Saving The King

Chapter 16 - Out in Public *Smut*

February 1st 1963

It had been week since the wedding and you and Elvis were still on your honeymoon. The last few days had been spent in the hotel room as you and Elvis enjoyed each other. Passionately.

Today was special, you had decided to take a walk with Elvis around the grounds in which you were staying. This would be the first time the paparazzi would get a chance to see you and Elvis since the few photos that were allowed at the wedding. You would be lying if you said you weren't nervous but you didn't have anything to hide, so the nerves were easily pushed aside.

"Are you ready my love?" Elvis' voice came from the other side of the bathroom door. You were getting dressed in a light cream slip with matching dress, white stockings and white flats. you didn't need make-up due to the amount of sunlight you had been getting. The space you shared with Elvis had a private garden that trapped you in the suns rays for most of the day.

"I am indeed, Does this dress look a little tight around my chest, I feel it may be inappropriate." You opened the door ask Elvis but when you looked up after smooth your dress, Elvis was staring at your aforementioned chest. You watched him, as he quickly wet him bottom lip.

"Elvis." You walked towards him and pressed yourself against him. He held you, pulling you close.

"mmm, it looks good little mama." His voice vibrates through your ears down to your core. heating you through.

"Shall we go before you refuse to leave again?" You chuckle, taking Elvis' hand in your own as you lead him to the door. The walk to the patio door was brief and before the door opened you tugged Elvis' hand.

"What if they take pictures of me in this dress and call me horrible names?" You say, smooth your dress for the hundredth time since you left the room.

"Buttercup, you look gorgeous. They can only say good things and besides, who gives a rats ass what they think. Just you listen to me, I'll always tell you how ravishing you look." Elvis cups your face and kisses you lips a little differently than before. The patio door is finally opened and you clutch on to Elvis for dear life. The cameras start clicking as soon you both exit. It's unbelievably overwhelming, but you keep a composed smile on your face and try to pretend that you are alone with Elvis.

You walk past the paparazzi and get to a sheltered area but only sheltered from the beaming sun. Elvis takes a seat and you attempt to sit next to him only for his to slide along the bench and catch you on his knees. You laugh and smile then peak over your shoulder to the cameras still clicking away. At one point that has to stop, right,? They have to run out of film at some point. Your self-consciousness is growing but you take a breath as Elvis kisses your glowing shoulder and look into his eyes.

"You're doing great. Nothing matters besides you and I. Okay?" Elvis plays with the rings on your finger. "This is the most important thing, it's us. Alright? The Presley's" He holds up your hand and kisses your ring finger, smiling with all the muscles in his face.

The time spent outside, walking and sitting was only full of Elvis affirming how well you were doing, and that neither you or Elvis was going to be talking to any of the men with cameras. It was all over and now that you were finally back in the privacy of your room you let our a breath.

Elvis came up in front of you as you were sitting in the edge of bed and started to rub your shoulders, he kissed the top of your head to comfort you. Once you begin to look up your eyes become level with Elvis' groin and the strain that appeared on his trousers.

You let a puff of air and slowly raise you head to look at Elvis' face, he stops rubbing you shoulders and runs his hands down pushing the straps of your dress off the edge, he brings his hands over your chest and pulls the front of your dress down to expose your strangely larger breasts. You suck in a breath as he massages them slowly, his large hands fitting them perfectly and causing your skin to burn.