New York Nights: The Wedding Night (M)
Just because people have been asking for little snippets here and there and because I suddenly decided that some of my stories weren't entirely done! So I hope you enjoy them!
Although some of them are rated a T, as some are rated M, all of them are rated M for safety! This one has some married smut in it. Well, they're pregnant and tying the knot people!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with CBS or the show
Dedications: To Tinks, Sam, X-Samilious-X and Dori and all of my other regular reviewers! I know some of you are missing one of my OCs desperately!
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Harrison slipped her the envelope the afternoon before the final fitting. His wedding present to her, he told her. She opened it to find she now had two nights in a luxury two bedroom suite at the Waldorf Astoria. She smiled to herself.
Now that was a wedding present and a half.
So here she was, the night before her wedding, with her best friend Jess Angell, drinking champagne and letting the resident beauty experts work their magic on them. Well, Jess was drinking champagne. She was drinking a non-alcoholic cocktail, given her status of knocked up.
Her wedding dress was shot silk, in a Regency design (well she did have a Pride and Prejudice fetish after all), a traditional dress with a cross-over bust line and closure: A series of hooks and eyes hidden under the seams. Which meant, basically, that her future husband would have little problems with access on their wedding night tomorrow. She giggled, lifting her hand to her lips. Jess looked across at her and frowned. Her dress was similar to one the actress playing Elizabeth Bennett had worn in the BBC drama, red and slightly revealing. Jess had been enamored of it as soon as her friend had paused the DVD and asked her what she thought of it as her dress. Jess had decided on the full regency underwear and corset too, although that wasn't an option for her, given her pregnancy, although she had a lightly boned petticoat to go with her dress. Both women looked simply stunning in their dresses. She was wearing a whisper of a veil over her hair, which tomorrow the hairdresser was going to tease into a mass of ringlets in a mock period design to go with the dress. Jess was going to have her curls on top of her head too, with flowers tucked in. They had spent a great deal of time in the salon planning the designs. Their bouquets, now sitting in the refrigerator to keep them fresh, matched their dresses and each other. Jess had admitted that her friend looked absolutely stunning in her dress and she would be very surprised if she actually made it to the altar once her future husband got one look at her.
The women relaxed in their chairs, allowing the therapist to pamper them with manicures, pedicures and full-on gentle facials. All organized by a childhood friend of Jess' from Brooklyn, a woman who knew her stuff when it came to the beauty salons of New York.
Soft jazz filled the room as she let out a sigh. She loved her sleepovers with Jess, although the drunken, girly, dancing nights were a thing of the past.
In less than 24 hours, she would be Mrs. Donald Flack Jr. And she just couldn't wait.
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The blue-eyed detective tugged his tie loose as he stood at the bar of Sullivan's with his colleagues, family and friends. His father was living up the good old days with Sinclair and Gerrard, plus a few old buddies from his day and his old mentor, Gavin Moran, who he had recently gotten back in touch with, was regaling them with a few stories about the young Donnie on the beat. Judging from the roars of laughter, he wasn't getting off lightly. Flack winced.
He took a long mouthful of his pint of Guinness, regarding his colleagues, all getting slightly the worse for wear at the bar, cat-calling and wolf-whistling at the pretty girls in the bar and passing by outside. He really didn't want to think about what might have happened if he'd planned a bachelor party as opposed to telling everyone to meet him here after their shifts ended. At least he was going to be spared a stripper, even if his bride-to-be had smirked and said she wouldn't hold it against him if any pictures of him surfaced with a scantily clad woman on his knee and a thong in his teeth. Truth was, he just wasn't interested in any of that and hadn't been for a very long time. Especially not now he was going to be a father to boot.
All of which was why his current side-kick and companion was one Danny Messer, a man recently married himself, also with a new baby. Danny hadn't been able to hide his relief and joy at the fact that he, Don Flack, was now also tying the knot. So far, in the last months since he'd shacked up with the woman who had made him the happiest man on earth, he'd spent a good number of evenings over at the Messers and they at his place. Correction – his new place. A very nice four bed, split level house in Queens not ten minutes from his parents' place. Mom and Dad adored his fiancée and she them. He couldn't say the same about her parents unfortunately. Mom hadn't taken well the news that his future bitch-in-law had tried to buy him off. Their fathers had little in common as well. However, despite his choice in wife, his soon-to-be brother-in-law was popular with both sides of the family. Harrison and his Dad enjoyed a mutual love of all things sporting, much to his future mother-in-law's horror. They had all come over to the folks' place for dinner the night before and Miranda (Harrison's fiancée) Vanessa and Stanley had been horrified when Harrison had accepted an invitation to drink beer and watch sports with the Flack men in the basement den. Harrison had ended up sleeping on the couch down there long after the rest of the family had retired to their hotels, beds and homes. Flack smirked at the memory of Harrison snoring peacefully clutching a teddy bear that he, Don Flack, had sworn he'd never seen before, but which he was sure his mother had told his future wife had been with him every night from the first one he'd spent in his home to the last before he'd moved into his apartment.
Danny slapped his back before placing another pint in front of him. Right before checking his watch. After all, he had two Messer women he needed to get home to. Flack cast a look round the bar and saw Stella and Mac trying desperately to deal with a considerably worse-for-wear Adam, who was singing some South Park tune very loudly and very out of tune. Mac shot an apologetic look at Flack as the two of them guided Adam out of the bar. Hawkes approached the bar and sat on the stool the other side of Flack.
"How are you doing?" the former ME asked.
"Yeah bud, any last requests?" said Danny with a snicker.
"Very funny," muttered Flack, taking another slurp from his pint glass, "No last requests except for this – get me outta here you two, before one of those jack-asses produced the stripper they've no doubt managed to sort out."
"Did you really think the precinct couldn't rustle something up, even at this short notice?" asked Hawkes with a grin. The NYPD did, after all, have its contacts.
Flack groaned. Danny slapped him on the back again.
"OK buddy," he said, "Let's get you outta here the back way."
Hawkes and Danny escorted their soon-not-to-be-single friend out of the bar. Flack was staying with Hawkes, to ensure he had a good night's sleep that wasn't broken by a baby crying. Louise Messer had a bad case of colic. His best man said goodnight and the two other men headed back to Hawkes' bachelor pad.
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Rebecca admitted she had a bad case of the jitters. She also had a bad case of the butterflies, seeing as their baby had decided that morning was the ideal opportunity to announce their first movements. She had woken Jess up early with the news, as her fiancé wasn't there. A grumpy and slightly hung-over Jess had thrown a pillow at her and told her to go away, before jumping out of bed and smothering her in a hug when Rebecca had told her why she had woken her up.
Now, after breakfast and an extremely painful encounter with the hair stylist, she was patiently enduring the BeneFit girls giggling while doing her make-up. She so wanted this whole day to be over, but she had to admit they were doing a good job of hiding the bags under her eyes from little sleep when parted from her blue-eyed hero, the paleness due to the morning sickness she was still enduring into her second trimester on occasion and the hormonal issues that were plaguing her skin. Jess was enduring similar torture.
Just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, a knock at the door announced her mother and future sister-in-law.
Mommy dearest was not happy with her choice of dresses or her maid of honor, let alone that the ceremony, soon to be held downstairs, was a Catholic one. Rebecca didn't care. She just wanted the day to be over and to be in her future husband's arms again.
No-one ever told you how horny being pregnant made you and she had been deprived of her insanely handsome's fiance's amazing bedroom talents for the better part of 36 hours.
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He had to hand it to his future mother-in-law; she had pulled out all the stops for this. He resisted the urge to loosen his bow tie and glanced around the room. All cream walls and flower arrangements. Through the doors was another room, set out for dinner and dancing. It was a small wedding, but stylish nonetheless. Rebecca had managed to control her mother's attempts for a large society wedding (since the whole near-arrest moment over the bribery incident, Mommy toed the line with her daughter) and had been restrained to colleagues of the bride and groom, plus family from both sides. The guest list had come in at under 100 thankfully, but even so, this small wedding was going to put a dent in his future-in-laws bank accounts that he was sure he wouldn't have been able to afford. He had had a text message from his future wife informing them that their first night together as husband and wife would be a) courtesy of her brother and b) upstairs, so they would be able to sneak away whenever they liked and go back to the reception if they so wanted. Not that they would. He was missing her like hell as much as she was him.
A few minutes later, a second text message had informed him of just what she expected from him as his first husbandly acts, an x-rated message that had him blush slightly and Messer chuckle a little when Flack told him who had sent the message.
"She missing you buddy?" his Best Man had asked.
So now he was sitting next to Danny and Hawkes, the judge in front of them (close personal friend of the family), the priest next to him waiting to perform the Catholic blessing. His parents were in the row of chairs behind him and his future family sat over the small aisle. He was waiting for his future wife, dressed in a tux, seeing as she'd been told about how good he looked in one by Stella.
The music being played by the quartet (tone deaf though he was, he had been reliably informed they were Juilliard educated and international standard) suddenly changed and Messer cleared his throat. Flack stood alongside his friends and turned, to see the love of his life, on the arm of her father, glowing as she made her way towards him with a smile on her face. She was beautiful, stunning in her simple, classic cream silk dress, a whisper-thin veil over her curls, a bouquet of cream roses with baby's breath in her free hand. Then she was next to him, he was pushing the veil back from her face and he was looking into her deep brown eyes.
And all of a sudden, everyone else in the room melted away and all he could think about was how he was marrying the woman of his dreams and having a baby with her.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey yourself," she replied, with a smile.
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The ceremony almost went without a hitch. Flack was so engrossed in his future wife that he had to be poked firmly in the ribs to make his responses by Rebecca, which caused a few grins.
What caused outright laughter was when, as the judge asked if anyone had any objections to the marriage, baby Louise Messer had decided that was the moment to let out a loud wail of annoyance and wave her chubby hands in the air as her mother frantically shushed her. Danny had finally broken down in laughter and had to be thumped on the back by Hawkes as he'd started to choke.
Neither bride nor groom had paid much attention to the speeches, the toasts or the table of wedding gifts (the more useful, thoughtful and wanted from their friends, the more useless and expensive from her family, although one or two had stuck to the wedding list).
They had danced the obligatory dance. They had shared the obligatory drinks. He had whipped off her garter with his teeth then flung it at Hawkes, who then had to pose with Jess Angell on his knee, seeing as she had caught the bride's bouquet.
Now they were biding the time before they could go upstairs and get acquainted with each other all over again as Mister and Missus.
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They restrained themselves in the elevator on the way to their floor. They only enjoyed some utterly chaste kisses, both smiling all the while as their lips met in a series of soft caresses.
They had all the time in the world for more passion.
At the door to their suite, he lifted her into his arms as she snuck the room card out of her bra (the only place she could stash it) and unlocked their door, smiling all the while as she fiddled and cursed with the lock. Then he kicked the door wide open and strode into the room. He carried her over to an over-sized armchair – one made for two – and gently placed her on it. He leaned forward and kissed her again, deepening the kiss with his tongue. As he pulled back, she had a questioning look in her eyes.
"Why aren't we going through to the bedroom?" she asked.
He just grinned in reply, a flash of devilment appearing in his deep blue eyes, before he knelt in front of her. She smiled and parted her legs. Despite the fabric, he moved easily between them.
"I love this dress," he said, "But I think I'd like it better if you were out of it."
She took his hands and brought them to the crossover bodice, showing him the hooks and eyes that held it closed. He brought his mouth to her neck, kissing and teasing his way down the vee neckline as he undid each one slowly. He heard her sigh, his wife, her breathing start to alter. He knew without looking that her eyes would be closed, her hands now clenched on the arms of the chair. He finished dealing with the dress and parted it, laying it open. He looked at the boned, silk petticoat under-dress underneath it, over a thin silk shift and frowned as he realized he would have to remove it entirely to gain access to her pregnancy enlarged breasts. Still, he caressed them gently through the silk fabric, hearing her let loose a small moan. She was so damn sensitive there now, he thought, sometimes just kissing and sucking her nipples these days brought her almost over the edge, he thought, thinking back to their last nights as a single co-habiting couple. Despite the fact she frequently told him she almost couldn't bear the sensation of it, she frequently was the one holding his dark head to her breast as he lapped at the sensitive flesh, the veins now visible due to the pregnancy hormones, her nipples darker, more rosy and enlarged.
He had to try a new tactic. So he lifted the silk under-dress, running his hands up her hose-clad legs, removing her ballet-style silk slippers that went with the dress. He stopped as he reached her knees, pushing the fabric higher and bent his head, kissing his way the rest of the way up her thighs. She sighed more heavily at that. He placed his hands behind her knees, pulling her so that she came forward to her buttocks were now on the edge of the seat. He pushed the fabric of the under-dress to her waist and the knee-length shift soon followed.
Which was when he realized that aside from the hold-up hose, was all the underwear she was wearing.
He lifted his head and looked at her. She blushed a little.
"Well, I was going with the traditional Regency look and they didn't wear panties," Rebecca explained.
He just smiled in reply and pushed the fabric right out of the way. He returned his lips to the soft skin of her inner thighs, licking and teasing his way up and down, getting a little higher each time, yet still avoiding going where she wanted him to. She kept her hands on the arms of the chair, her eyes now closed, panting slightly.
He gently moved her legs further apart, looking at the secret place he knew so well at the juncture of her thighs. He gently stroked the curls before parting the flesh, eliciting a gasp from his wife. He looked at the rosy flesh, starting to swell in arousal, before gently stroking her some more. The panting gave way to a moan. As he touched and probed the sensitive flesh, the moaning turned to mewling with pleasure, followed by slight movements of her hips, moving in time to the gentle ministrations of his fingers, moving them closer to where she needed them to be.
Then he stopped, moving away from her towards the wet bar, where someone had left a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice and two champagne glasses. He heard his wife protest and started to move herself upright, something she soon stopped doing when she saw the look in her husband's eyes. She settled herself backwards onto the cushions and waited for him.
He opened the bottle, the cork popping, poured himself a glass and returning to her, positioning himself where he had been before. He took a mouthful of the golden, bubbling liquid and bent his head, allowing the fizz to stimulate her clit.
He guessed from her gasps and cries, that she was enjoying it. He swallowed the mouthful, before taking another and repeating the action. He moved his hand and began stroking her folds, feeling the flutters of her pre-orgasm already beginning. He smirked in satisfaction, inserting a finger into her, causing her to buck wildly. He inserted another finger, gently thrusting them in and out of her, stimulating her g-spot as he did so. It was something he knew she loved.
Since she had gotten pregnant, making love had got even better between them, which was impressive considering it had been mind-blowing before that. What had been intense before now had even less restraint than before, although he had tempered his passion with gentleness now she was pregnant, the connection growing every day.
He continued what he was doing, it taking no time at all before her orgasm hit her, her crying out his name over and over. He stood again, picking her up in his arms, kissing her so she could taste herself on his lips. She kissed him back hungrily, winding her arms around his neck.
Smiling, he carried her through to the bedroom.
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He sat her on the edge of the king size bed, gently divesting her of the two remaining garments, but leaving the hose one, something that caused her to smile knowingly at him.
He did like the hose, she thought, especially when she left her heels on. Yes, he particularly enjoyed the sensation of her digging her three inch heels into his back. But not tonight. He helped her get more comfortable on the bed, before she watched him undress himself.
He'd lost the tie right after their first dance. But he was still wearing the rest of the tux. Stella had been right about how good he looked in one, she mused, but she hadn't told her how hot he looked in the suit. Damn, he did fulfill a girl's every secret agent fantasy. That was something to note in the play book for later, handcuffs notwithstanding.
His blue eyes were locked with hers as he stripped the jacket, the shirt, the trousers. She caught a breath when she realized he wasn't wearing his usual wife-beater, so she was treated to the sight of his wash-board abs and his scars a little sooner than usual. The sight, as always, never failed to make her gasp. He smirked as he heard it, knowing the effect the sight of him had on her.
He slowed down his strip as he handled his belt, watching the look on her face, her biting her lip with some small frustration as he slowly undid the button and drew the zip down, hissing as he accidently brushed his own sensitive flesh. The trousers dropped, taking his boxers along with them. He kicked both garments off, along with his shoes before bending and removing his socks. Then he stood, erect and proud, in front of her.
His wife smiled and held her arms out to him and he climbed onto the bed and kissed her, his hands roaming over her body as hers roamed his, touching, pinching, her nails grazing his back as he latched onto first her left breast, before repeating the action on her right. He raised his head to watch the tell-tale flush begin to stain her skin again. He could feel the rush of wetness from her folds on his thigh, which was between hers. He lifted his head and smiled at her, before his eyes flashed as he felt her hands on him, stroking his member. He bit his own lip, throwing his head back with how good it felt, before reaching down and taking her hands away from him. He nudged her legs further apart with both of his, making room for him between them. He settled himself at the apex of her thighs, making her move apart a little more. She gripped his shoulders, her eyes widening as they did every time they made love. He smiled, locking his gaze with hers.
She could feel him, the tip of him at her entrance and she looked deep into his eyes as he entered her, the feel of him making her gasp again, as it always did. She could never get enough of him, never.
They moved together, at first slowly, savoring every touch, caress and sensation, before their movements got less controlled, more passionate. He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder to enable deeper movements and increase the sensation for them both. It also allowed him access to gently rub her clit, something he knew from experience brought her swiftly to orgasm, something that happened soon after.
Listening to her cries, he thrust deeper into her, again and again, feeling her arms and legs closing all around him, holding him close, allowing him deeper. He felt himself lose control as she whispered in his ear to let go, to take as much pleasure from her as he always gave to her and he groaned, allowing his passion to take over. He achieved his release, spilling into her in several hot gushed of fluid. He heard her satisfied little sighs in his ear as he collapsed onto her, satiated. He kissed her softly, she nibbled his lips in return, their tongues dancing with each other as he gently withdrew from her. He moved behind her, one arm on the pillow above their heads, the other holding her to him, his big hand on the swell of her belly, protecting their baby.
They danced their own private wedding dance many more times that night.
But the moment they were both to remember was the instant the judge had presented them to the gathered guests as Mr. and Mrs. Don Flack Junior.
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Well you kids have been asking for more smut and for more of my home-girl so I hope you're all pleased!
