• TOMMY SHELBY IMAGINES •

just a memory

"We took a chance on each other didn't we," I look up into his blue eyes, wondering how a lad like him, ended up with a lady like myself.

Thomas Shelby, so tainted, and myself, as innocent as a newborn baby. We ended up a love story that was messy, but extremely memorable and great. He has his arm over me, I've got the photo album to myself. He came lounging over to the couch I sit in after a busy day at the office, and when I say office I mean the Shelby Company Limited betting office. He's given up all of that gangster shit, thank God.

He points at the wedding dress I wear in the photo, his finger rests over what looks like my front, making me break into a smile.

"You were carrying Lucy, then." His voice is but a whisper. Soft and laced with nostalgia.

I hum, leaning into his chest. "Yes. But I hadn't a clue then."

We did not get married because we were fearful of having a bastard child, Thomas was far too established for people to even whisper such a thing. They wouldn't dare disrespect him.

"Do you remember that night?" He asks, looking down at me.

Thomas has aged as if he were fine wine, specks of grey cover his hair, he's got these reading glasses that make him look wise. Even though he reckons he looks old in them. A soft smile plays on his lips, and his skin wrinkles in the most handsome way possible, he's aged, but again, its only made me feel more attracted to him. And somehow, he's stuck around with me. Even as I've aged as well. Twenty years together, that's what this has brought us, four kids, a mansion that can fill of more kiddies.

"Our wedding night?" I ask, licking my bottom lip.

"Yes. The wedding night," He chuckles. "I don't reckon we ever spoke about it."

"I remember making love. I remember it being sweet and gentle."

"I felt scared." He murmurs, smirking.

"Scared!" Letting out a laugh, I shut the book, staring into his eyes. "Why? It's not like it was the first time we..."

"Mama!" John comes running into the room, Thomas and I remain seated even though his eyes fill with these big tears. "Lucy said I cannot have a cookie in the jar!"

"Tell your sister you may." I tell him, "Have you had your lunch yet?"

"Yes."

He's only three, but my is he a heartbreaker.

"Did you say thank you to mama for cooking it?"

"Thank you mama."

"Your welcome. Go play,"

He grins from ear to ear, cheery as day before running away. That boy, I swear, he can break my heart in a moment. 

I look up at him again, this time to see his dark eyes sparkling down at me, Thomas looks most desirable, I move my hand over his chest, the feeling of the cotton of his casual shirt makes me smile. I love that he wears lounge wear in the home, I'm sick of him always in suits.

"Do you remember when you wore that lacy thing from Paris?" He asks, running a finger down my leg. "Lingerie." He pronounces each syllable.

I lift my leg, putting it over his, my plaid skirt hikes up a little, allowing him to touch my skin up to my knees. "Of course I remember. It costed me a bloody fortune."

He runs his hand over my skin, "I remember your legs not being so prickly."

I had him feel the smoothness of my legs that night. "I waxed nearly all the hair off of my body for you, like a sphinx."

He kisses my ear, "My sphinx."

I laugh, unable to help myself. Little comments that ooze of sarcasm and romance, its the way to my heart.

As for our wedding night, I remember it all very well,

"Christ." Thomas murmured, examining my hairless legs. "When did you do this?"

I smile under my blush. "I heard its something all the wife's do for their husbands. Do you like it?"

"You continue to shower me in gifts," He coos, sitting down on the bed we are to share for the first time ever as husband and wife. Thomas swallows. "Take off your shift, I want to see all of you."

My heart beats heavy, and I want to come off as this strong character, but its hard. A cold gold sits on my ring finger, claiming me to be his. And his silver band confirms that we are husband and wife.

I take a step back, the dress I have on is a pale pink. My older sister said its the colour of an angel, she's sure. A gift I had gotten from her, and what I have on under is a gift I had given to myself. I take off the dress slowly lifting it over my hips and head. The silk falls to the floor, and I let my hair down from the loose ponytail its in.

Thomas shifts, looking at me from head to toe.

"You still wear white." He swallows, examining me. "My oh my."

I wear a white lacy thong and a matching bra. It gives my breasts a beautiful plump look, and the suspenders that connect to my stockings are a tan tone that make me look more golden than I already am.

I rest my fingers over the band of the thong, hooking my fingers over it as I bite down on my lip. I feel his eyes linger, a power comes with his hungry look. Thomas quickly rips the tie off of from his collar, "Take your panties off."

I blink, breathing heavily. Everything aches for him. Reaching for the band, I slowly slip them off. Letting them fall to my ankles before stepping out of them. "Now what?"

"Your bra." He stiffens, after a thorough examination of my new found body parts.

I reach behind me and slowly unhook the clasps before sliding the straps down my arm. I drop the bra to the floor too, right beside the thong. I stand naked, with my hands at my sides. My hair is fanned over my face, I can see the slight waves of the curls on my shoulders and stand before him, naked.

Thomas opens his legs, fully dressed still in his suit. I want to fuck him fully clothed. Hang up his suit tomorrow and think, I fucked him in his wedding suit. He looks divine, dignified, delicate.

"Come 'ere." 

"The wedding was good, but the love making was enchanting." He smirks. "Perhaps we should think about doing that again."

"Make love?" I rest my head on his chest.

He kisses my head. "No, Christ no, I'll have a bloody heart attack. Renew our vows, I mean. The kids could be the flower girls, John can bare our rings."

"Thomas Shelby," I pull back, "You must really love me to arrange another wedding."

"I love you." He whispers before pecking my lips. "And hopefully," He mumbles against my lips. "Hopefully you'll pay a visit to those French lingerie designers too."

He throws me back against the couch and leaves me with the most pleasant and pleasing kisses.