| Chapter 9

Surrounded by piles of bridal photos and magazines, you sat at the dining room table, completely overwhelmed. You’d been looking at gowns of all styles, shapes, and colors for hours – mermaid and A-line, ivory and blush; there were simply too many options. This was usually when Thomas would swoop in, remarking how much he liked one of the options, and the decision was made. But you wanted the dress to be a surprise.

“Because this is the last wedding gown I’m ever going to wear, Mr. Hiddleston,” you said to the empty room. Suddenly remembering you had a lunch date with your

fiancé, you looked down at your diamond encrusted watch to see that you were late. “Oh, shit.”

You dumped a few magazines into your oversized bag, slipping into a pair of matching Louboutin pumps. Heading out the door, you sent a text to Thomas as the elevator carried you downstairs.

{On my way!! Distracted by a pile of gowns.}

{I’m sure whatever you choose will look lovely on the floor of our honeymoon suite.}

You arrived at Thomas’s office, strutting through the door. As soon as you realized the reception area was completely empty, an idea occurred to you. You unbuttoned your silk top, baring your black lace bra. With your hand on the doorknob, you took a deep breath in as you pushed the door wide open, striking a pose in the door frame.

“Hello, lover.”

It was only then that you noticed Thomas’s assistant sitting across the desk from him, getting redder by the second. You rushed to close your top as Thomas tried to hide his laughter.

“Are you speaking to me or Miss Trevor?” he spoke between giggles.

“Thomas, really!” you said as his assistant tried to squeeze past you in the doorway, desperate to leave the room. “Please don’t go. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, really! We were finished,” she said, closing the door in a hurry.

You turn to Thomas, whose head was still in his hands, trying to hide his laughter. “It’s not funny!”

“On the contrary, my love. You always make an impression,” he said, finally composing himself enough to stand and pull out a chair for you. “Actually, it was probably good that this happened.”

You couldn’t possibly fathom how anything even remotely positive could come from your own embarrassment. “Care to explain?”

“Well, Clara has always been a bit frightened of you.” A puzzled look fell over your face. “My assistant…” Thomas added. “You’ve been here how many times and you don’t even know her name?”

“Well! She’s so quiet. She practically runs away every time I’m here,” you said, motioning to what just happened in the doorway.

“Maybe she didn’t like your bra,” Thomas teased. “You know, she could probably help us out with some wedding planning. She’s truly remarkable when it comes to research. I could tell her what we’re looking for in a venue, and she could find it within the hour.”

“Really?” Your interest was piqued. Everything had been going to smoothly until you and Thomas started looking for a venue. It didn’t help that you weren’t exactly sure what you even wanted. “Do you think she would?”

“I don’t see why not. You don’t want to hire a wedding planner, so maybe this could be a solution. Just a little help when necessary.”

“I told you, Thomas, I’m not handing our day over to anyone. It’s what I’ve always done in the past, but I want to be more involved this time.” You weren’t a superstitious woman, but if three weddings coordinated by event planners had ended in divorce, you were willing to do the work yourself if it meant you and Thomas could live happily ever after. “I have to admit, I could use the help, though.”

“Why don’t you go to lunch together? I have some briefings to catch up on before my appointments this afternoon anyway. Get to know each other, talk about the wedding, see how it goes,” he said, reaching into his wallet.

“But I was looking forward to lunch with you,” you said, taking the credit card from Thomas’s grasp as you sat down on his lap. You took his curls between your fingers, expressing your displeasure with a firm tug.

“You better go before I have you right here on my desk,” said Thomas.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered into his ear before setting off for the door. Looking back, you saw Thomas licking his lips, watching your every move. You strolled to the door, swaying your hips along the way. With a wink and a kiss, you were gone.

You sat on your balcony, sipping a glass of merlot as you waited for Thomas to come home. You knew when you left that you’d be in for an interesting night – you had seen that look in his eyes only once before. It had been the start of your longest, most passionate sex to date. Just thinking about it got your heart racing.

{There in 5. Wait for me in the bedroom.}

You tipped your wine glass back as you walked into the apartment. You left the empty glass on the dining room table and undressed, leaving a trail of clothes all the way to the bed. You sat stark naked on the bed as you heard Thomas’s keys in the door. After what felt like an eternity, Thomas sauntered into the bedroom, a glass of ice water in his hand. He placed it on the nightstand before he finally spoke.

“Would you like to try something new tonight?” he asked.

“Of course,” you replied. In the time you’ve been together, Thomas has introduced you to a great number of things you’d never tried before. Indian food. Ice skating. Vibrating panties. The look in his eyes told you this was not the night to be timid.

Never breaking eye contact, Thomas slowly undid his tie. The room was silent save for the faint sound of fabric sliding against itself. Finally, he yanked the tie from around his collar, sending a whipping sound through the air, giving you goosebumps.

“Cover your eyes,” Thomas said, tossing the tie onto your lap. You pick it up, turning over in your hands as you contemplated complying. You could say no. Toss it onto the floor and let him spank you a few times for refusing. You always enjoyed that. What would happen if you put on the blindfold, you didn’t know – but you wanted to.

Carefully, you tie the fabric around your head, knotting it tightly in the back. You listened closely for any clues as to what would come next.

“Lie on your back,” he instructed. You leaned back on your elbows, scooting yourself to the center of the bed. You lay on your back, perfectly still, unsure of what to expect next. Just then, you felt Thomas brush his hand against your thigh. He gently massaged every muscle in each of your legs, the stress of the day slowly melting away. Finally, to your relief, his fingers slipped between your thighs.

“Spread your legs,” said Thomas in a low growl. You did as you were told, sliding your heels across the satin sheets. “Bend your knees. I want to see all of you.”

Your damp skin was cold as your lips spread apart. There was no hiding your desire any longer. Unable to see anything but darkness, your other senses were hyper-aware. The cold air breezing across your center, the subtle scent of Thomas’s cologne, the soft padding of his footsteps to the nightstand to take a drink. Your breath clutched in your chest as you heard him climb onto the bed. You felt the weight of his body pressing into the mattress, yet not so much as a single breath on your skin.

His arms wrap around your thighs as he settles in on his elbows. It took you a moment to comprehend what happened next – a freezing cold surface passed over your labia, sending ice through your veins. Thomas let the cube slide from between his lips onto the top of your mound. You try to wiggle it away, but Thomas was holding you perfectly still. Droplets melted from your warmth, sliding into the folds of your center. That’s when he started to blow – as if the ice-cold water wasn’t chilling enough on its own. Your pearl tingled; your legs quivered.

“Thomas…” you gasped.

His long tongue flickered over your center before replying. “Yes?”

“I’m going to get you back for this,” you said.

“I’m counting on it.” Your words were like fuel on his fire. His appetite was ravenous; he lapped up your desire, savoring the sweet juices. He squeezed tight on your curves every time you let out a moan, leaving marks wherever he touched. He wanted you to wake up tomorrow knowing exactly who you belonged to.

“Thomas, please…” you begged for your release.
Every time he felt you approaching climax, he stopped. The past hour was absolute torture – and you were loving every minute of it.

“Not now, darling,” he said, pulling the tie from your face. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Thomas got to his knees, unbuttoning his shirt before tossing it to the floor. You watch as he undoes his belt, then the button on his pants. He finally reaches the zipper, his solid erection eager to escape. He tried wriggling out of his trousers, but his anticipation got the better of him.

“Oh, fuck it,” he said as he leaned over your body, pressing himself into you. You gasped for air as if you’d been held underwater, finally free. He filled you, consumed you, made you feel whole. You closed your eyes, letting the pleasure spread through your body – but Thomas took your chin in his hand, directing you to face him straight on.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded. “I want you to look at me while I’m fucking you.”

You did as you were told, not daring to break eye contact for even a moment. He wrapped his arms around your knees, holding you tight as he thrusted hard and slow. You moaned every time he slammed into you, crying out for more as he took his time sliding back out. Then, with a quick jerk of his hips, he’d slam right back in.

Your body writhed with agony. Your hands were everywhere – through your hair, cupping your breasts, tugging on the sheets. Thomas himself was just out of reach, slick with sweat, his curls clinging to his forehead. He looked around, finding the tie he had tossed to the side. He took your wrists into his hands, pinning them above your head as he tied them tightly to the headboard.

“If you want to cum, you’re going to have to earn it.” He kissed your forehead as his pace evened out; he moved to your lips, demanding deep, slow kisses as he swirled his hips into yours. You knew exactly what he wanted; you opened your mouth to him, taking in his warm, slick tongue. You were tempted to bite it, but that was no way to earn your finish.

He kissed longer and deeper as he felt your walls tightening around him. You moaned beneath the pressure of his lips, longing to break free. Finally, your pleasure peaked, your legs shaking against Thomas’s bare, slick torso. He finally pulled away from the kiss, wanting to watch as you come undone – as you screamed his name. You twist and tremble beneath him, warm satisfaction spreading from your curled toes to your limp wrists.

“You’re a very good girl,” Thomas said as he kissed your forehead, still inside you. He released you from the headboard, and not a moment too soon.

“You’re a very bad boy,” you said. You pushed him onto his back, ready to take back your power. Thomas watched as you got to your knees between his legs; you looked directly into his eyes as you took him into your mouth, and this time it was he who didn’t dare look away.

You cover every inch of him, engulfing his length in the warmth of your mouth. A deep, growling moan escaped his throat as he quickly reached the point of no return. His fists closed around the loose sheets, and while you briefly consider denying him his finish, you know he earned it. He always did.

You didn’t leave a trace of his essence behind. You kiss a sweet, slow trail up Thomas’s body, finding your place by his side. You lie next to each other, staring up at the ceiling as your bodies come down from their highs. You looked over at Thomas, watching his chest rise and fall. You glanced further up to see his deep blue eyes staring back at you.

“You’re going to be an incredible wife.”

💖

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Imagine decorating a Christmas tree with your new husband, Tom. It’s your first holiday in London, and he wants to make sure your new house feels like home. He brings you the biggest tree he could find, and the two of you spend all night drinking hot chocolate while you deck the halls with holiday cheer.

Imagine Tom taking care of you during a bout of depression. You’ve been feeling particularly exhausted, with no motivation to even get out of bed. Luckily Tom is there to keep you company, make sure you’re eating, even bringing you flowers from the market to help you feel better. He knows you won’t feel better overnight, but it’s worth it just to make you smile.

Requested by anon ❤

Imagine checking into a hotel to find yourself neighbors with Tom. He’s on a publicity tour for his new movie, and as it happens, you’re doing the same to promote your new novel. You happened to meet one night after you’d had one too many glasses of wine in the hotel bar, and couldn’t get your key card to work – you were trying to use it in Tom’s door instead of your own. Being the charming gentleman that he is, he opened the door to your room for you, making sure you got into bed safe and sound, even inviting you to have brunch with him the following morning.

Requested by @rusty-james13 ❤

Imagine going skinny dipping with Tom. It must be the hottest day of the whole year, and he just can’t take it anymore. He heads towards the backyard, slowly disrobing, leaving a trail of clothes on the floor, luring you to follow. You hurry after him, jumping into the pool wearing nothing but a smile. He swims towards you, embracing you in this thick, slippery arms. As you cling to his body, resting your thighs on top of his, he begins kissing you – soft and slow at first, then deeply and eagerly as you feel his desire growing beneath your thighs. He breaks the kiss only for a moment, to whisper in your ear, “We haven’t done it in the pool yet.”

Imagine having a conversation about your relationship with Tom.
Things have been moving slowly, and it’s been working out well for both
of you – you just aren’t sure he feels as strongly about you as you do
about him. You tell him that you don’t want to fall for him if he isn’t
ready to catch you. Nervous to see his reaction, you look up to see him
with a mischievous little smirk on his face.

“Of course I’ll catch you, my love,” he said, unbuttoning his jacket. “But first you have to run!”

With
a high-pitched squeal you’re off, running through the house with Tom
right on your tail. He catches you just as you reach the top of the
stairs, carrying you to the bedroom to attack you with kisses and
tickles.

Imagine staying up all night with Tom. The two of you spent hour after hour giving into your every desire, exploring and ravishing each other’s bodies. You’re finally ready to give into total exhaustion when the sun peaks over the horizon and into your bedroom. You wrap yourselves up in blankets and pillows, blocking out the sun long enough to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Imagine Tom coming home to find you wearing his shirt – and only his shirt. It’s late in the afternoon, so he expected you to be dressed by now. But you’ve been having a lazy, watch-tv-and-bake-cookies kind of day. You welcome him home with a big hug and a warm, gooey chocolate chip cookie. He then scoops you up, sits you down on the kitchen counter and tells you how lucky he is to have you for his wife.

Blind Side – Chapter 5

Intro | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Moonbeams streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You
stagger over to the drapes and pull them closed, stumbling over the new shoes
you pried off hours ago. It was 3am, and you’d already finished off one bottle
of wine. You sat alone on the sofa, in complete darkness, reading and
re-reading the numerous messages from Thomas.

{What happened?}

{I’m so sorry. For whatever I did.}

{Please, my love. Talk to me.}

The last one came through hours ago. He must have gone to bed. You
open another bottle of wine, taking a gulp straight from the bottle. No need to
waste a glass on this misery. Turning to head towards the couch, you throw your
head back and let the sweet juice flow. Suddenly the room is spinning as you
trip over your feet and stumble to the floor.

“Shit!” you said as you catch yourself on the arm of the chaise.
You set the wine bottle down on the coffee table to pull yourself onto the
cushions, suddenly feeling hot and messy in this dress. Rolling onto your
stomach, you reach back to undo the zipper, wriggling your way out of the mess
of chiffon.

Exhausted by all the struggling, drinking, crying – you pull a
throw pillow under your head, finally succumbing to the lure of sleep.

Slowing coming back into consciousness, your eyes don’t even open
before you feel the consequences of the night before. You can’t decide which is
worse – the overwhelming nausea, or the throbbing headache. If the sound of your
pulse rushing through your ears would quit for just a second, maybe you could
decide.

{Thwomp thwomp thwomp}

You glance over at the door, reality coming into focus.

{Knock knock knock}

Shit,
that’s the door. Who could that be?

“Go away,” you call out, wincing at the loud noise of your own
voice.

“It’s me…”

Your heart dropped. Thomas. You groan as the memories of the night
before come crashing back into your mind.

Oh God. He
must hate me.

“I brought you a bagel. Can I come in?”

You grab the robe from the back of the chair and head for the
door. Ordinarily, you wouldn’t let him see you like this. You wouldn’t let
anyone see you like this. But he deserved an explanation; you at least owed him
that much. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you undo the
lock. Light pours in from the hallway, causing you to squint up at his face,
his icy blue eyes staring right through you.

“Good morning,” he says tentatively.

“Hi,” you said, attempting to smile. You pull the door open wider,
motioning for him to come in.

He sets the paper bag down on the coffee table, concern written
all over his face. He walks back toward the door where you’re standing. The
truth is, you’re using it for support. Thomas has a knack for making you weak
in the knees, but throw a hangover on top of it and you’re not sure how to walk
anymore. He inches closer, but not wanting to crowd your space, he stops a
couple of feet away. He says nothing, but merely holds out a hand for you to
take when you’re ready.

Tears fill your eyes, burning to escape. You take his hand,
letting him lead you over to the couch. He sits down first, reaching out for
you with both arms now. You sit facing him, knees in the back of the sofa,
collapsing onto his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you, holding you as soft
sobs escape your throat. There’s no use holding back now; he’s seen you at your
absolute worst, and here he is trying to make it better, trying to fix the very
situation you brought upon yourself.

“I’m so sorry, Thomas,” you said when your nerves allowed. The
tightness in your chest was loosening, sobs coming fewer and farther between.

“Shhh, it’s all right. It’s all over now,” he said, kissing the
top of your head. You lift your head to
look him in the eyes.

“I was just awful,” you said, wiping the remaining tears from your
eyes. “I don’t know what came over me. You deserve so much better than being
treated like that, Thomas, truly.” He pulls you back into his embrace, holding
you tighter this time.

“You weren’t awful. Perhaps you were just a little nervous?”

Silently, you nod. You couldn’t bear to look at him, it was just
too embarrassing. You’re a grown woman who has had sex before. Plenty of times.
What was so scary about it now?

“I hope it was nothing I did, my love. If it’s too soon, it’s too
soon. I shouldn’t have rushed things.”

“It was nothing you did,” popping your head up in concern. You
turn to face him, clutching his hand between yours as you spoke. “I just… I
don’t know, I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve always kept a safe distance
between myself and the world; I wasn’t sure I could handle letting you in. But
I do want to try.”

“Then try we shall,” Thomas said with a sigh of relief. After a
brief, tight embrace, Thomas looks at you with a playfully stern look on his
face. “But next time, will you please tell me how you feel? So perhaps you don’t
end up feeling like this again?” he said, gently pressing his forehead to
yours.

“I’d like that.”

“Speaking of not feeling well…” he said, reaching for the paper
bag on the table. “You need some food in you, love.”

He pulls out a cinnamon raisin bagel, lightly toasted, followed by
strawberry cream cheese, low fat. He knows you so well. You watch as he walks
into the kitchen for a plate and knife, admiring this man, this wonderful man,
who cares so much for you. He’s the first man you’ve truly loved and, if you
were lucky, he’d be the last.

“Where do you keep the Advil, darling?”

You start to get up, but he insists you take it easy, at least for
today. You point him in the direction of your bathroom, and he’s back within
minutes. He places the medicine and a bottle of water on the coffee table in
front of you.

“You’re going to want to eat before you take these. Is there
anything else you need?”

You shake your head. “Just my Thomas.”

“I’m all yours, sweetheart,” he said, sitting down beside you on
the couch. He puts an arm around you as you both settle in. You spend the rest
of the day relaxing in each other’s arms, ordering take-out between episodes of
your favorite Netflix shows. By late evening, you’re feeling much better –
nothing a good night’s sleep won’t take care of.

Glancing at his watch, Thomas leans in to kiss your cheek.

“I think I must be going soon,” he said, standing to stretch. He
walks towards the coat closet as an idea pops into your head.

“Why don’t you stay?”

He turns, slowly, his hand lingering on the doorknob. “Are you
sure?”

“It’s so late, you don’t have to go all the way home if you don’t
want to. I want you to feel comfortable here…” you said, trailing off.

“I only want to stay if that’s what you want.”

After taking a moment to think about it, you realize there’s
nothing you want more. Biting your lip in utter excitement, you nod your head
in agreement. “It’s all I could ever want, Thomas.”

He tries to hide the smile spreading across his own face, but it’s
no use. Dropping his hand from the door, he makes his way over to you, taking
his place on the sofa.

“How could I say no to this beautiful face?” he asks, stroking
your cheek. “But I want to make one thing very clear.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m a proper gentleman, and I don’t want you to think you can put
the moves on me. I’m not that kind of boy,” he says with a cheeky grin. You
can’t help but erupt into laughter.

“Of course not, Thomas. I’ll try my best.”

With that, he cradles you in his arms and carries you to the
bedroom. You pick out a comfy set of pajamas as he strips down to his boxer
shorts, and you both climb into bed. You lay down on your side as Thomas slips
into bed beside you, pulling the blanket over you both. Surrounded by the warm
embrace of the man you love, he says goodnight. Within mere minutes, you’re
both fast asleep.

Imagine taking a shower with Tom. It’s late in the morning, and you’ve both just woken up from spending a passionate night in each other’s arms. You step into the steamy shower together, and Tom is startled by the stinging sensation on his back – he turns around to reveal scratch marks from his shoulders all the way down to his hips. You giggle a bit and start to apologize, but he stops you; he absolutely relishes the fact that he gave you so much pleasure.

Tag: thiddles

Blind Side – Chapter 9

Blind Side – Chapter 5