The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting soft beams of light across the room. It was a peaceful contrast to the whirlwind of excitement I felt inside. Tomorrow was the big day—the day Claire and I had been planning for months. In just twenty-four hours, we’d be standing in front of our friends and family, exchanging vows, and stepping into the next chapter of our lives together.

I glanced around the living room. The once-chaotic space was now a picture of organization. Lists had been checked off, suitcases half-packed for our honeymoon, and wedding ‘stuff’ neatly stacked by the door, ready to be transported to the venue. It seemed like everything was finally coming together.

As I grabbed a cup of coffee, my phone rang. A quick glance at the screen told me it was Claire. I smiled, a familiar warmth filling my chest. I picked up the phone.

“Hey, babe,” I answered, my voice automatically softening. “How’s everything going on your end?”

Her voice came through, light and bubbly, like it always was when she was excited. “Everything’s going great! I just spoke with the florist, and they confirmed the delivery for tomorrow morning. The flowers are going to be beautiful—exactly what we imagined.”

I could hear the happiness in her voice, and it made me feel at ease. Claire had a way of handling things with such grace, even when the pressure was on. It was one of the many reasons I knew she was the one. She continued, her excitement clear. “I also checked with the caterers, and they’re good to go. The seating arrangements are finalized, and oh—my dress is ready! I just picked it up.”

I chuckled, imagining her smile through the phone. “Sounds like everything’s falling into place. How are you feeling? Nervous at all?”

There was a slight pause before she replied, her voice softening. “A little, I guess. But mostly excited. I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow.”

Her words hit me square in the chest, a mixture of love and anticipation swelling inside me. “I can’t wait either, Claire. Tomorrow is going to be perfect.”

She giggled softly, the sound of it like music. “And then, after all this, we get to jet off to the Maldives for two weeks of nothing but relaxation.”

The mention of our honeymoon instantly brought a vision of turquoise waters and white sand beaches to my mind. We’d been looking forward to it for so long. It was the perfect escape after the chaos of wedding planning. “I’m counting down the hours,” I said, laughing.

“So, what are you up to now?” Claire asked.

I glanced around, taking stock of the final bits of preparation on my side. “Just making sure everything is in order here. Your mom’s bringing over some decorations later, and I’m going to double-check the tux. Oh, and don’t forget, we’re meeting at the rehearsal dinner at six tonight.”

“Of course! I’ll see you there. Don’t stress too much, okay? Everything’s going to be amazing.”

I smiled, her reassurance washing over me like a calming wave. “I know. We’ve got this.”

After hanging up, I leaned back against the kitchen counter, letting the reality sink in. We were almost there. Just one more night, one more day of preparation, and then we’d be starting our forever together.

I took a deep breath, savouring the moment. Tomorrow was the day my life would change, and I couldn’t have asked for a better partner to face it with than Claire. Our wedding day would come and go in the blink of an eye, but what excited me most was the lifetime that came after—the countless adventures, the small everyday moments, and the quiet mornings like this one, where it was just the two of us. Tomorrow was the beginning of it all.

And after that, the Maldives awaited—a tropical paradise where we could finally unwind, leave the stress behind, and just enjoy being with each other, husband and wife. The thought filled me with a sense of peace. Claire and I were ready.

 ***

Claire put down the phone, her lips curling into a wicked smile. She leaned back into the pillows, her breath still uneven, and glanced over at the man beside her. The room was filled with an almost oppressive silence, the kind that follows moments that can’t be undone. His eyes were fixed on her, still glazed with desire, but there was something darker lurking beneath the surface.

She ran a hand through her hair, tousled from the intensity of what had just happened, and let out a slow exhale. For a moment, guilt gnawed at her, creeping up from the pit of her stomach, but she quickly pushed it down. She had come too far to question her decisions now. Tomorrow, she would be walking down the aisle, looking radiant in white, and no one—least of all you—would know what had happened here, what was still happening between her and her lover.

He reached out, pulling her close again, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her skin. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation for just a second longer before reality could set back in. Her thoughts briefly flickered to you—your voice on the phone, your love for her so palpable it nearly ached. But then she shook it off. She was good at that, compartmentalizing. Keeping her secrets buried where they belonged. 

“You sure about this?” her lover asked, his voice a low murmur in the stillness. He looked at her with an intensity that told her he was all too aware of the stakes.

Claire smiled, a little too brightly, a little too carelessly. “Of course. Tomorrow’s just another day.”

Her lover raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t push. He didn’t need to. The two of them had danced around this fire for long enough that the consequences no longer seemed real.

“Let’s not think about tomorrow just yet,” she said, leaning in to kiss him once more, allowing herself to be pulled back into the heat of the moment. Tomorrow could wait. Tomorrow was about you.

Claire’s fingers trailed down his chest, her nails grazing the surface of his skin as she moved lower, enjoying the feel of his body beneath her touch. She wrapped her hand around his cock, feeling it pulse as it hardened in her grasp. A wicked thrill surged through her. There was something about him—about this—that she couldn’t resist, something that held her in a grip far stronger than the vows she was set to make tomorrow.

As she stared down at him, her hand slowly stroking him, a flicker of disdain crossed her mind when she thought of you. Paul. The man she was supposed to marry. The man who had never made her feel this way, never stirred this kind of hunger deep within her.

Her breath quickened as she focused on her lover’s cock, the heat between them simmering in the quiet room. There was no comparison, not in her mind. She loved this—the power she held in moments like these, the way she could make him unravel with just a touch.

She leaned down, her lips hovering dangerously close, but she stopped herself, letting the anticipation hang in the air. He groaned, his need clear, and she smirked, relishing the control she had over him.

Tomorrow, she would say the words, wear the dress, smile for the pictures, and play the part of the perfect bride. But right now, in this moment, all that mattered was the man in front of her, the heat between them, and the secret they shared.

Claire knew she was walking a tightrope, balancing between two worlds that were bound to collide. But for now, she was perfectly content to straddle the line, her desires leading her wherever they may, even if it meant destroying everything in the process.

Paul had always known about Claire’s wild past, the whispers and stories that had followed her for years. People talked, and he’d heard it all: how she had been a bit of a flirt, sometimes more, always drawing men in with her effortless charm. But Paul believed in second chances. He believed she had changed for him. He believed she loved him enough to leave that part of her life behind.

How wrong he was.

As Claire knelt on the bed next to her lover, Mark, she ignored the pang of guilt that threatened to rise. Instead, she focused on the way his cock throbbed in her hand, the way his eyes darkened with lust as she kissed the tip, her lips brushing it softly before taking him gently into her mouth. His breath hitched, and she smiled inwardly, knowing she had him exactly where she wanted him.

“Are you really going to give this up?” Mark asked, his voice low and rough, laced with a challenge. He knew what tomorrow meant—he knew what she was walking into, the life she was about to commit to. But here, now, in this secret moment, he wanted her to admit the truth.

Claire pulled back, her lips releasing him with a soft pop, and she looked up at him, her eyes filled with mischief. She stroked him again, slow and deliberate, before answering. “No way, babe,” she said, her voice dripping with seduction. “I’m not giving this up. Not now. Not ever.”

Mark smirked, satisfaction crossing his face. He had known her too long, seen too many sides of her to believe she’d ever be content with just one man, one life. Paul could have her during the day, in public, with the ring on her finger and the promises of forever. But here, in the quiet darkness of these stolen moments, she was his. She always would be.

As she leaned forward again, taking him deeper this time, Claire pushed aside any thoughts of tomorrow. The wedding, the vows, the white dress—none of it mattered right now. Right now, she was lost in the heat of this moment, in the thrill of her secret.

And in her heart, she knew this was the real Claire. Not the bride Paul thought he was marrying, but the woman who lived for the forbidden, for the rush of the things she wasn’t supposed to have. And there was no way she was giving that up. Not for anyone.

Claire worked Mark’s cock with practiced ease, her lips moving over him in a slow, deliberate rhythm. She could feel his body tense, his breathing shallow as he teetered on the edge. It didn’t take long before he groaned, his hands tangling in her hair as he released deep into her mouth. She savoured the warmth, the taste of him lingering on her tongue as she swallowed every last drop, her eyes locking with his for just a second—a silent exchange that carried more meaning than either of them wanted to admit.

Wiping her lip, Claire leaned back, flashing him a playful smile. “I’ve got to go, darling,” she said, her tone casual as though nothing had just happened. “A few loose ends to get sorted before tomorrow.”

Mark, still catching his breath, leaned back against the pillows, his eyes following the curve of her body as she stood up from the bed. She was radiant, completely unbothered by the situation—naked, confident, and utterly captivating. He loved this version of her. No pretences, no masks. Just raw, unapologetic Claire.

As she began to gather her clothes, Mark let out a low chuckle. “You sure you’re ready for tomorrow?” he asked, his voice filled with amusement.

Claire glanced over her shoulder, her smile never faltering. “I’ll be the perfect bride,” she said with a wink, pulling on her dress. “Paul won’t suspect a thing.”

Claire stood at the edge of the bed, still naked, her eyes locked onto Mark’s with a mischievous glint. Slowly, she moved her hand between her legs, teasing her pussy with her fingers in a way that was more for her own pleasure than for his. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move, completely entranced by her confidence and the way she played with the fire of their affair.

With a wicked smile, she broke the silence. “You’re coming to the wedding and reception tomorrow, right?”

Mark grinned, leaning back against the pillows. He couldn’t help but admire her nerve. “I wouldn’t miss it,” he said, his tone laced with amusement. He knew the stakes, knew what it would mean to be there, to watch her marry another man, but it only fuelled the thrill of their twisted game 

“Good,” Claire purred, her fingers still moving in slow, deliberate circles. “I might need you.” Her voice was thick with seduction, the promise of something even more dangerous, more forbidden. The look in her eye was all too clear—this was far from over.

Mark laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re playing with fire, Claire.”

She paused for a moment, locking eyes with him again, before finally pulling her hand away and heading toward the bathroom. “You know I love the heat,” she said over her shoulder as she disappeared into the shower.

The sound of running water filled the room, but Mark stayed where he was, letting the moment sink in. Tomorrow, he’d be there, standing in the crowd as Claire walked down the aisle in her white dress, the perfect bride in the eyes of everyone else. But only he knew the truth—the side of her that Paul would never see.

He chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head. Claire was dangerous, and he couldn’t wait to see just how far she was willing to take things.

As for Claire, the thrill of tomorrow’s deception excited her even more. There was no guilt, no hesitation. She was living in two worlds, balancing between the life she was supposed to have and the secret life she couldn’t give up. The shower water streamed down her body, washing away the remnants of tonight, but not the feeling of power that coursed through her.

Tomorrow was her wedding day. But for Claire, it was just another game. One she had every intention of winning.

Back at her apartment she hurried around, putting the finishing touches on her side of the preparations. It was all coming together, a perfect picture of what a wedding should be—flawless, elegant, and filled with love. But beneath the surface, Claire’s secrets simmered, and she relished the thought that no one, not even Paul, suspected a thing. 

Later that afternoon, she met up with her maid of honour, Sarah. The two women had been friends for years, and Sarah knew Claire better than most. They sat in a quiet corner of a local wine bar, sipping glasses of rich red, their conversation flowing easily. But as the afternoon wore on and the wine loosened their tongues, Sarah’s smile faded, replaced by something more serious. She swirled her glass, watching the liquid inside before glancing up at Claire.

“You know,” Sarah started cautiously, “I’ve seen you with Mark.”

 Claire arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful smile. “Oh?”

“Yeah, at some pretty secluded places,” Sarah continued. “Holding hands, kissing. It’s pretty obvious what’s going on.”

There was a beat of silence as the words hung between them. Sarah wasn’t judging, not really—she had known for a long time that Claire had never truly stopped being the wild, free-spirited woman she used to be. But now, with Paul, it was different. Tomorrow, Claire was supposed to commit herself to a life of love and fidelity.

Sarah sighed, her concern clear in her voice. “So, why are you marrying Paul if you’re still with Mark?”

Claire took a slow sip of her wine before answering, completely unfazed by the confession. She let out a laugh, light and unbothered, as if Sarah’s concern was more amusing than anything else.

“Paul’s good to me,” Claire said, a small smirk on her lips. “I love the way he treats me. He’s sweet, loyal. I know he loves me, and I suppose I do love him… in a way.”

“But Mark?” Sarah pressed, her eyes narrowing as she tried to understand.

Claire leaned back in her chair, her smile growing wider. “Mark’s different,” she admitted, her voice lowering as if smelling a delicious secret. “I adore Mark’s large cock. The way he fucks me—there’s no comparison. It’s not about love with him; it’s pure lust. He gives me something that Paul can’t.”

Sarah stared at her, processing the words. She had always known Claire was complicated, but this was something else entirely. “But doesn’t it bother you? The lying, the sneaking around?”

Claire shrugged, unbothered by the question. “Not really. I get the best of both worlds. Paul gives me stability, and Mark gives me excitement. I don’t see why I should have to choose.”

The way Claire said it—so casually, so confidently—made it clear that she didn’t feel any guilt. She was in control of her life, playing both sides to her advantage, and she wasn’t about to give up either one. Tomorrow, she would walk down the aisle and marry Paul, all while keeping Mark on the side for her own pleasure 

Sarah shook her head slowly, unsure whether to admire Claire’s audacity or worry about what would happen when the truth eventually came out. But for now, Claire seemed completely at ease, enjoying her wine and the secret double life she had crafted.

Sarah leaned forward, her brow furrowed with a mix of curiosity and concern as she took another sip of her wine. “So… are you going to stop seeing Mark?” she asked, though deep down, she already knew the answer.

Claire didn’t hesitate. “No,” she said simply, swirling her glass and watching the dark red liquid catch the light. She took a slow, deliberate sip, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she set the glass back down.

Sarah sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. “Is Mark coming to the wedding?”

Claire’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Yes, of course,” she replied, leaning back in her chair, completely at ease with her double life. “I may need him.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow, her tone laced with surprise. “Need him? For what?”

Claire didn’t answer right away. Instead, she just winked, her smile turning wicked as if she held onto some delicious secret. She didn’t need to spell it out; the implication hung between them like a whispered confession.

“You’re impossible,” Sarah said, slightly amazed and shaking her head. But beneath her shock, there was a hint of admiration for Claire’s audacity. She had always been bold, living her life without apologies or regrets, but this was something else.

“I know,” Claire replied with a shrug, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She wasn’t about to give up the thrill of her affair, not even on her wedding day. Paul would be the perfect husband in public, but Mark? Mark would always be there in the shadows, giving her what she craved.

Sarah leaned back, still processing it all. “Aren’t you scared it’ll catch up with you?”

Claire’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Maybe. But until it does, I’m going to enjoy every second.”

Claire’s eyes gleamed with a sly, seductive grin as she casually swirled the wine in her glass. “Paul hardly drinks,” she said, her voice smooth and confident. “He’ll probably fall asleep right after the reception.”

Sarah, sitting across from her, raised an eyebrow, intrigued but unsure where this was headed. Claire leaned in slightly, her voice lowering with an unmistakable hint of mischief. “I mean, it’s my wedding night. I intend to fuck. And if Paul can’t… well…” She let the words hang in the air, her smile widening in a way that left no room for interpretation.

Sarah blinked in surprise before bursting out in laughter, a mix of disbelief and amusement colouring her face. “Wait, you’re serious?” she asked, her laughter subsiding as she tried to comprehend what Claire was suggesting. “You’re actually planning to fuck Mark on your wedding night?”

Claire just shrugged, completely unbothered by the question. “Why not?” she replied coolly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, if Paul’s too exhausted to make it memorable, why should I miss out? It’s my wedding night, after all.”

Sarah stared at her friend, equal parts shocked and amazed by her audacity. “You’re impossible, Claire,” she said, shaking her head with a mix of exasperation and reluctant admiration.

Claire laughed, unashamed and unapologetic. “I never said I was perfect,” she teased, her wicked smile still firmly in place. “Paul will never know. He’ll wake up thinking everything went exactly as planned, and I’ll have had exactly what I needed.”

Sarah couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but in some strange way, she wasn’t surprised. Claire had always been this bold, this unapologetically selfish when it came to her desires. But planning to sleep with Mark on the very night she was supposed to consummate her marriage?

“You’re playing with fire,” Sarah said, her tone a mixture of concern and disbelief. “One day, Claire, this is all going to catch up with you.”

Claire’s smile didn’t falter. “Maybe,” she said, her voice playful. “But until then? I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

The conversation drifted away from the topic as they finished their wine, but Sarah couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. Claire was playing a dangerous game, and the stakes were higher than she seemed to realize. But Claire, in her confident, carefree way, seemed determined to keep walking that tightrope—until, one day, it might snap.

For now, though, Claire was in control, living her life on her terms. Tomorrow would be the biggest day of her life, and she was ready for it—all of it.

The wedding day was as perfect as anyone could have imagined. The sun streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting colourful light onto the aisle as Claire walked down it, her dress flowing behind her in waves of white lace. She looked absolutely stunning, every inch the radiant bride. Paul, standing at the altar, couldn’t take his eyes off her. He looked handsome, his dark suit perfectly tailored, his smile genuine and full of love. To everyone watching, they were the picture of happiness.

But not everyone’s attention was on the happy couple.

At the back of the church, Mark stood, his eyes fixed on Claire. He wore a suit too, though less formal, and to anyone watching, he was just another guest, blending into the background. But to Sarah, standing beside Claire as her maid of honour, Mark’s presence was impossible to ignore.

As the ceremony progressed, Sarah’s gaze drifted toward where Mark was standing. Her heart gave a little jump. She hadn’t seen him in a while, but their history was still fresh in her mind. She had fucked Mark a few times herself—before Claire had fully staked her claim—and knew exactly why Claire was so drawn to him. Mark had a way about him, an effortless charm, a raw magnetism that made him impossible to forget.

A small, knowing smile crossed Sarah’s face as she watched Claire and Paul exchange vows, their voices filled with emotion. For Paul, it was everything. His love for Claire was pure, untainted by doubt or suspicion. But Sarah couldn’t help but think about the layers of deception hidden beneath Claire’s vows. She was pledging her forever to Paul, but Sarah knew better. Claire’s heart, her desires—those belonged to someone else entirely.

As Paul and Claire exchanged rings, sealing their vows with promises of loyalty and fidelity, Sarah’s thoughts wandered back to Mark. She remembered the intensity of his touch, the hunger in his eyes. She could only imagine how Claire felt knowing Mark was watching from the back of the church, knowing what was waiting for her after the reception.

Sarah’s lips curved into a faint, amused smile. Claire had pulled off the perfect wedding, but Sarah knew the truth. Paul would never see it coming. And on this day, as everyone celebrated love, devotion, and commitment, Claire’s secret life loomed in the shadows, as vibrant and undeniable as ever.

When the ceremony ended, and the applause filled the church, Claire and Paul kissed, sealing their marriage. Sarah clapped along with the rest, but her gaze found Mark one more time. She knew that while Paul had Claire in public, Mark would to wait.

The reception was everything a wedding should be: laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft hum of happiness that hung in the air. Claire and Paul were radiant, moving between guests, accepting congratulations, and sharing in the celebration. The champagne flowed freely, and as the speeches wrapped up, the first dance began, with Claire and Paul swaying to the music, all eyes on them. They looked every bit the perfect couple, lost in their moment.

When the dance floor opened up, guests joined in, and the party truly came to life. Claire danced with relatives, Paul with old friends, and it felt like everything was unfolding just as it should.

Sarah, sipping from her glass, was watching the swirl of activity when she felt a tap on her arm. She turned, her smile widening when she saw Mark standing there. He was as confident and charming as ever, and despite everything, there was a warmth in his gaze that Sarah had always been drawn to.

“May I have this dance?” Mark asked, extending his hand. Sarah didn’t hesitate, setting her glass down and taking it.

As they moved around the floor, Sarah couldn’t help but glance at Claire, who was across the room, laughing with a group of guests, completely at ease. Sarah turned back to Mark, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“So, what about tonight?” Sarah asked, her tone casual but laced with a deeper question. She had seen Claire’s mischievous smile earlier, had heard her bold confession, and now she wondered if Mark knew what Claire had in mind.

Mark’s brow furrowed slightly, and he gave her a puzzled look. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Claire told me to come, so I’m here. But I don’t know what her plans are.” There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice, as if even he wasn’t entirely sure where he fit into the night’s events.

Sarah smiled knowingly, her lips curving into a sly grin. She leaned in a little closer. “I think she intends to get you to fuck her if Paul can’t… or won’t,” she said, her voice low, but her words carried an unmistakable truth.

Mark’s eyes widened in surprise, a momentary flash of realization washing over him. “Oh,” he said softly, taking in what Sarah had just revealed. “Okay.” He glanced over at Claire, who was still immersed in conversation, her carefree laughter floating across the room. “She is playing with fire,” Mark muttered, shaking his head slightly.

Sarah gave him a playful look. “I know,” she said, her tone light but with an edge of amusement. “But she’s really good at it.”

Mark chuckled, the tension easing as he met her gaze again. “She is. Really good.”

For a moment, they danced in silence, the music filling the space between them. Then Sarah, ever the tease, looked at him slyly. “Better than us?” she asked, a coy smile tugging at her lips.

Mark smiled back, his eyes twinkling with shared memories. “Almost,” he said with a wink before pulling her in for a hug and a soft, lingering kiss on the cheek. It was a kiss that held a past they both remembered but no longer acted on. Still, the spark between them hadn’t entirely faded, even if Claire had become the centre of their intrigue.

As they parted, Sarah glanced once more at Claire across the room, her mind still buzzing with everything that had been said. Claire was indeed playing a dangerous game, but for now, everything remained under wraps, and the night continued, filled with music, laughter, and the promises that still lay hidden in the dark.

The reception had reached its peak—guests laughing, dancing, and indulging in the flowing champagne as the night wore on. Paul and Claire moved through the crowd, sometimes arm-in-arm, sometimes separately, each enjoying the celebration in their own way. As they mingled, there was an unmistakable air of joy surrounding them, the newlywed glow still fresh on their faces.

At one point, they both approached Mark, who stood by the bar, nursing a drink. Claire’s eyes sparkled mischievously as she caught Mark’s gaze. With Paul beside her, she smiled broadly and introduced them.

“This is Mark,” she said, her voice smooth and full of meaning.

Paul extended his hand to Mark, the man whose presence he didn’t think twice about. “Nice to meet you,” Paul said with a polite smile. “How do you know Claire?”

Before Mark could even respond, Claire interrupted, running her long nail down Mark’s tie, her smile seductive as her eyes flicked between the two men. “He’s one of my previous lovers,” she said, her voice sultry and casual, as if it were just another piece of small talk.

The words hung in the air for a moment, and before Paul could react, Claire leaned in and kissed Mark lightly on the lips. It was quick, just a brush, but enough to send a jolt of tension through the air. Mark stood there, stunned, while Paul blinked, unsure of what he had just witnessed.

Claire pulled away from Mark with a grin, turning her attention back to Paul, who was now trying to make sense of what just happened. Without giving him a moment to process, she slipped her arm through Paul’s and began to lead him away.

“Claire,” Paul started, his voice low and confused as they walked toward the next group of guests. “Why did you invite him?”

Claire’s smile remained, but there was something unreadable in her eyes. She glanced sideways at Paul, her expression playful but evasive. “Maybe I’ll need him,” she said, her tone teasing, but there was an edge to her words that made Paul pause. 

She didn’t give him time to respond, instead grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the next group of guests, effortlessly slipping into conversation with them. Paul’s question hung between them, unanswered and unresolved, as Claire continued to charm those around her.

Paul tried to brush it off, but something about Claire’s interaction with Mark gnawed at him. The way she kissed Mark, the casualness with which she spoke about their past—it left him feeling uneasy. But Claire was already laughing with the others, moving forward as if nothing had happened.

Paul forced a smile, trying to push aside his doubts. It was their wedding day, after all. He wanted to believe that Claire’s flirty nature was just part of who she was—nothing more, nothing to worry about. Still, as the night wore on, Mark’s presence lingered in his mind, and Claire’s cryptic words echoed in his thoughts.

But for now, the night continued, and Paul did his best to play the part of the happy groom, even as a small seed of doubt began to take root deep inside him.

Sarah sauntered up to Mark, her presence always magnetic, especially when there was an undercurrent of tension in the air. She slipped her arm casually through his, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “That was interesting,” she murmured, her eyes flicking toward where Claire and Paul had disappeared into the crowd.

Mark smiled, a hint of amusement playing on his face. “Indeed,” he said, his tone light, though the weight of what had just happened still lingered between them.

They stood there for a moment, watching the guests swirl around them, laughter and music filling the space. But in that moment, Sarah leaned in closer, her breath warm against Mark’s ear. “When you’ve finished with her—or even before—and want to settle down,” she whispered, her voice low and intimate, “I’m still fond of you.” She smiled as she pulled back slightly, giving him a look that was both playful and serious.

Mark turned toward her, his expression softening, and without hesitation, he slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her a little closer. “That would be nice,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with a certain promise. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her neck, just beneath her ear, making her shiver at the familiar touch.

With a smile, Mark led her back toward the dance floor, his hand resting comfortably at her waist as they swayed to the music. There was an ease between them, a history that hadn’t faded, despite everything that had come between them. As they danced, the rest of the room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in their own moment.

For Sarah, it was more than just nostalgia. She had always had a soft spot for Mark, even as Claire had drawn him into her web. And now, standing there with him, feeling the warmth of his body against hers, Sarah couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, one day, the games would end and they could have something real.

But for now, they danced, caught in the middle of a complicated night where desires and secrets intertwined, and neither one of them was quite ready to let go.

As the reception wound down, the buzz of the evening still lingered in the air. Mark stood off to the side, watching as the bride and groom made their final rounds, saying their goodbyes to friends and family. He wasn’t one to sleep around, and truth be told, he had only been drawn into Claire’s chaotic world because of something undeniable between them. But even as the night wore on, his thoughts drifted to Sarah. He was fond of her, too—more than he had ever let on. Sarah had stepped back when Claire had taken over, but Mark had never forgotten her warmth and how easy things had been between them 

The moment finally arrived for Claire and Paul to leave. The reception, held at a grand hotel, meant they didn’t have far to go. The newlyweds had booked a suite upstairs for the night, a small luxury before they were scheduled to leave for their honeymoon in two days. They made their way through the crowd, the sounds of laughter and clapping filling the room as the guests bid them farewell. Claire’s smile was radiant, her arm wrapped around Paul’s as they made their exit.

As they moved toward the lift, Claire’s eyes caught Mark’s across the room. In a quick, subtle gesture, she signalled with her hand, letting him know she’d be in touch. Mark felt a familiar churn of anticipation and tension. He nodded slightly, his face remaining neutral as Paul led Claire into the elevator, unaware of the silent exchange that had just passed.

Inside the lift, Paul turned to Claire, the excitement of the night still coursing through him. He pulled her close, his hands resting on her waist as he leaned in to kiss her. Claire responded eagerly, her body pressing against his, her lips parting with the same urgency that had been simmering beneath her cool exterior all night. She felt Paul’s cock hardening as she rubbed herself against him, a low moan escaping her throat as the heat between them rose.

Paul deepened the kiss, his hands tightening around her waist, pulling her closer as the elevator doors closed behind them. In that moment, it was just the two of them, newly married and caught up in the passion of their first night as husband and wife.

But even as Claire kissed Paul, her mind flickered back to Mark. She knew she was playing with fire, but the thrill of it was something she couldn’t resist. Tomorrow was another day—another night—but for now, she was with Paul, and she was determined to enjoy the night ahead in more ways than one.

The elevator chimed softly as it reached their floor, and they stepped out, Paul guiding her down the hallway toward the suite. Claire smiled, anticipation filling her as the door to their honeymoon suite opened. The night was far from over, but as Claire had signalled earlier, she had other plans that lingered just beneath the surface.

In the honeymoon suite, the soft glow of the lamps bathed the room in a warm light, and the faint hum of the city outside was barely audible. The champagne in the ice bucket glistened with condensation, adding an air of luxury to the night ahead. Claire turned her back to Paul, and with a teasing smile, she asked, “Unzip me, darling.”

She slipped away toward the bathroom, her eyes flashing with playful seduction. “Pour us some champagne,” she called over her shoulder, leaving Paul standing there, eager and expectant.

Paul, already caught in the anticipation, opened the champagne bottle with a soft pop and poured two glasses, setting them aside. He only removed his jacket and loosened his tie, leaving the rest for Claire. The soft sound of her movements behind the bathroom door made his heart race. His mind raced as he imagined what was to come.

After a few minutes, the door opened slowly, and Claire stepped out, transformed. Her wedding dress was gone, replaced by delicate white lingerie that hugged her body in all the right places. The lace framed her figure, and her wickedly high stiletto heels clicked softly against the floor. She had applied red lipstick, thick and bold, it stood out against her pale skin, and her perfume filled the room, intoxicating and sensual. Her long hair, which had been elegantly pinned for the wedding, now cascaded down her back, completing the look of seduction.

Paul stood frozen, admiring her with a mixture of awe and lust as she walked toward him with slow, deliberate steps. He handed her a glass of champagne, their fingers brushing together. They clinked their glasses, eyes locked, and took slow sips, the tension between them thick and growing.

Claire set her glass down and moved closer to him, her eyes scanning his body with a mix of appreciation and control. She smiled, slipping her hands around the knot of his tie, undoing it with a practiced flick of her wrist and pulling it free. “You’ve been waiting long enough,” she teased, her voice low and sultry.

She moved her fingers to the buttons of his shirt, undoing each one with tantalizing slowness. Paul watched her, his breath shallow, feeling the heat from her fingertips as she worked her way down his chest. Once his shirt was fully unbuttoned, she slid it off his shoulders, her nails grazing his skin as she pushed the fabric away.

Claire then undid his belt with a deft tug, her hands brushing against him with every movement, teasing and heightening the anticipation. She slowly unbuttoned his pants, letting them drop to the floor. As she knelt slightly to pull them free from his legs, her eyes lingered on him, lips curving into a satisfied smile.

“You look even better than I imagined, husband,” she whispered, rising to her feet. Her fingers trailed over his chest, light as a feather, before settling on his waist, pulling him closer.

Paul, lost in the intensity of the moment, leaned in, his lips finding hers in a deep, passionate kiss. Claire’s body pressed against his, the lace of her lingerie soft against his skin. As the kiss deepened, Paul’s hands moved to her waist, gripping her tightly as the room seemed to blur around them.

Claire pulled back just slightly, her lips still brushing against his. “Let’s make tonight unforgettable,” she murmured, her voice filled with promises of passion. Paul’s eyes were filled with desire, ready to let her take the lead.

In that moment, Claire had all the power, and she loved it. This was their wedding night, but she knew that in the back of her mind, the night held more layers—ones Paul couldn’t even begin to understand. For now, she would give him what he wanted, but she had her own plans waiting in the shadows.

Claire stood there, poised and confident, as she peeled down Paul’s boxers, her eyes locked onto his as she stroked his cock. It hardened quickly in her hand, but Paul’s mind was racing. The anticipation, the excitement, everything had built up too fast. Before he could stop himself, his cock twitched violently, and suddenly, he exploded, his cum spilling onto the floor in front of her.

Claire blinked in fiend shock, her mouth parting slightly. “Oh my God,” she exclaimed, her tone a mixture of surprise and disappointment. Paul flushed deeply, his face burning with embarrassment. “I’m… sorry,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze, the shame washing over him.

Claire stared at him for a moment, then wiped her hand on the edge of the bed, forcing a grin. “It’s okay, darling. We have all night,” she said, trying to sound reassuring as she hid her plan behind a smile.

She sat on the edge of the bed, gently pulling Paul toward her, acting to salvage the moment. Her hands went back to his now-limp cock, her fingers stroking it with care, hoping to coax it back to life. But as she worked, there was little response—just the occasional twitch, but nothing substantial. Paul stood there, his heart pounding, feeling helpless as she continued.

Claire’s patience began to wear thin. She looked up at him, her eyes sharp, though she kept her lips in a teasing smile. Without breaking eye contact, she slipped his cock between her lips, the red lipstick leaving faint marks along his skin. She sucked gently, trying to bring back the urgency that had disappeared too quickly. But again, nothing.

Paul could see the shift in her expression. Her movements became more forceful, less patient, and as the seconds passed, her frustration grew. Claire pulled back, a flash of anger crossing her face. She had planned for this night to be perfect, to hold Paul’s attention while keeping her other plans waiting in the wings. But now, this?

“Really?” Claire muttered, her voice laced with irritation as she sat back, glaring up at him. Paul felt his stomach drop. He had never seen her look at him like that before. “I… I don’t know what’s wrong,” Paul stammered, feeling utterly defeated.

Claire sighed, trying to reel in her frustration but finding it hard to hide her disappointment. She ran a hand through her hair, sitting there for a moment, deciding whether to keep trying or let her anger take over. The night was what she had expected, and her mind wandered to Mark, waiting for her call.

Paul stood there, silent and tense, as Claire’s thoughts spun behind her gaze.

Paul, his face flushed with shame, apologized profusely. “I’m so sorry,” he stammered, his words spilling out in a rush. “It must be the champagne… I just—I’ll recover, I promise. Just give me a little time.”

But Claire’s patience had snapped. Her initial shock had morphed into something sharper, darker. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips curled into a cruel smile as her anger boiled over. She looked at Paul with a mixture of disappointment and contempt. “Champagne?” she scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “That’s what you’re blaming this on?”

She paced around him, her heels clicking sharply against the floor, each step a reminder of her fury. Paul stood there, frozen, unable to meet her gaze as she began to taunt him. “This is my wedding night, Paul. My night. I’ve spent the whole day preparing for this, looking perfect, turning myself on for you, and this is what I get?” Her voice was cutting, each word like a knife twisting into him.

Paul’s heart pounded in his chest, guilt washing over him as she circled him like a predator, her stiletto heels echoing in the quiet room.

“I’m horny, Paul. I’m turned on. I need a fuck,” she spat, her frustration boiling over. “I didn’t marry you to be left unsatisfied on our wedding night.”

She stopped in front of him, her eyes blazing with fury as she ran her hands down her body, showing off the lingerie she’d put on just for him. “Look at me. This is what you get, and you can’t even handle it.”

Paul swallowed hard, his mouth dry, his mind spinning with a mix of shame and desperation. “Claire, please… just give me a little time. I’ll—”

“Time?” she interrupted, laughing bitterly. “What am I supposed to do with ‘time’? I need someone who can fuck me now.” She took a step closer to him, her eyes glinting with anger. “And clearly, you’re not that man tonight.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and cruel, as she stepped back, shaking her head in disappointment. Paul, still standing there, felt utterly broken, his confidence shattered under the weight of her anger.

Claire’s heels clicked once more as she turned, walking away from him, her fury simmering beneath the surface as she struggled to control the chaos of emotions coursing through her 

Claire sat on the edge of the bed, her frustration simmering just beneath the surface as she pulled a cigarette from a small silver case, lit it, and took a slow, deliberate drag. The smoke curled around her, adding a layer of tension to the already charged room. She rarely smoked—only when she was furious or when sex was on her mind. Tonight, it was both.