Her first awards ceremony. Her first awards ceremony with Tom. She looked in the mirror, smoothing the dress over her abdomen. She smiled at the very slight baby bump. They’d tailored the dress with a high waist line to keep their pregnancy private for a little while longer. Heaven knows, she’d had a hell of a time keeping it private since Tom’s last role was announced.
The gauzy fabric fell over the generous swell of her ass and her ample hips. They hoped her on display cleavage and the high waistline would camouflage the bump. She turned this way and that in front of the mirror.
Tom sauntered in with a vodka tonic, sipping it as he looked at his phone. He looked up from under his brows and stopped dead in his tracks she spun in front of the floor length mirror, positively beaming. He knew some of that radiance to be her natural beauty, some of it ‘pregnancy glow’ from their unborn child, and some of it still from her excitement.
He sipped his drink and watched her twirl. The layers of the dress shifted with a life of their own. She noticed him in the mirror and smiled, blushing slightly.
“It’s beautiful, Tom. I love it.”
He crossed the hotel room to her and set the glass and phone down. He cupped her face tenderly in his hands. “You make the dress beautiful.” She scoffed. “Seriously, my darling. Without you, it’s just fabric and thread. On you, it’s the most beautiful dress of the night.” She blushed even more.
“I do kind of feel like a princess.”
He grinned. “Oh my bunny, you’re no princess. You’re a queen. My queen.” He put emphasis on his claiming of her. He kissed her sweetly and carefully so as not to smear her makeup. He then took a step back. “How are you feeling?”
“A bit queasy but I think I’m alright.”
“Nerves or baby?”
“Both?” She laughed.
“I know just the thing that will take your mind off things.”
“This.” He wrapped his arm tighter around her waist and pulled her body flush against his. His lips found her pulse and began to kiss up to her ear then down to her collarbone.
“We shouldn’t.” He hummed in agreement but his hands began to move, touching her body through the dress. As her arousal rose, her nerves vanished. She slipped her palms under his tuxedo jacket. Her nails grazed his ribs through the shirt. He hissed.
“I thought you said ‘we shouldn’t’.” He smiled against the bend where her shoulder met her neck.
“You can’t expect me to stand here and do nothing.”
He bit her shoulder lightly. “Twirl for me, darling.” He let her out of his arms and leaned against the dresser. “Twirl for me.” He lifted the glass to his lips but didn’t drink. He watched her twirl in a circle then twirl back and forth, swishing the skirt like it was an extension of her body.
He knocked back the drink then grabbed her again, walking her backwards to the bed. He had to have her. Now. Something about her twirling got to him. They tumbled to the bed full of exploring hands and hot, eager kisses. He managed to get his hand underneath the layers of the dress to her silky thigh. It traveled up to her hip.
Tom paused. “No knickers, bunny?”
She grinned and shrugged. “I was…hopeful?”
He returned her grin. “Hopeful for what?”
“Celebratory sex in the car on the way home?”
“You think I’ll win?”
“I don’t know. But I want you to. You deserve it.” She hooked her heeled foot around his lean, muscular thigh and lifted her hips off the bed and into his. “Mr. Pine.”
He growled and pressed into her as he claimed her mouth, disregarding her makeup. The knock on the door didn’t separate them. It only frustrated and angered Tom. “Yes?”
The door opened and Luke popped his head in. “Tom, ride’s here. Oh.” Luke’s eyebrow’s shot into his hairline. “Sorry, mate.”
Luke shut the door but the moment was broken. Tom sighed and pushed himself up to stand. He fixed himself in the mirror, taking deep calming breaths to rid himself of the evidence of his desire. He stepped out of the way as she stepped up to the mirror, adjusting her dress. He watched her hips swivel out of the corner of his eye as she settled the dress from where he’d rumpled it.
He pulled her into his arms. “We’ll finish this later.”
“Of course, tiger.” She used her thumb to wipe her lipstick from his lips and around the edges.
Luke knocked again. “We have to go, you two.”
“Go ahead, Tom. I’ll be out in just a minute.” He kissed her nose then left her alone. The queasiness came back full force and she hurried into the bathroom. Ten minutes later, she emerged from the bedroom with touched up makeup and only slightly red rimmed eyes.
“Are you alright, bunny?” He took her hands in his, rubbing her knuckles with his thumbs.
She nodded. “Just all this excitement, nerves and the baby.” He curled her hands around his and brought them both to his lips.
“You can stay here. I’ll understand.”
“Not on your life, Mr. Hiddleston.”
He grinned. “Then let’s go, Mrs. Hiddleston.” Luke kept his exasperated sigh to himself. They were running late. But this was a blessing in disguise. They wouldn’t be able to dawdle on the red carpet and be subject to questions about their recent wedding and the pregnancy rumors that were popping up. She was good at evading, but she had a temper when pressed. And awards ceremonies were not the places for her German-Irish-Scotts-Russian temper to flare up…especially with being pregnant. God knows, he’d had to smooth over at least 3 hormonal outbursts since they’d arrived in LA.
Tom watched her on the red carpet. She twirled for reporters when they asked about her dress. The stunning navy skirt with the glitter looked like the night sky. He knew he’d been caught several times smiling and gazing at her. No doubt the tabloids would talk up their newlywed status. She squeezed his hand as they went through the crowd.
“Thomas, we have to hurry.” She looked at him desperately, fighting a wave of nausea. They joined Hugh and Olivia on the carpet.
“Friends, we need a bathroom. Now.”
“You alright, love?” Olivia eyed her carefully. She shook her head. “Oh right, let’s go then. Come on, boys.” Luke led the way down the carpet, moving away from the reporter gauntlet. After a stop at the bathroom, they took their seats.
Tom held her hand tightly through the ceremony. He won, thanking her in his acceptance speech. He presented an award then returned to her. Her nerves increased as her award came up. Unfortunately, she lost. They only had to make one more trip to the bathroom. The swishing skirt kept distracting him. When the camera wasn’t on them, he rested his hand on her thigh, feeling the fabric. She was very conscious of that hand. And her lack of underwear.
After the ceremony, they moved into the official after party. He watched her twirl her dress for industry friends and those that complimented it. She caught him watching her once then it became a game. She would twirl back and forth until he looked at her then she would stop. When he looked away, she would begin again. After that lost its fun, she would wait until she caught his eye then she would twirl back and forth.
Tom couldn’t pinpoint what exactly about her twirling undid him. Only that it did. Quite effectively and easily. He could take no more. It had grown hard to hide the evidence of its effect on him, especially in the tailored tuxedo trousers. He excused himself and made a beeline for his wife. He looked at her companions. “Would you excuse us?”
Tom wrapped his arm around her waist and held her tight against his body as he hurried them to someplace more private. A room, away from the party. He spun her into the darkened doorway and closed the door behind him. His mouth found hers in the dark and he began to press her up against the wall, thrusting his hips. She slid up and down as she rode his rhythm.
“I want you, my queen.”
“Yes, my king.” He grinned in their devouring kiss. He broke the kiss, pressing his face into her throat. He bit her not too gently as he grabbed both her breasts. She whimpered and arched against the wall, pushing her breasts into his hands.
He growled, moving back to her mouth in a rough, needful kiss. She reached for the zipper of his trousers. He released the button and let them fall to his thighs. He spun her around and fought that blasted gauzy skirt up to her hips. His fingers were rapid but gentle as the tested her, teasing her clit then pumping in and out then teasing her clit again.
“Please what, bunny?”
“Fuck me. Please, Tom.”
He didn’t have to answer her. He stroked his hard cock a time or two before lining up with her entrance. She pushed back as he pushed forward. He leaned forward to bite her shoulder so he wouldn’t make too loud a sound. His hand covered her mouth as she began to moan loudly. Just like he couldn’t explain why the twirling turned him on, she could never explain why his hand over her mouth just sent her off. It was like a rocket in her belly. He wrapped his arm around her torso, above her hard bump of a belly, and pressed his face into the back of her neck.
Their muffled moans and grunts were punctuated with the slap of flesh on flesh. Their bodies fought against each other as he fucked her as hard as she gave. His thighs started to tremble. “Play with your pussy, bunny. I’m so close.” She whimpered behind his hand. She offered him her fingers to suck and suck he did, getting them wet. Those fingers slipped between her folds and rubbed her clit in firm, rapid circles until she was writhing in his grip between his solid body and the wall.
He removed his hand from her mouth. She sucked in a deep, gasping breath, gasping harder as he grabbed her hair. She whined at the flash of pain in the pleasure of his cockhead hitting her sweet spot over and over. Then she was coming again, whining louder. He shushed her but choked off as he came, his stroke slowing then coming to a stop.
They made each other presentable to return to the party. She eyed him from across the room. When he finally turned to the weight of her gaze, she smiled at her groom and swiveled her hips back and forth to make the skirt twirl.