“At long last… this damn wedding is over,” I mutter under my breath, padding barefoot toward the kitchen for something to eat.

  Tyler wouldn’t leave my side the entire day. Every time we moved on the dance floor, his hands stayed low on my waist, fingers pressing into me like he was already claiming what was his.

  I can still feel the heat of his palms there, the way his thumbs traced slow circles over the fabric. My stomach flips just thinking about it. A stupid little thrill bubbles up in my chest, like I’m some giddy teenager. Soon it’ll be just us—him, that thick cock I’ve been craving, his...