A/N: It was demanded by my reviewers as they balked at me skipping over any kind of wedding. I declare them right. Enjoy the wedding chapter - just for you guys.
Epilogue: Part 2
Sydney looked through the window at the scene in the sand with a soft smile on her face, the sun nearly set and casting an orange and fiery yellow glow across the water and cresting waves. Rows of chairs seating around twenty were facing a natural driftwood-styled archway decorated with light blue and white flowers complemented by lace wrapping. The archway was flanked by short lattice fencing with the ocean as the backdrop, the area just wide enough to accommodate the wedding party while placing the bride and groom with the officiant in the middle.
They'd thought of going simple - the most important people and no big to-do, but the more she thought about things the more she realized that this would be her one and only wedding and likely the first normal thing she could actually have. Planning commenced, Francie catered from her new second restaurant location closer to where they'd moved, invitations went out, and shopping for dresses and suits took place all in the span of what felt like a very short month.
Despite the fact that they were already married, being super pregnant in all of her wedding photos wasn't something she wanted to explain when and if anyone years from now asked while sifting through photo albums.
An air of melancholy hit her as she realized that no matter how normal of a moment this was supposed to be, her life had been anything but, and it was still going to show. Standing beside her would only be Francie, and by Vaughn would only be Weiss, as a lack of close friends necessitated a short list of bridesmaids and groomsmen. Her mother was still in a C.I.A. prison cell, and she couldn't help but feel that something was going to crash through the perfect painting that her life was starting to become and send everything back into the chaotic tangle of wires she'd been spending so much time and energy to undo.
"When you were a baby I used to bounce you on my knee and sing you French lullabies," a soft voice spoke, Sydney jumping despite the gentleness and turning to see her mother-in-law leaning against the door jamb in a beautiful lavender dress.
The apology was written in her blue eyes as she moved into the room and closed the door behind her, the silky material swishing over the sandals strapped to her feet. "Sorry, dear."
Waving her off with a dimpled smile Sydney turned away from the window. "I forget that our families knew each other back then." Seeing the greying eyebrows raise, she clarified - sort of, "my...my father told me after I woke up."
"I never thought I would end up with a daughter that speaks my native language. Alice would roll her eyes and look to Michael for translation, and I'll admit that sometimes the things I said weren't...very nice. It was always fun to watch him scramble and lie for me. I won't be able to get away with that now, will I?"
Sydney laughed, the blonde ex-girlfriend having been wholly forgotten over the last year or so, and she realized that she'd never asked him if he'd fully broken up with Alice before beginning a whirlwind secret romance with her those many months ago.
"I can pretend if you'd like, but I speak around ten so it may be tough."
The two enjoyed a quiet moment, Sydney smoothing the front of the dress as Deloreme watched the sun sink lower toward the sea.
"You were this...bright-eyed ball of lightning," the mother laughed, the French lilting off her lips like a fine wine. "My boy would follow you around telling you what to do, making sure you were following the rules, which, of course, you weren't."
Sydney chuckled, "that sounds like us."
"I know today isn't the day, and honestly, the time needn't be wasted, but it carved my soul from my body to see you in that room…with that man." The smile slowly fell from Sydney's face, though Deloreme's eyes were still sparkling and her voice kept the soothing tenor and pace. "I had always thought that I would see you and Michael together. Maybe just out of high school becoming sweethearts; maybe...holding hands in elementary school before one of you decided that the opposite sex was gross. I knew something would draw you together, I never imagined it would be that."
"Actually, we started dating two months before that but...secrets. You're," a small grin returned, "you're the first person I've ever actually told that," she said honestly.
The mother laughed, "truth takes time, darling."
Sydney's heart panged in her chest and tears sprang to her eyes. "What did you say?"
Deloreme moved forward and reached out to grab the baby's breath floral crown that was chosen in lieu of a veil, "truth takes time. Your mother used to say that quite often, rest her soul, and it brought me comfort through many trials. If she were here today, love," she paused and reached up to set the crown arrangement on the top of the speechless young woman's head, "she would be so proud."
The hair was up and pinned at the top of her head with several chosen strands hanging in wavy curls along her cheeks. Bringing her hands down she tenderly caressed the brown locks, the lighter highlights streaking through like rays of the setting sun outside.
Smiling through the tears, Sydney wiped at one that escaped with the back of her finger. "I was just thinking about her." While true, definitely not in the way Vaughn's mom would understand. To her, Sydney's mother was still Laura Bristow who had died in a car accident when the girl was six, and to her, that's how she would stay.
Stepping back to admire her new daughter, Deloreme folded her hands flat palm to palm under her chin with a wide bright smile as she took in the simple but elegant white gown. The straps were thin over Sydney's shoulders, adjusted perfectly to not bite into the skin but keep everything from slipping. Once past her collarbone they became widening triangles over both breasts meeting in the valley with a 'V'. Below her breasts, it tapered along with the trim of her waist, the tightness giving way at her belly button to loose, flowing, layered fabric hanging just above her toes, the sandals strappy, flat, and perfect for the setting.
"Turn, let me check the back," Deloreme said while twirling her finger.
The upper part of the back swooping around from under her arms all see-through lace, and both left and right sides had decorative fleurs with sweeping lines that met in the underneath her shoulder blades. Checking, the loops were in place over round fabric buttons with nothing amiss.
"Beautiful. Are you ready?"
Butterflies danced in her stomach at the question. "I don't know why I'm nervous, we're already married," Sydney grumbled and flattened her hand over her stomach.
The growing lump of their child only showed about an inch so far, hidden perfectly beneath the white fabric, but she could feel it and since it had begun to emerge, one or both of them had a hand there many times throughout the day. Flickering caught her eye and she turned to see the white strings of lights over the archway and fencing come to life as well as the beautiful hanging paper lanterns that now scattered a soft glow over the sand and seats.
"Signing a piece of paper in a basement is a bit different than today, love," the mother grinned and held out her hand, Sydney taking it with a smile and letting herself be led from the master bedroom and into the hallway. Her father stood at the end, dapper in a black suit jacket and a crisp white button-up shirt, the missing tie giving him an air of casualness to which she was still trying to adjust.
In his hands were a bouquet of white lilies, and he wore a proud smile despite his stiff posture.
"Ready, sweetheart? I just had a heart to heart with Michael," he said smoothly, a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes.
"Dad," she grumbled, Deloreme patting her arm.
"I'll make sure he's fine. See you soon, dear."
Brown eyes followed the mother-in-law toward the back door where curtains hung over the mirage of windows blocking the view of much of the outside. She hadn't seen Vaughn all day save for waking in his arms that morning before Francie and his mother showed to help prepare everything. Another wave of excitement bubbled.
"You look beautiful," he said reverently.
"You think you finally scared him off?"
Jack grinned, the glower on her face offset by the slight dimple he could see on her right cheek and the minute crinkle and uplift at the corner of her eyes. The black liner and hint of blue eyeshadow was a backdrop to the full lashes set above her twinkling eyes. The makeup was subtle yet present, a perfect match to the flowing hair and dress.
He didn't answer, merely passed to her the bouquet and held out his arm for her to take. The music flowed from the speakers set both in and outside, Sydney sighing and rolling her eyes before hooking her left arm through his as Jack walked her toward the open back door.
…
"I have something for you," Jack said curtly as he stepped up to the circle where Michael stood with Weiss and Will flanking right and left. Turning without waiting for a response, Weiss couldn't help but throw out the middle school "ooooooh" taunt, others joining with a laugh. Knowing this moment was coming, though hoping it would have happened hours ago and not right before the ceremony, Vaughn passed off his drink and straightened the line of his jacket before heading after his father-in-law.
Walking into the cool interior, he couldn't keep his eyes from darting around to look for Sydney. No luck, so he followed Jack through the kitchen, several of Francie's employees tossing smiles and friendly 'hellos' as they prepared the food for the reception. Passing the hallway, the laundry room, past an unused utility room that Sydney was thinking of turning into a workout studio, a bubble of anxiety began to fill his stomach.
"Jack, if you're taking me out to kill me, couldn't you have done it before we set everything up?"
The elder scoffed but kept walking, the door to the garage opened, the light flipped on, the garage door opened, and still, Vaughn followed. Lines of cars were parked in the driveway and along the dirt-packed road that led to the entry gate, all locked up tight with the guard the C.I.A. had lent standing at attention.
Making the way to his sedan, Jack opened the passenger door and picked up a file box, Vaughn balking. "Seriously? Work?"
"Open it," he ordered trying to maintain his hard and steely stare and pushing it into his surprised son-in-law's arms.
Pulling off the lid with a grumble, Michael found it to be filled with baby clothes in various shades of pinks and yellows, the news of the baby's gender sweeping like fire through the small group. On top sat several framed photographs, smiling faces he recognized making his heart slam into his sternum. Looking up with surprise at the intimidating man, he saw the faked hardness slip away as the father hit him with soft blue eyes and a smile.
Setting the box on the hood of the car, Michael pulled the photos out one by one. Jack holding Sydney as a baby. Jack and, at the time, Laura Bristow posing for a photograph with her at one year old. Deloreme pressing a kiss to the top of a blonde head, himself as a babe wrapped in a blue blanket. His parents holding him on a hip between them and posing at some kind of function.
The last and largest made Vaughn's chin quiver to see himself as a toddler on Jack Bristow's hip with Sydney cradled in a fluffy pink and white dress by Bill Vaughn as the two talked, Deloreme and Laura in their own conversation off to the side. Someone must have called their names when snapping the picture, the quick but bright smiles showing the confidence and contentment of an era long gone, and he sniffled before wiping at his nose with the back of his hand.
"Jack...I," he stopped, the man releasing an airy chuckle.
"That last one was, ironically, taken by Arvin Sloane." Pausing and toeing at the sand as the unfamiliar feeling of embarrassment sneaked up, Jack continued. "Your mother helped with the photos. Those on my end were...buried, but found."
Holding out one last image, framed and the perfect size for a desk, "this one's my favorite...I think."
Sydney as a baby with a mop of brown curls at the top of her head was looking adoringly up at the blonde toddler holding her gently but awkwardly on his tiny lap. Her hand was grasped around his fingers and he must have been explaining something, his pink lips parted as a smile popped the dimple in on his right cheek while he looked down at her with excited green eyes.
"You've loved her your whole life, all I ask is that it stays that way."
Michael didn't trust his voice as he looked up to the fire-hued sky as tears trailed down his smooth cheeks. Nodding he turned, watery green hitting watery blue, and in two steps Vaughn wrapped his arms around the surprised father holding him tight. Responding with a hug of his own, his hand patting the younger's back, the two parted.
Reverently repacking the photos back into the box it was carried into the garage, Michael slipping out the front to circle to the back of the house and the party outside, not wanting to risk seeing Sydney too soon as they had been making the effort to keep with tradition, something missing from both of their lives for far too long. His hands were deep in the pockets of the blue dress pants that matched the blazer, and his eyes focused on the setting sun as it nearly finished its journey into the horizon.
"Oh good, Michael; Marshall was wondering if-" Francie started, and then stopped seeing the softness of his features, wet eyes, and the drying tears on his cheeks. "You okay?"
Vaughn shook his head and cleared his throat, his hands wiping quickly at his cheeks and eyes, "yeah. Yeah, sorry. Something about what now?"
"Marshall wanted to know if you wanted to start the music? It's just about time."
"Yeah. Let's do it."
Grinning, the young woman pulled a tissue from a cache hid inside the left bra cup of her dress, handing it his way. "I've got more, trust me."
He laughed and rubbed his eyes and cheeks before slipping it into his pocket, Francie moving off to get things rolling. His mother stepped out from the house, Vaughn heading her way with a smile.
"There you are," she said brightly. "I forgot how intimidating Jack Bristow was. Did he scare you off?"
Rather than answering, he looped his arm through hers and led her to her seat, "thanks for the photos," he whispered while pressing a kiss to her cheek, the sheen of renewed tears in their eyes shared as he moved to stand next to Eric. His friend was in a matching pair of dress pants, though the blue blazer was missing as he stood only in a white button-up shirt. Formal yet casual, the attire befitting a wedding on the beach.
Now, all they had to do was wait.
…
She thought she was going to throw up. Pausing before the exit to suck in a few deep breaths, her father snapped his fingers until a glass of water appeared. She sipped it with a thankful smile and willed her nervous stomach to settle down.
'Come on, kid. This won't be the first time I ask you to settle down, but tonight of all nights, please listen despite the fact that you're part Bristow. Settle down,' she begged internally. Mercifully, be it the water or her first mother/daughter pep talk, everything relaxed as the soft music played.
With one final deep breath, this time for courage, they stepped through the doorway, the other side such a stark contrast that it felt like a portal to a new world. The sky was a deep glowing chasm, cloudless as it stretched on forever. The single bright twinkle of a star poked through the twilight as the sand was darkened at the shore by cresting waves of orange and yellow shimmers.
Since before they'd known attraction for one another, if that time even existed, she'd been able to feel his eyes on her. Now was no different.
Michael Vaughn had been many things to her since they'd met what felt like an eternity ago.
Confidant. Coworker. Antagonizer. Handler. Friend. Advisor. Crush. Boss. Sounding board. Guardian angel. Frustration. Listener. Lover. Husband.
He stood waiting across what felt like a secondary sea of sand and people, but everything faded away when their eyes locked. She could read everything on his face in an instant, a secret smile lifting their lips simultaneously. She'd marry him a dozen times for him to look at her like this again. His gaze was all love and longing and shone like a beacon calling to her, a lost ship at sea focusing on her lighthouse.
The suit hugged his shoulders and chest before tapering down his waist, a small folded square of a handkerchief sticking up from the breast pocket the only accent. Buttoned over his stomach the blazer was snug over the tie-less white button-up shirt, and tight to his hips were matching blue dress pants ending over his bare feet. She grinned recalling their argument the day before that his dress shoes sank too far into the sand on his trial walk, so he decided he would go barefoot. She had wanted to fight him but realized quickly that since he'd given in to almost every single demand she'd thrown, she could let him go barefoot.
He had always been, was currently, and always would be on her side, and he'd give her the moon if he could pluck it from the sky, of that she was sure.
...
Music wafted from the speakers, a classical tune he wasn't familiar with, and he remembered her vehemently refusing to use Pachabel's Canon in D, whatever that was. Whatever this was, he assumed it wasn't that. People stopped milling and took their seats, the officiant stepping forward with a soft smile and bright hazel eyes, the cream-colored blazer neutral over her top and laying flat over pleated and matching cream-colored dress pants. They'd decided on a non-religious ceremony, neither of them even sure where they were on the spectrum of religion after everything they'd experienced.
Michael Vaughn had seen Sydney Bristow in many disguises, some real and others pretend.
Scientist. Waitress. Wounded daughter. Lady of the night. Commando. Worried friend. Showgirl. Cat burglar. Frazzled double agent. Superhero. Track runner. Student. Victim. Lover. Wife.
Everything he'd known was erased the moment she walked into the warm night air with the glow of dusk bathing the world in fiery shades of gold. Everyone and everything else faded away and she was all there was - the single most beautiful disguise not a disguise at all. Her eyes instantly found his, and he saw the small uptick of her lips and knew that his matched.
'This is why guys do this,' he thought as Jack led her closer. The last month had been fraught with arguing, worry, nervous bouts of getting sick, and all without the comfort of many different kinds of her favorite foods, wine, or coffee. Not that he hadn't had plenty of all for the both of them.
'It was all completely worth it.'
"Not bad," Weiss whispered and pulled him from his reverie, Vaughn expecting to see the typical jest in his eyes, but spotted only an honest sheen of tears and pride.
"Yeah," he responded quietly, looking back and following her with a loving green gaze until she was standing next to Francie, the friend taking the bouquet and mouthing "love you" through tear-stained cheeks.
And then...she was right there. He held out his hand, her fingers looping through his and shooting electricity from the light touch straight through his heart to his stomach.
...
"Because you have a photographic memory, I assume that yours are memorized, but-" gesturing with the small note card he pulled out of his pocket gained him a few laughs from the audience.
The ambient light was shifting from natural to synthetic as the sunset weakened further into dusk, darkness seeping west across the sky above them. Nervous adrenaline shot through his veins quickening his heartbeat, and he found himself pausing for a moment to swallow and take a breath. Switching from the scrawled writing on the notecard to the shining warmth in Sydney's eyes, he crumpled it in his palm deciding instead to try and articulate what his overflowing heart was feeling.
"I don't remember the first time I met you." Her brow crinkled in a confused frown, the first of the evening.
"I was three, and you were a new baby that showed up at my house." Looking to his left, he met first Jack's smiling eyes and then his mother's. "Jack and...Laura would babysit now and again, and after you were born my parents did the same. I don't remember it, though," he said looking back to her.
"But...I...I really wish I could because that had to have been the first time I fell in love with you."
Michael paused for a moment, the nerves trying to make him regret abandoning his plan.
'Always be prepared,' the Boy Scout mantra rolled through his head. 'Tell her how deep your love goes.'
Green held brown captive.
"Sometimes I wake up before you do, and I watch you sleep. And I'm...overwhelmed because you're so amazing," he paused as a wash of tears curtain her stare, "and I don't know why I'm lucky enough to have you in my life."
"You're here with me, despite everything, and," his vision blurred and voice became watery, "I've always loved you. Know that I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you make me."
…
Francie stepped up with a tissue in her hand, Sydney chuckling through the tears and taking it to blot just under her eyes in an effort to not smudge her makeup.
"Why did I not go first," she whimpered, making those that heard her honest admission laugh quietly.
Biting at her upper lip trying to get her emotions in check she looked back to the man she'd utterly fallen for standing before her in a fine suit and looking at her like she was the center of the universe. She felt the words she'd prepared and indeed memorized slip away, and while not understanding how he could possibly crumple his speech and wing it, that all now made sense.
Both had started their journey comfortable and warm and swaddled within the protection of stability, each having that stripped away piece by piece until they yearned for something more - to be a part of something more. For both that was the C.I.A. but only for one was that the truth. Their parallel journeys spiraled like a helix, twisting and turning with one side just out of reach of the other until lightning struck.
"You are the one person that I've trusted with everything. And not just today, or...or last week, since the very beginning. You told me that you had an instinct, and for a long time I didn't know what that meant."
Her fingers played with the tissue absently as she spoke, her gaze locked with his.
"I can honestly say I've never felt connected to the soul with someone before you, and it terrified me at first. That level of trust wasn't something I knew I could give or that anyone could earn."
A bright smile hit her cheeks as she wiped at an errant tear. "I wouldn't just let everyone break into the Vatican with me," she laughed, Michael joining.
"I've loved you since the moment you held my hand on the pier," she said with honesty written across her face. "You're the first person I want to see in the morning and the last I want to see in the evening, and I can't wait to do that every...single...day."
…
"How's your stomach?"
Michael's voice was quiet in her ear, his mouth close as the pair swayed to the music. He always assumed that the 'first dance' would be awkward, and the fact that everyone was standing and staring with googly eyes and dumb grins on their faces should be making him feel uncomfortable.
Instead, he didn't care. As he rocked on his feet with her hand tucked in his over his heart and her temple pressed against his cheek, their eyes closed as he inhaled the floral perfume of her hair.
"I'm fine," she whispered.
"Did you have anything to eat?"
She chuckled and squeezed his bicep with the hand resting over his arm, "Michael, stop worrying and just enjoy the moment."
He grinned and shook his head, which she felt against her own, so she nodded in response. Knowing he wouldn't let it go, "I've been drinking water and as long as you don't spin or dip me, we'll be fine."
"We should think of baby names."
His abrupt change of subject brought a bright smile to her face, any onlookers knowing only that he'd said something by her reaction but not knowing the subject. The proximity of their mouths to their ears was perfect for the secret conversation.
"Yeah?"
Excitement grew up from her stomach to flower around her heart, and she felt the pad of his thumb rub the back of her knuckles.
"Doloris," he suggested with a smirk, and she scoffed in his ear.
"Is she going to be born eighty years old?" Pausing for a few beats, "How about Clementine?"
Michael grimaced behind the upturned lips, his eyes staying closed, "that's a fruit."
"It's also a name," she countered.
"Bessy."
"Like...a milking cow?"
"Flora," she giggled.
"Ooh, and then we could name the second, Fauna."
The ugly sound she made in his ear was accompanied by a flutter in her heart. "We haven't even had the first yet and you're already planning a second?"
He laughed, tilting his head down to press a kiss to the top of her shoulder. "Agatha."
"I am a literature major," she started, Vaughn cutting her off.
"Yeesh, I was kidding. Honestly, I was mostly looking at boy names before we found out, so I'm bad with girl names."
Intending for his excuse to be light and flighty since he wasn't able to think of any other terrible ideas, it didn't seem to land the right way, and Sydney frowned. "You're not...bummed we're having a girl, are you?"
His eyes flew open and he back-tracked with panic written on his face. "No, that...I was just kidding," he stuttered.
"You're sure?"
"A copy of you running around? Absolutely," he grinned and pulled his head back to let her see the relieved smile on his face. "What about Isabelle? I'm...being serious now."
The song began to wind down, but the dimpled smile came back to her face. "Isabelle? Now that's pretty."
He winked and leaned in to press a soft kiss to her lips, the song fading away.
...
The champagne tickled his tongue as he sipped, swirled, and swallowed the bubbly liquid, his eyes sweeping the waves as they washed over the sand. Above them shone an endless sea of stars spreading forever toward the horizon and beyond, their dancing brilliance brighter here than in the city. The Milky Way trekked across the sky, an imperfect replica shimmering in the waters below.
"You're gonna get bored out here," Weiss slurred from his left, and Vaughn rolled his eyes.
"How?"
Sitting up as best he could and gesturing wildly around at the scrolling sandy beach and not another house for miles, he was assuming Vaughn didn't think it was perfect.
"You've...seen my wife, right?" Chuckling at his own joke, "I'm never gonna get bored out here."
"I'm sitting right here," her reminder dripping with sarcasm from the seat to his right, Will and Francie laughing together.
"I'd apologize for him, but I still think it's cute," Jamie giggled, Eric mumbling something mostly incoherent as his eyes slipped closed. "Alright, I'd better get him back to the city. Come on, you. Say your goodbyes."
Getting Weiss to his feet, he slipped his arm around her shoulders as she took the beer from his hand. "Happy birthday, Mike."
"Thanks, buddy. Drink some water, okay? Let your nurse girlfriend keep you alive."
The couples slipped into silence, though simultaneous sighs hit the open air making them all smile.
"We're the last ones here," Francie said with a grunt as she sat up, pulling Will with her. "We'll get outta your hair. I'll come back tomorrow to help clean up and grab the catering stuff, just leave it all in the kitchen. Your mom already stocked the fridge there and the garage with leftovers, so you probably won't starve."
"Fran, thank you so much. For everything," Sydney said behind a bubble of emotion, standing and wrapping her arms around her best friend in a tight hug.
"If you cry, it makes me cry. So don't! I'm out of tissues," the ebony woman ordered, Will pulling them apart before wrapping his arms around Sydney.
"These emotions are too much, I can't handle it. We'll lock the door and gate on our way out. Promise."
He pressed a kiss to Sydney's forehead and patted Vaughn on the shoulder, the groom staying put in the comfortably-padded chaise. Seeing the lights turn off as the pair left, and hearing the beep of the alarm system echoing through the patio door from the empty living room, Sydney looked down at her husband as he sipped his champagne, green twinkling eyes reflecting the stars back up at her.
Holding out her hand and beckoning him up, he smiled and quickly swallowed the rest before accepting and standing. Setting the fluted glass on the arm of the chair he walked her forward, lifting her hand up over her head and slowly spinning her, his invitation to dance in the moonlight.
Sydney wanted to deny his request as fatigue clawed at her bones, but the shining love she saw in his eyes pulled her into his arms, set her head to his shoulder, and tucked her nose against his throat. Wrapping her arms over his shoulders, she hooked one behind his head to clutch at the opposite side as her other hand played with the hairs at the nape of his neck; his slid warm lines down her back before folding together to rest just above the rise of her backside. His feet rocked them back and forth to a slow melody only he could hear, though the song of the waves wafted around them accompanied by cool, salty sea air.
"Thank you for today," she whispered.
Michael's response was to tighten around her for a moment before loosening his grip, the corners of his mouth tilting as he kept his silence while they swayed in the sand.
"If I could bottle for later how you looked at me all evening, I would do it in a heartbeat so I could have that every day."
Vaughn tilted his head back to catch her sleepy brown eyes and the soft smile on her lips, one hand coming up to cup her cheek as the other pulled her farther into his embrace. Brushing the pad of his thumb over the freckles he knew were there but couldn't see in the moonlight, he leaned in.
His kiss was a slow exploration of her lips, sensual in the softest way. She could taste the champagne he'd just finished, the only taste that evening she'd had, and a contented sigh left her chest. Drinking the peacefulness she exuded, he pulled from her mouth and leaned in to gently ghost his lips along her jaw and then throat, ending at the juncture of her shoulder and neck.
Releasing her slowly to make sure her feet were steady, he slid his hands down her arms and looped his fingers through hers before turning and leading her back into the house. If she was half as tired as he was, she was exhausted and ready to climb into bed, wedding night or not.
Having said that, if she wanted more he would absolutely stay up with her. The air of the bedroom was stuffy, Michael throwing open the bay doors to let in the breeze rolling off the ocean before turning back to memorize everything about her one last time.
"That look; right there," she smiled.
"I'm pretty sure this is how I normally look at you," he slowly headed toward her.
She shook her head lightly, the loose, wavy brown curls tickling her shoulders, "it feels different...has all night."
Michael smiled and stopped inches from her, his temple leaning against the side of her head before delicately brushing the tips of his fingers against her forearms. "Different how?" His words were a soft breath against her ear and sent a shiver across her skin from head to toe.
"Just...more," she whispered, her hands coming up to dance her fingers up over the taut fabric of the white button-up that was still tucked into the top of his trousers. Feeling his lips press a kiss to the top of her ear, she slowly worked her way back down to the belt one shirt button at a time. Leaving it to hang open, she slid her hands inside to caress his warm skin.
Stepping away he moved around behind her. The loose tendrils left out of the hairdo hair tickled his nose and cheeks as he pressed a series of kisses against the back of her shoulder toward the base of her neck, his fingers tracing her spine until he came to the top button at the middle of her back.
Sydney felt the dress loosen around her shoulders and chest as he slowly released each clasp. His warm lips followed the path as it was created, and each moment his mouth touched her skin it blazed a trail down her spine, around and into her surprisingly settled stomach, and deep into her center. She brought her arms up to pull at the half-dozen pins holding her hair in place at the top of her head, the curls dropping in a bundle between her shoulder blades.
Vaughn's hands were up in an instant, his fingers delving into the chocolate tresses to massage her scalp and pull a relaxed sign from her lips. She leaned back against him, the skin between her open dress and his open shirt meeting in the middle as he felt the tension in the back of her neck begin to recede.
"If you're too tired, we-"
"Don't finish that sentence," she gave a quiet sultry order. "I could be ready to drop dead and still have time."
His gravelly chuckle fanned a rush of hot air against her neck as one hand continued the massage while the other hooked the strap of her loose dress at the shoulder, his mouth following as he slid it off to dangle with a tickle against her upper arm. Switching and doing the same to the opposite side, he let her go to a disgruntled hum and stepped back to pinch the edge of the fabric and slide it over her hips.
Gravity took over and she felt the soft material pool against the backs of her calves, and she both felt and heard the sudden intake of breath he pulled between his teeth as his eyes settled on the white lace panties, the mid-thigh garter, and the fact that the bra was built into the dress itself leaving nothing else over her figure. The cool air from the open doors fluttered the curtains and pebbled her nipples, though his hands pulling her back into his frame and swirling patterns over her hips and around to the front of her thighs would have done the same without the draft.
Moving aside her hair with his nose he kissed his way from the top of her shoulder to her neck as she tilted her head to give him access, and the moment his hand cupped her breast and his thumb brushed the sensitive bud she loosed an airy moan into the quiet of the bedroom, the distant sound of waves crashing and wind rustling through the palms echoing back.
Wrapping his arms around her middle with one under her breasts and the other over their nestled child, he pulled her flush and set his chin to her shoulder. Sydney brought up her hand to cup his cheek as they dove into the familiar sea of intimacy. Gradually the world fell away and their eyes slipped closed, and the only things in existence were the feel, taste, touch, and scent of one another.
The feel of smooth skin, hers soft over lithe while his stretched over bulkier muscles.
The taste of her perfumed skin and the hint of champagne still clinging to his tongue.
The touch setting a thousand nerve endings alight.
The scent of floral and masculine perfume and cologne mingling delightfully together, both unique and comforting.
He would have stayed adrift forever, but she moved first. Turning slowly in his embrace, his arms loosening but not letting go, she faced him and looked up making the ends of her hair tickle his arm. Pulling the bottom of the shirt out from the waistband, both pointer fingers traced the open edge of each side from his belly button up to his shoulders, her slow trek making each muscle jump with the light touch.
Slipping the shirt from one side, her mouth traced his collarbone up to the top of the muscled shoulder until the cotton slid off. Dragging her lips to the opposite side, her tongue dipping into the dimple between his collarbones on her journey, the shirt came loose and he shrugged it to the floor behind him.
Moving to the center of his chest, she placed a soft kiss over his heart, the thudding beneath her lips quickening as her hands trailed back down to his waist to his belt. Moving up, she prompted a grumbling vibration against her lips as she set them to his throat, the apple bobbing beneath her exploration as he swallowed and closed his eyes.
The pants dropped to the top of his feet, the straining bulge tenting the fabric of his boxers as she pressed her palm against him through the silk. His hands itched to touch her, and he wasn't sure why he was keeping them at bay. This realization made him bring up his palms to cup both sides of her face, tilting it up to his as his mouth smothered hers. Their tongues swept together stilling her hand at his flesh and catching the breath in her chest as his intensity.
The pressure of his mouth was equal parts sensual softness mixed with ardent need, and she felt her fingers hooking the hem of the silk to push the boxers down his hips. The fabric ghosted against her thighs, Vaughn kicking them aside as he walked backward still gently clutching her face until his lips smacked apart from hers. As the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed he stopped, his hands coming to her hips putting the lace of the panties against his palms. Tilting back he fell to the mattress and pulled her above him, her knees landing on either side of his hips as his hardness came into contact with her covered core.
Using the momentum, her pouted lips slanted back over his as a curtain of umber tresses fell around them. Their tongues dueled as one hand slid up over her back to trace the lines of her arching spine and the edge of her shoulder blades as she propped herself over him. His fingers dove back into her hair pushing it to one side as his other hand moved from her hip to her backside to splay against the globe of the cheek before squeezing and pressing her more firmly against his desire.
Pulling away she sat up and looked down at him with sparkling eyes, and he swept his gaze from her sparkling eyes to the lace-covered juncture of her legs. In the dim light he could see the purple-hue was deep around each iris, and the pink flush to her cheeks coupled with her pouted, parted lips made him want to kiss her for a thousand years. His left hand slid from her hip to mid-thigh and traced the silky edge of the garter.
"There's that look again," she said softly, her palms against his chest.
His face softened and he nodded. "You're the most precious thing in the world to me. You know that, right?" She felt the hand clutching her hip loosen its grip as his thumb stretched out to rub up and down over the small swell below her stomach.
"Yeah," she responded with an exhale, "that's what that look says."
Vaughn sat up, the hand at her hip circling around to the small of her back to hold her close as he slid their tangled bodies to the center of the large bed. She unfurled her limbs, wrapping them over his hips as he sat nearly cross-legged with her backside resting in the center of his thighs. Tipping her slightly, her right arm reached back to catch and hold her weight while the other looped around the back of his neck as he sat upright with her.
While his mouth and tongue went back to exploring her throat, his free hand moved between them and slid behind the fabric over her mound, the small strip of trimmed hair tickling his palm. The arm behind his neck tightened as his fingers cupped her warmth before his ring and middle dipped into her wet folds, a groan crawling up from his chest vibrating against her neck. The tips of his fingers flicked up, the angle awkward and not allowing him full flexibility or access, but he found the bundle of nerves at the top and smiled as she arched against him and tossed her head back, her weight pressing against the flat palm behind her on the bedspread.
Removing his hand, much to her chagrin, he gripped the side of the panties at her hip between his fingers, the other hand joining, and a small popping of the threads was all she heard before feeling it fall away. Doing the same on the other side, Sydney appreciated the moment his arm circled back around to spread his hand against the small of her back and take some of her weight, and she could feel the muscles in his back tighten under her arm.
His free hand moved between their bodies and gripped his shaft to angle himself down. The blunt head slid over her button prompting a hmm from the back of her throat, and together with his hand at her back pulling and hers against the bed pushing, he slid her slowly over him to sink into the velvet heat of her channel. Dropping his head to her throat, nips and licks showering the spot where she'd dabbed on her perfume, he loosened his grip and let her slide away from him, her hand stopping the retreat before he pulled her back in and around his hardness.
Repeating the slow thrusts, with him pulling her back and forth between his folded legs to meet him at this new angle, he could feel the muscles in the middle of his back and his stomach begin to tighten. Though he didn't know how long he could go sitting upright with her wrapped around him, he had no intention of changing position any time soon.
Sydney was on cloud nine. His mouth was now moving down, and she loosened her arm around his neck further lean back on the weight-bearing arm behind her, thankful it wasn't her left. She didn't have enough faith that it wouldn't buckle, the muscles and joints permanently damaged from the hours spent dislocated and broken. Most of the time it didn't bother her, she hadn't really needed to worry about it, but she was thankful she'd chosen wisely tonight, even though it was pure instinct.
Her fingernails dug until his shoulder as his lips encircled her nipple, tongue petting it from within the hot confines of his mouth. The sounds from her throat spurred him on as he showered one side with rapt attention before switching to the other, all the while as their bodies continued to pull her back and forth over him.
With every slow, in and out slide inside, he grazed her G-spot before pulling her as close as she could go causing her clit to rub against the taut muscle of his lower stomach. It wasn't going to take very long for her to come, of that, they both knew, but when did it? He had it down to a science that each time was as many as he could tease out.
Sydney began to recognize through the passion-induced daze that his voice had gone gravelly against her neck and shoulder, and she could feel his toes beginning to curl from where his legs were wrapped around behind her. He was just as close as she was. As his other hand made its way to her hips to push and pull her over and around him, she brought her right arm up to wrap around his shoulders and clutch at his back, content to cling to him and let the slow pace build up the pressure boiling in her lower stomach.
His mouth sucked a wet kiss to her swallowing throat, groaning as her walls began to tighten around him. Her back slowly arched as she neared her climax and he could feel the muscles of her legs stiffen and cling around his lower back. The shuddering pants pulling raggedly from between her pouted lips were the precursors as her orgasm crashed through her body, the squeeze of her channel pulling his own out in hot spurts as he groaned into her neck, flyaway strands of her hair caressing his face before sticking to his forehead and cheeks. He idly rocked into her a few last times, his muscles taking over in an effort to prolong the pleasure, and as soon as the euphoria that had his body and soul entranced began to recede, heavy weights on his limbs reminded him how tired he was.
Sliding his hands up from her backside to her waist, he straightened his legs and pushed her forward to lie on her back, miraculously against the pillows at the top of the bed. He was still nestled within her as her legs had yet to loosen around his hips, and her face was a mask of blissful contentment as she flopped her arms over his legs, each still straddled the sides of her body.
Tracing the muscled lines of her thigh, his hand found the garter. Lifting at her knee and folding it up against her body, he slid the elastic lace down her calf and off, tossing it somewhere behind him. He could see her beginning to slip away as sleep knocked at the door, and though it caused him to pull from her warmth, he moved up to his knees to lean over, claim her lips, and glide back home.
Sydney loosed a purring hum, her legs instinctively hooking around his thighs to pull him close as her tongue gently swept across his lower lip when he pulled away.
"Sorry," he whispered, prompting a frown. "I wasn't done being inside you." Turning, he buried his nose against her throat peppering small kisses against her scented skin, his fatigued arms shaking a bit as he held himself up.
Her hands rubbed soothing circles over his back, the sweat cooling in the chill of the air conditioning and the still-rolling breeze coming off the ocean outside. "That's never something you have to apologize for," she assured as she tugged him down, wrapping around him and sighing against his shoulder.
She didn't recall falling asleep, though the sensation that she was flying cracked her eyes and she found that he'd lifted her up to tug the blankets back before tucking her into his arms as his hand reclaimed its usual spot over the small lump of her stomach. His breathing instantly shifted with a soft snore against the back of her neck, her hair tickling his nose, and though she tried to stay in the moment and not the day end, her eyes closed and everything slipped away.
…
