Page 116 of Forty, Flirty & F*cked

And she does. With a soft cry, she comes undone, her body pulsing around my fingers, her face a picture of pure ecstasy. I hold her through it, my own desire raging but ignored.

This was for her. This was always for her.

Slowly, she comes down from her high, her body relaxing against mine. I slip my fingers out of her, bringing them to my mouth and sucking them clean. Her eyes darken as she watches, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

"You're incorrigible," she breathes, her brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"And you love it," I reply, stealing one last kiss.

Just then, the first notes of the processional music drift up from the courtyard.

"Fuck," I mutter against her skin.

"Later," she promises, sliding down my body in a way that makes me seriously consider missing the ceremony entirely. "After you fulfill your Best Man duties."

"I'd rather fulfill my husband duties."

"Patience." She straightens my tie, smirking. "Though maybe avoid telling everyone why you're late."

"You mean I shouldn't mention how my wife thoroughly debauched me before the ceremony?"

"Pretty sure that's not in the Best Man handbook."

"Neither is marrying your best friend's cousin's ex in Vegas, but here we are."

She rises on her toes, pressing one final kiss to my lips. "Go. Before Alex sends a search party."

"Stay right here?"

"Always." Her smile turns soft. "Though maybe put some distance between us during the vows. I've heard your singing voice can be... distracting."

“Oh come on, I only hit that note once.”

"The video evidence suggests otherwise."

I steal one more kiss, then force myself to step back. "This isn't over."

"Promise?"

The word hits somewhere deep in my chest. Because that's what this is, isn't it? A promise. Not just for tonight or tomorrow, but for all the chaotic, beautiful, impossible days ahead.

"I do," I say softly.

Her breath catches at the words, understanding flickering in her eyes. Then the music swells, and reality crashes back.

"Go!" She pushes me toward the door. "Before Grayson has an aneurysm about the photo schedule."

I run, dodging well-dressed guests and flower arrangements, making it to my place just as Alex appears.

"Cutting it close," he mutters.

"Worth it."

He glances at my slightly rumpled suit, my definitely-messed-up hair, and grins. "I'd ask where you've been, but..."

"Focus on your own wedding, Drake."

"Says the man who managed to get married before me."

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