my finger between her fold just to see if there is a sea. Surely enough I release a groan of my own. The sea is abundant just for me. All of these years and the sea is abundant just for me.

She mews in compliance rolling her hips with my fingers guiding her. I watch her even when her eyes close I watch her. She is so heavenly to watch crumble.

"Fuck, Michael." She mews.

I smile and circle her pearl with my thumb.

"You deserve this Jess. Mrs. Jackson." I encourage her. "So fucking much."

She only nods eyes opening every once in a while.

Not wanting her to break just yet I slowly retrieve my hand forcing her to look at me.

"You taste so fucking good, Mrs. Jackson." I groan licking each digit.

Her chest rises and falls violently her eyes following my motions. I got her exactly where I want her. She was in control at first. It was adorable. Admirable even, but now it's my turn.

"Spread her, let me see." It isn't a question, but a demand.

She executes her eyes begging me to hurry.

I smile taking a dive into the ocean I call home.

Her.

I take her in gently. Applying pressure to her sensitive folds guided by the rhythm of her hips. Her fingers have long forgotten to hold steady as they have found a new home deep in my hair.

"Fuck Michael, baby right there! Right there. J-Just stay right there, papa." She clamps her legs to hold me in place. "Yes, yes, yes. Right there" She adds her hips rocking vehemently.

I push her legs apart and place them on my shoulders.

She tastes so wonderful. Her essence is addicting. It drives me insane how much I enjoy being in this position pleasuring her and having her crumble in my mouth.

I love her.

"I... Love..." I mumble against her folds slipping in a hooked finger.

"Oh fuck, Michael! I-I-" Her legs are quaking around me now.

"You..." I slip the digit out "Mrs..." I slip it back in.

"No-no-no...." She mews squeezing her legs.

I have no mercy for her.

She thought she was in control.

"Jackson..."I mumble removing my hand to hold her legs steady on my shoulders.

She begins to squirm whimpering about not being able to take it. I can only smile against her bud as I wait for the big rush. I will remain famished if I do not receive my helping from that wonderful flood of hers.

Soon enough my famine comes to an end with a beautiful serenade of hers and a delicious flow from her partner. I lap her up and hold her still.

I am not done.

"Mic-Baby, please..."

Her cries fall on deaf ears.

I am not done.

With a strong grip, I hold her steady sliding my tongue slowly through her velvet walls. Blowing a gentle wind just to watch her jump and whimper. I want to slip inside her, but I just need one more from her. One more helping of her and I will venture further.

"One more" I mumble.

"Wha-Baby, please..."

I disregard her completely losing myself.

Her taste.

Her smell.

She's intoxicating.

Her legs begin shaking again she had already begun jerking. I know it's coming. She's almost there. I want to see her get there.

I raise my head briefly to demand her eyes. I need our locked gaze so we can reach the nadir together.

"Eye's on me, mama. Eye's on me." I encourage her.

She nods, ecstasy having her in its grasp.

I position myself comfortably to maintain eye contact while I finish her off.

Her eyes hold an abundance of emotions and I know one of them is love and the other is trust. In those doe eyes of hers is everything I need. Everything I work and pray for. Everything I have ever longed for.

She deserves this and so much more.

When she erupts I have to stifle my own. She sounds so beautiful so angelic.

"You taste so fucking good, Jess," I grunt licking my lips as I rise.

I take her lips in mine with another groan hushing her own moans of delight.

"Mmm..." She smiles against my lips before rising. "Baby I need you. Inside. Now." She quickly adds gently pushing me away.

I allow her to guide me toward another corner of the room. There is no bed just a lengthy shaggy pearl rug. With a pillow in hand, she takes my hand and guides us to the ground.

"Right here? Are you sure?" I ask concerned for her comfort.

She remains silent motioning for me to lay down. The shaggy rug is quite comfortable so I have no complaints, but I am worried about her.

"I just want to feel you baby." She purrs spreading my legs. "You feel so good inside of me." She guides her fingernails up and down my thighs.

"Jess..." I growl reaching for her wrist to guide her on top of me.

"I just need you to fill me." She continues setting the pillow adjacent to us. "Fill me" She whispers.

I am putty for this being. Whatever she wants she will receive. I will make a mountain out of the water if she so desires.

I will do anything for this woman.

Soon we are connected, apex to apex.

My hands on her hips.

Her palms on my chest.

She rocks into me slowly with a dangerous grip. Her knees are strong as she soon finds a rhythm to bounce to. I follow her with ease. syncing our paces as we huff, groan, and moan. I try to maintain eye contact, but I am weak. A mere mortal gazing upon a goddess as she takes my soul.

"You're so fucking Gorgeous Jess." I groan. "Ride it out for me. Ride it out for me."

I maintain the balance for her trying to remember she is still very much pregnant.

"Michael... Fuck Michael!" She tosses her head back slowing her pace to that wonderful whine again.

She will be the death of me.

"Let me have it, mama. Give it to me." I groan meeting her roll for roll. "Fuck Jess!"

I don't want to spill over just yet. I need her to reach that peak first I need her satisfied.

Her cries precede and I catch them as soon as they fell from her lips. I lean forward to hold her while she quakes feeling my own imminent release. Her siren overwhelms me. I am enamored and honored to be the cause of them.

My own tidal waves come moments later. I maintain my grip on her whispering my devotions to her. Like the sinner to the priest as if she would deliver me from these pleasures.

I am still not done.

"Flip, mama."

She is slow to dismount when grabbing a pillow and a fresh stray towel. I know she is tired, but this is what she asked for. This is what she wanted.

No mercy.

Once she is positioned I graze my lips down her spine before using the towel to clean her up. I give her one last peck tossing the towel.

Readjusting her I slide my fingers through her bud.

"Comfortable?" I ask still grazing her bud.

"Yes..." She exhales.

With a smile, I position myself to enter her world again.

Ever so inviting.

Ever so illusive.

She grips me and moans in approval as if she felt my sentiments.

"Fuck Jess..."

I am moving slowly, but it's torturous.

Between her menacing grip and her whimpers, I will surely retire to an early grave.

"Yes, baby. Michael right there." She pushes against me. "More."

Maintaining one hand to hold her steady, I use the other to slip into her folds.

"Take it, mama. Give it to me." I growl feeling my own pressure building.

"Yes, Michael. Fuck!" Her familiar quakes return.

This only encourages me to apply more pressure to her bud and slow my pace in order to deepen my thrusts.

"I-I baby! I love-oooh!" She finally caves her body quivering as she uses the pillow to support her.

I release her bud balancing both hands on her hips as I chase my release.

"I love you, Jess. I-Jess!" My release soon finds me shaking me to my core this round.

In the midst of my own high, I guide her safely onto her side and straddle her. Our breathing is heavy chests rising and falling nearly in sync with one another. The most comforting feeling.

"I love you, Mrs. Jackson." I exhale pecking her shoulder.

"I love you, Mr. Jackson" She whispers.