Page 19 of Braden

“Big day ahead.” She studied him, noting the way his morning wood tented the sheet. “Speaking of hard…” Yanking the sheet away she captured his rigid shaft in her hand and gave it a hard stroke up and down before licking away the salty drop of precum at the tip. She took him into her mouth and swirled her tongue over the head, enjoying the way Braden responded to her boldness. Humming, she took him deep and he threaded his fingers into her hair, careful not to exert too much pressure as she worked him.

Abruptly he pulled her away from her self appointed task, which she’d been enjoying immensely and rolled her onto her back, coming over her with his cock nestled into the vee of her thighs. “A little pre wedding celebration?” he asked in a teasing tone, rubbing the tip of his cock over her slick folds as she parted her thighs for him.

“It’s not our wedding,” she said with a giggle. “Nothing to hold us back.”

For answer Braden thrust deep inside and bottomed out as she gasped in pleasure and held onto him. Elodie tightened herself around his amazing girth and Braden grunted in approval. When she relaxed her inner core, he immediately moved, pulling back nearly all the way and then driving forward with passion. She shifted underneath him, trying to get to the perfect angle and when she found it his efforts became even more forceful. Elodie clung to him, enjoying the power of Braden’s lovemaking. They could do soft but there was a thrill to this kind of raw sex, a sense of claiming and she was every bit as eager for it as he was.

Her orgasm exploded over her, sending ripples through her entire body and she screamed his name as she tried greedily to capture and hold the sensations. Braden went rigid as his own release hit, unable to resist the way her body was milking his cock and the world narrowed to just the two of them and the way they were connected in ecstasy.

Eventually Braden collapsed on top of her, not allowing all of his weight to crush her but the embrace was comforting, as if he was shielding her from the world. Elodie lay still, listening to their hearts beating in unison and smiled. “I love you,” she said, tracing one of his tattoos with her fingertip.

He raised his head and looked her in the eyes. “I love you too.”

“Is it too much too fast to be real?” She worried.

“This is as real as it gets, I promise you. When an Ardannan finds his woman there’s no doubt at all. If you need more convincing, I can⁠—”

“I have to be able to walk gracefully today,” she said with a giggle. “In my color coordinated spike heels.”

“Did I tell you the hotel delivered my dress uniform last night?”

“Ooh, I can’t wait to see you in it. A man in uniform is always so damn handsome.”

“A man in uniform? Really, babe?”

She punched his shoulder, which had literally no effect on Braden. “You, all right? Only you, ever.”

* * *

Elodie had to report to the communal bridesmaids’ dressing room at eleven. Braden brought his dress uniform in its bag and went upstairs to her old room to change.

The dressing room was controlled chaos. Each female member of the wedding party had their own station, where their dress and shoes awaited. There were several makeup teams. Migs was in her element directing the activity as her assistants bustled here and there on last minute errands. Tamarind made an appearance in the room, which was dutifully filmed by the documentary team, being careful not to catch anyone in a state of undress.

Twilka the designer swept in. She’d condescended to attend the wedding and oversee the process of the women getting dressed and had brought a two person team to make any last minute adjustments required. Elodie watched the Sectors-famous woman with awe as she chatted with Tamarind, Migs standing by respectfully and then moved to the maid of honor’s station. Twilka was one of the most famous survivors of the worst spaceship disaster in the galaxy’s history, the wreck of the Nebula Dream on her maiden voyage. She’d been a Socialite before the wreck but afterward capitalized on her fame and became an influencer, a sought after designer, a sometime actress and the wife of an ex-D’nvannae Brother. Elodie hoped he was here too as one rarely encountered a member of the brotherhood in real life outside of adventure trideos. They were deadly assassins and infallible bodyguards depending on the contract and the whim of their goddess. Twilka’s husband had defied the goddess and left the order to save her. It was all very romantic and nearly unbelievable but the woman was here, in the same room as Elodie.

When it was her turn to stand under the designer’s scrutiny, she was nervous and nearly tongue tied. “This must be like one of your fashion shows,” she blurted out, waving at the bridesmaids being primped and fussed over in their elegant Twilka gowns.

Twilka studied the room for a moment before turning back to Elodie. “Yes, which is why I’m so glad you’re here. You’re the real one in the room, a genuine friend of the bride, here to help her celebrate her day and not for any other reason. Designing your dress was my pleasure.”

Speechless, Elodie blushed. She tugged at her skirt a bit. “I know I don’t fit into mine the way the others do⁠—”

The designer caught her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You fit my dress—your dress—exactly the way it was intended. I designed this to accentuate the many positives about your figure, which is quite divine, by the way. You’re fun to design for.”

“It does feel better on my body than anything I’ve ever owned before,” Elodie admitted. ”Such an honor to be dressed by you.”

“The honor was mine.” Twilka leaned closer, lowered her voice and winked. “And the commission for dressing the entire wedding party was nothing to sneeze at either. A girl’s gotta keep up her standard of living after all.” She walked away, leaving Elodie blinking and feeling a little windblown. Twilka was quite a breath of fresh air but larger than life.

After her makeup and hair were done to Migs’s satisfaction and she’d been left alone again. Elodie searched in her purse for the special item she’d brought and debated whether she was brave enough to go through with her original plan. She was afraid she’d be laughed at by the other bridesmaids and couldn’t predict what Tamarind was going to say. Making a fist around her small offering she gathered up her skirts in the other hand and made her way through the crowd and the mess to enter the bride’s room.

Tears came to her eyes as she saw Tamarind in the ethereal wedding dress. She looked absolutely stunning because of course she did—Tam elevated anything she put on, much less a custom designed Twilka original.

“Can I have a minute?” Elodie asked, forcing herself to hold her ground as Migs frowned at her and the documentary holo team jostled for position.

“Of course you can.” Tamarind gestured for her to come closer and they hugged gingerly so as not to crinkle either dress.

“I brought you something for your dress,” Elodie said in a rush. She held out her hand and opened her fingers to reveal a small, battered enamel pin. “It’s from our elementary school drama club, remember? That’s where we met.” She was surprised by the puzzled faces of Migs and her team. They did weddings for a living and had never heard of this? “It’s the something old, for you to wear today. You know, something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. It’s a good luck poem from old Terra for brides.”

“Ohhh, superstition. I get it,” said one of the assistants in a perky tone, obviously amused.