Cerpen Pernikahan Malam Pertama Novels & Stories

Blushing cheeks and fast heart beats are evidence of the awkwardness that surrounds the newlyweds' first night. "Now should we just sleep?" Precious asked "Sorry, I don't know what to do because this is my first time." Said Alex, bowing his head in embarrassment "I'm fine, just do what you want." Said Precious Precious hugged Alex and a kiss made them into one. As their body heat increased their first night heats up and is filled with unforgettable happy memories. *** Early in the morning, the sound of birds chirping could be heard and woke the couple from their deep sleep. Slowly Precious opened her eyes, she then realized she woke up in the arms of Alex who had officially become her husban

The guests were busy with their own meal nobody noticed the little conflict the newlywed couple was facing. “How dare you kiss me like that!?” She punched him lightly on the shoulder. “This is our wedding day, right now we are husband and wife. It’s normal for me to kiss you and consider this the beginning. Later on I will give you so much more than just a kiss.” He reminded her. Yes, she almost forgot about it completely since she had been more focused on the wedding ritual itself. The first night. Most couples would exchange their love to each other on the first night and drown themselves in a world of bliss and pleasure, but for Karina, it was nightmare.

" look sanjana when we got married , it was me who filled vermillion in your hairline without knowing your consent , but when realisation hit me that i never asked your opinion,i thought in a way i forced you in this marriage .On our marriage night i promise myself that i will try to give you all the happiness that you deserved . I knew very little about you at that time , , but I know that if I want to consummate our marriage ,you will never say no to me . I am 30 yrs old sanjana , when i got a wife about 9 yrs younger than me , you came in front of me as a submissive wife and trust me i never wanted that . You are so pretty, so naive that sometimes I feel guilty that a girl like you d

There it is again, the thing from the Peninsula curb, that's the first time you've ever been jealous out loud, how does it feel? She's keeping a tally of all the ordinary things I never did. I deserve the tally. I married her in a courthouse with a pre-nup as thick as a novel, a deadline, and a lawyer present. I skipped every step a man's supposed to take and went straight to fucking everything up. I'm taking the steps now. Out of order. Late. Whatever Connor Hale managed over a breakfast plate without breaking a sweat, I can manage at my own wife's door. "I'll think about it," she says.

We were happy—or at least, I convinced myself we were. Eventually, we got married. It was the biggest wedding the city had ever seen, a lavish affair that made my family beam with pride. But the glamour ended at the bedroom door. On our wedding night, Maxine fell asleep almost immediately. He claimed he was exhausted and had to travel the very next morning for an urgent business meeting. I tried to wake him, my heart pounding. I had never had sex before, and now that I was finally a wife, I needed it more than ever. I needed him to at least hug me, touch me, or show some sign of desire. But he didn't lay a hand on me. I laid there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, figuring he was just dra

Tristan smiled, lifting his hand to gently brush her hair away from her face, his touch slow and reverent. “I love you,” he said, his gaze lingering in her eyes before drifting to her lips. He leaned in, and when he kissed her, it was unhurried but full, a kiss that carried every promise they had made that day. He lifted her easily, cradling her as if she weighed nothing, and carried her to the bed. As he laid her down, their laughter faded into quiet breaths, hands finding familiar warmth as clothing was slowly forgotten. Surrounded by candlelight and the echoes of celebration beyond the walls, they shared their first night together as husband and wife.

Both from influential families, with mega-corporations in tow, not only was the prenup a big deal, but so was the wedding. They had a simple ceremony for the press. The priest, holding a bible, asked solemnly, “Mr. Percival Dunraven, do you take Miss Eulalia Clearwater to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health?” Dressed to the nines in a black suit, Percival looked her in the eye and said three words, “I do.” So, their marriage was a sham from the get-go. How could she expect him to keep his word?

The room smelled of paper and her perfume. It was perfect. It was no rooftop restaurant with a string quartet, but that’s why it was so good—it was all hers. I took a breath. “The first time we were married,” I said, “I did almost everything wrong.” Her eyes stayed fixed on mine. She didn’t interrupt.

“You are the love I didn’t think I deserved. But you loved me anyway. Through silence. Through pain. Through all the messy, imperfect pieces. I promise to love you honestly, fiercely, and forever. I promise to stand beside you even when the world doesn’t. I’m done running. You are home.”The clerk sniffled, handing us our stamped certificate. “Y’all got me crying over here.” We left hand in hand, married. No audience. No bouquet. No big announcements. Just paper promises and hearts still beating for each other. We found a motel thirty minutes later. The kind with scratchy bedspreads and a neon sign that buzzed louder than the highway. Room 12. One key. Peeling wallpaper.

The ceremony was over just minutes after it started. The champagne hadn’t even been poured yet, and already I wanted to shatter the flute against the marble floor. I stood beside my new husband, Dominic’s like a ghost in a crown—his wife on paper, his pawn in practice. The cathedral’s high ceilings swallowed our silence, while distant applause still echoed off stone walls. Guests lingered, posing for photos, whispering in polished accents. I felt eyes crawling across my back like ants. I knew the headlines were already being drafted: Blackwood Weds Reynolds’ Battered Bride! Pregnant Mistress or Power Play?