The rehearsal dinner was at seven.
I sat between Liam and Cole at the long table in the restaurant’s private room, wearing a thin ivory dress that clung when I shifted. The plug was seated deep. Cole’s morning load was still warm around it, mixed with what Liam had added the night before. Every time I crossed my legs the base pressed and more wetness leaked into the thin thong I’d put on so nothing would show through the fabric.
Cole’s hand rested on my thigh under the table. Casual. Possessive. His thumb stroked slow circles while he talked to Liam about the ceremony order like he hadn’t f****d me over the guest bed at nine that morning and made me hold it all day. Liam smiled, oblivious, one arm around the back of my chair.
“Can’t believe it’s tomorrow,” Liam said. “Finally.”
Cole’s
