It had been nine months since I’d last seen her. Nine months since that weekend at the beach house, where we crossed a line we were never supposed to cross, best friends, they called us. But after the things we did to each other, after the way she screamed my name with my cock buried deep inside her, ‘friends’ was a word that didn’t mean a damn thing anymore.
We didn’t talk much after. A few texts. A couple of missed calls. Maybe we both got scared.
But now, here we were, reunited at someone else’s fairytale.
The wedding was held at a rustic estate, the kind with rolling vineyards and white tents strung with fairy lights. Everyone was dressed in shades of soft, elegant pastels. Everyone except me and her.
I saw Daisy the moment I stepped into the courtyard.
Backless emerald dress. Hair up, neck exposed. Her curves poured into that silk like it was sewn onto her skin. Her mouth parted the moment our eyes met, like her breath caught just seeing me. Mine sure as hell did.
We didn’t speak during the ceremony. Didn’t sit near each other at dinner. But we felt each other across the tables, across the room. Every time her eyes flicked to mine, it was like being struck. There was something under her gaze. Heat. Hunger. Memory.
When she disappeared after the couple’s first dance, I waited two minutes and followed her.
I found her in the hallway just past the kitchen, dim, empty, quiet. She was leaning against the wall, alone, like she’d been waiting for me the whole damn night.
We didn’t speak.
I closed the distance and kissed her like no time had passed.
She moaned into my mouth, her fingers already clawing at my shirt, pulling me closer, harder. I pinned her to the wall, my hand sliding up her thigh, dragging her leg over my hip, feeling her soaked panties under her dress.
“You’ve been wet for me all night, haven’t you?” I growled against her lips.
Her breath hitched. “From the second I saw you.”
I pushed the fabric of her dress up to her waist, slid my fingers beneath the lace, and found her soaked, dripping wet, her pussy begging for my touch.
I kissed her neck, sucked the skin until it bruised, then sank two fingers deep inside her.
She gasped, her head hitting the wall behind her. “Oh fuck-Outlaw-”
“You missed this?” I asked, thrusting my fingers inside her, curling just right.
“Yes-God, yes-don’t stop.”
I didn’t. I finger-fucked her slow, deep, watching her lose control in a hallway where anyone could walk past. Her cunt clenched around my fingers, her moans stifled by my mouth. Her orgasm tore through her with a sudden jerk of her hips, her thighs trembling.
“I’m not done,” I whispered against her ear. “Not even close.”
We barely made it to the guest room I was crashing in.
She kissed me the whole way up the stairs, down the hall, laughing between gasps, dragging me by the hand like a woman starved.
The second the door shut, I had her up against it. I dropped to my knees, shoved her dress up again, and pulled her panties down her legs.
Her pussy glistened in the dim light. Smooth, swollen, soaked.
“Fuck, Daisy. You look like a dream.”
I buried my face between her thighs, my tongue sliding through her folds, circling her clit with deliberate pressure. She cried out, her hands gripping my hair, her hips rocking into my face.
I sucked her clit, then flicked it with my tongue, then sucked it again. I slid two fingers inside her, then three, my mouth and hand working in perfect rhythm.
She came hard, a strangled moan ripping from her throat as her legs nearly gave out.
I stood, mouth slick with her taste, and she kissed me like she needed it to breathe. She dropped to her knees, then her hands tugging at my belt, freeing my cock, hard and leaking from the sight of her on her knees in that dress.
She looked up at me, smirking. “I missed this cock.”
I hissed through my teeth as she took me into her mouth, warm, wet, perfect. Her tongue curled under the shaft, her lips tight around me as she bobbed her head, deeper and deeper until the head of my cock kissed the back of her throat.
“God damn, Daisy,” I groaned, fisting her hair, fucking her mouth slow and deep. “You suck me like you own me.”
She moaned around me in answer, and I nearly lost it.
I pulled her up, spun her around, and bent her over the bed.
She arched her back, looking over her shoulder, her pussy dripping and glistening. “Fuck me, Outlaw. Please. I need you now.”
I slid into her in one long, hard thrust.
She screamed my name into the sheets.
Tight. Wet. Her pussy wrapped around me like it was made for me. I fucked her deep, hands gripping her hips, slamming into her over and over as the bed creaked and her ass bounced back into me.
She was a mess, moaning, gasping, begging for more. I reached around and rubbed her clit while I pounded her, sending her over the edge again. Her pussy clenched, milking me as she came, shaking with every pulse.
I flipped her onto her back, kissed her hard, then fucked her again, this time slower. Passionate. Deep, grinding strokes that had her clawing at my back, pulling me closer.
When I finally came, it was with her legs locked around my waist, her pussy squeezing me tight as I emptied into her, our bodies slick, breathless, wrecked.
We lay tangled in the sheets, her hand on my chest, my fingers still grazing the inside of her thigh.
She looked up at me, eyes sleepy, lips swollen. “I don’t want this to be just tonight.”
“It won’t be,” I said.
And I meant every word.
