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“Well, a number of business associates are here,” he said. “I find it a bit crass to mix business and pleasure.”

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow. “Is that it?”

He had the good grace to cough as he produced the vibrator's remote and began adjusting the strength of it, until it pulsed in my slick, tight passage and I started to tremble. “Perhaps that is not entirely it,” he said, though I could hardly hear him over the sound of my heart in my ears. “I'm starting to want to be the only one to see your face as you come.”

I would have laughed at that, but I was too busy trying to stay conscious. The corset was so tight I thought I could feel my ribs cracking as he drove me higher and higher. My fingers tangled in his fine tuxedo jacket and I clung to him for dear life. The slender, beautiful wedding dress I wore was too narrow, and I had to reach down to hike it up over my hips so I could hook my leg over Anton's. In sexual agony, I rubbed my clit over his hard thigh, the little vibe in my cunt buzzing me straight to heaven. He stood stock still and watched me with satisfaction as I moaned and ground against him.

“Guys?” The sound of the door opening cut through my pleasure, but I was too far gone to stop. “We're about to do the toasts, so if you could—good shitting God, you two, wait til you're on the honeymoon!”

In a haze, I turned my head to see Sadie, her cheeks flame red, retreating with her hands over her eyes. “Hurry up out here!” she commanded. “There's only so much alcohol in the world and these rich fucks are going to drink it all if you don't wrap it up!”

“No... no problem!” I called to her, breathlessly, and then Anton reached up and pinched one nipple through the satin of my wedding dress, and I came for him. He held me tight and I felt him smile against my temple as Sadie ran back inside.

“I... I thought you wanted to be the only one to see my face...” I panted as I came down from the high.

He smiled at me, almost insolent. “I said starting.” I poked him in the shoulder and he laughed. “Come, my dear. Our audience awaits.”

“Was that double entendre intentional?” I demanded. “I'm not sure I want to come with my mom watching.”

He laughed again. “Maybe. Do you trust me?”

I answered without hesitation. “Yes.”

He held out his arm. “Then allow me, Mrs. Waters.”

The little vibe's buzzing subsided, but not entirely. I sighed at him, exasperated. “With pleasure, Mr. Waters,” I said, placing my hand on his arm.

“I know,” he said, and together we walked back to our wedding, side by side.

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