The Wedding - Reception - Part 3

Charlotte closed her eyes, tilting her head back, letting herself feel the surreal weight of his touch. Her skin tingled as he slid her thong down her legs. She lifted her knees to help him ease it over her heels, his hands lingering at her ankles before letting the fabric fall away.

He stepped close and gently parted her legs. When she opened her eyes, the hunger in his eyes stole her breath.

He kissed her again. She felt the hard press of him through his pants. Warmth pooled low in her stomach. She reached for him, gripping him firmly through the fabric, rubbing him in slow, deliberate strokes.

His groan broke against her mouth.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, still moving her hand.

“You want more?” She murmured.

A corner of his mouth lifted. “You want more!”

His voice brushed against her ear. His teeth grazed her lobe. She shivered and squeezed into him.

He caught her in another fierce kiss before lowering himself down her body. She curled her hands around the back of his neck, letting her hands guide him as she lifted her chest up toward him encouragingly.

He kissed his way down her neck, slow and deliberate. His hands braced against the table as his mouth found her chest. Her breath fractured into soft gasps at the feel of his tongue.

She whimpered in pleasure as his lips teasingly brushed against her nipple before finally taking her breast inside his mouth.

Charlotte let out a low hum in pleasure as his tongue swirled over her. She could feel her nipples harden as he playfully sucked hard on her breasts. He took each in turn into his mouth, sucking and teasing.

When his hand slid between her thighs, her lips reacted before she could think. He traced her gently, watching her face as he did.

“Would you like me to taste you?”

“Yes.”

The stone beneath her back felt cool against her overheated skin. The first touch of his mouth made her inhale sharply.

He moved with patience at first, learning her reactions. Her fingers tightened in his hair as the rhythm built.

“Ooooh. Yessss” she cried out, encouraging him as his tongue pressed harder. Each flick of sensation pulled a soft sound from her; every shift of pressure tightened the coil inside.

He responded immediately, moving his tongue relentlessly against her. She arched and buried herself into him. A soft whimper escaped as she bit her bottom lip. The sensation was intoxicating.

When she could take no more, she let out a long, shuddering moan, gripping him tightly as her body trembled over the edge. Even as she came, he didn’t stop – his tongue moved over her, coaxing every last pulse of pleasure from her body. She grabbed his hair harder, momentarily afraid she was going to rip it out, drawing him in as she let out a soft cry.

When she could breathe again, he rose over her.

She instinctively stretched her fingers out and slid along his hard shaft, teasing him, drawing his moan to a guttural, desperate sound.

“Do you want me…?” she whispered teasingly.

His nod was aggressive in its urgency.

She reached for his belt, un-fastening him quickly, guiding him free. She held him in her hands, slowly stroking him, while enjoying the feeling of power over him, if only temporarily.

She lowered herself with intent, deliberately watching him as she did. His hands tangled in her hair, but he let her set the pace. She teased him just enough to make his control falter.

“Oh my- Holy Fuck Lotti,” he gasped.

The name hit her harder than his touch.

She paused for a moment.

She hadn’t been called that in years.

Not like that.

It wasn’t just desire in his voice. It was memory. It was history. Their history. Something unfinished.

It made her want him more.

She resumed, with more intention. She savoured him – the taste, the closeness. The weight of what the name meant between them.

He groaned again, his hands tangling in her hair, guiding her as she moved, pressing her into him with deliberate pressure. When he finally pulled her up, it wasn’t playful – it was urgent. He lifted her, guiding her against him.

“Ready?” he asked quietly.

She met his eyes. “Always.”

She wrapped her arms around him in a hug, instinctively digging her nails into his back, shivering with delight as he entered her.

Their first movements were slow, almost reverent. Heat replaced hesitation as his hands gripped her tighter. Their breath lost rhythm as their pace continued to build, consuming them. Every thrust into her felt like reclaiming something she had been long denied.

He held her gaze as their tension began to peak. Their bodies pressed closed together, beads of sweat slicked their bodies as she felt the tension inside her tighten until it was almost unbearable.

“Don’t… Stop.” She panted between pumps.

He gave her a slightly, knowing nod, before closing his eyes in fierce determination.

Heat began to rush through her in waves. It started low before pulsing outward. Her back arched without permission. She let out a breathless sound as her muscles seized tight.

She felt him bury his face against her shoulder, a low sound leaving him as his body trembled, hips pressing forward as if he could keep her there. Their bodies felt suspended in that moment, collapsed together, shuddering in pleasure.

They stayed entwined there for a moment, foreheads nestled together, breathing slowly, neither quite ready to move. His lips found hers again – softer but still electric.

“You’re… unbelievable,” she whispered, voice raw, chest heaving.

He smiled, brushing a hand across her cheek. “So are you,” he murmured.

As the cold of the night air began to wash over them, they slowly sat themselves up and dressed, taking care with each movement.

Charlotte finished buttoning her dress back up and flattened her hair down with her fingers as he lingered by the path waiting for her.

“Walk me back?” She asked.

“Of course.”

When they reached the reception, Charlotte noticed the crowd had started to dissipate. Guests had started to depart, while a small crowd continued to dance enthusiastically.

They lingered in the doorway for a moment, taking in the scene, before making their way back to their seats together.

“Wait,” Charlotte nearly shouted.

He paused and turned to her.

“Are you going to give up your last chance to dance with me?”

A smile broke across his face as he strode towards her, offering his hand out to her.

He squeezed her hand gently as she accepted his, his firm grip guiding them back to the dancefloor.

They held each other close, swaying to each song in silence. She felt content – but content had never been the problem between them. It was how easily she let herself unravel with him.

Her fingers brushed his, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“Callum?” she asked quietly, still cuddled against his chest.

“Mmm?”

She hesitated half a second before asking, “Where do we go from here?”

“Do you want to come back to my room tonight?” he asked, voice low.

She paused, searching for the right words.

“Well – yes. But I mean… us. Where do we go from here?”

He tilted his head slightly, catching her gaze.

“I think you and I both know this wasn’t finished.”

As the crowd thinned and the music softened, they moved together through the last moments of the evening, each step a quiet affirmation of what they had shared. Their closeness no longer felt like raw desire – it felt warm, familiar.

Charlotte’s mind was clear at last. She was fully alive in the moment, needing neither words nor thought.