Chapter 41
FINN
Iwoke up Saturday morning to Sophie mouthing hot and messy kisses against my shoulder, Daniel on top of her, rutting her into the bed with long, languid thrusts.
I kept my eyes closed, letting the sounds of their pleasure lull me out of sleep, and after they finished each other off, they situated their bodies between my legs and made sure I joined them.
It was a perfect Saturday.
The three of us got dressed quietly, the air in the bedroom thick with anticipation.
Daniel’s fingers fumbled around the knot on his tie so I stepped in to help.
In turn, he did mine, and then the two of us both lost our breath completely when Sophie walked out in her dress.
I’d seen it before, of course, but the sight of her body draped in that rich ivory satin, soft folds clinging to her hips…
“Holy fuck,” Daniel cursed.
I swallowed hard, rubbing the band of my ring with my thumb.
“I can see it now,” he murmured. “You behind her with all that fabric between you.”
Sophie’s cheeks darkened under her blush. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.”
Her stare drifted from Daniel to me, giving both of us a slow and thorough onceover before smiling and tucking her chin against her chest. “The two of you are…I don’t have words.”
“The luckiest men alive, I think,” I said.
Daniel cleared his throat and reached for Sophie’s hand. “We should go.”
She grabbed her flowers out of the fridge, just a few calla lily stems tied together with ribbon that somehow perfectly matched Daniel’s and my suits.
She hadn’t called out the detail, but we’d both noticed.
Just like we’d both noticed the mixed colors in the ties she’d picked out for us, the dark jewel tones in the bracelet around her right wrist that sat so daintily against the bone.
I’d offered to get a limo, but Sophie had vehemently argued against it, and when we stepped out of the house to find one idling at the curb, she stared daggers at me. I raised my hands in surrender, gesturing for her to go to the open back door.
“You’re the one who involved Marshall in your wedding,” I told her.
The car had my brother written all over it, and I found it hard to be angry at the way he’d so casually disregarded everything I’d shared with him about Sophie’s wants for the wedding. At the end of the day, he’d made the decision a limo was what she—what we—deserved, and so a limo it would be.
Tucked safely into the back, Daniel poured all three of us champagne and after the first sip, Sophie’s stubbornness relented. “This isn’t so bad.”
“It’s nice,” Daniel agreed. “I’ll have to thank your brother.”
I pulled out my phone to text him, snapping a candid photo of Sophie staring out the window, flute raised halfway to her mouth, tendrils of hair loose and wavy around her face.
She was a vision, and my heart caught in my throat at the sight of her.
I still waited for the jealousy or the unfairness to set in, but even when Daniel moved to take the seat beside her, resting his hand on her thigh, there was none.
I stretched my legs out, tapping the tip of my shoe against her heel. She angled her head at me and smiled.
My phone buzzed with a reply text from my brother.
Marshall
You deserve it.
See you later today.
I slid my phone back into my pocket and drank my champagne.
It took a little over an hour to get to Santa Ana City Hall, and the place was already bustling with brides who’d had the same idea as Sophie.
She was more beautiful than all of them, and they knew it.
People moved aside as she walked through the halls with authority, heels clicking against the tile floor with every step.
When it was their turn—our turn—the three of us filed into a very nondescript-looking courtroom.
There was a woman at the front of the room behind an oak podium who called us—them—down to the front.
I followed behind, taking a seat close to Daniel while the two of them stood and joined hands.
Sophie gave me her flowers, and I rubbed the petals between my fingers, mentally comparing them to the inside of her thigh.
She was softer.
She smelled better.
The ceremony was quick and simple, and I’d never seen two people more in love than the two of them.
They said their vows—I didn’t dare object—and then Daniel was cleared to kiss his bride.
Still, I waited for the sense of loss to set in, but it never did.
All I found was gratitude and excitement that the two people who meant the most to me meant even more to each other.
What a gift.
Before walking back into the hallway, Sophie took her flowers out of my hand and rose up onto her toes to kiss me.
It was far from friendly, and I ignored the shocked gasp of the officiant in the front of the room.
When she pulled back, Daniel pressed the tops of his knuckles against my chin, turning my face toward him and then he kissed me too.
It was as much a vow as the one they’d just exchanged.
Back in the noisy hallway, Sophie tracked down the woman she’d hired to take photos and we went through all of that.
It only took a couple rounds of protest, of Sophie demanding I join her and Daniel, before the photographer stopped arguing.
I spent the whole afternoon fighting back tears, replaying Marshall’s message in my head every time I doubted myself.
By the time we were back in the limo, I was on the brink of disaster, chasing my tears down with a fresh flute of champagne. Sophie flung herself onto the seat beside me, draping her legs over my thigh so her heels grazed the inside of my calf.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, tucking some too-long hair of mine behind my ears.
“I’m painfully happy,” I admitted. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”
“These are happy tears, then?” She pressed her thumb against the corner of my eye, right below my lashes.
I sniffed, looking at her and finding her own face just as splotchy beneath her makeup, her eyes just as full. “Aren’t yours?”
I swiped my finger along her lower lash line carefully, so as to not ruin her makeup.
“Of course.”
“Of course,” I told her.
She answered me back with a breathy laugh, shifting her stare over her shoulder at Daniel. “Why aren’t you crying? Aren’t you horribly happy?”
“Very,” he murmured, pressing the heel of his hand down between his legs. “But watching the two of you be so sweet together has made me horny and I think that cancels it out.”
I raised Sophie’s chin and gave her an appraising look.
“You should go fuck your husband,” I told her.
Daniel didn’t need to be told twice. He was already working open his belt and his fly, pulling out his cock and stroking it.
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me.”
Sophie finished her drink and crawled onto Daniel’s lap, dress hiked up around her hips.
She had on the skimpiest pair of white lace panties I’d ever seen in my life, and Daniel’s skilled fingers pushed the material to the side before deciding they were in his way.
He fought them off of her legs and tossed them onto the seat beside him.
Sophie sank down onto his lap with a slow circle of her hips and my mouth went positively dry at the sight of them.
Daniel grabbed her dress in his hands, rucking it up higher so her ass was exposed.
“Can you see it?” he asked me, head dropped back against the headrest.
I nodded, licking my lips hungrily before finishing my drink and dropping the flute into the cup holder.
Marshall had gotten us a limo better suited for a dozen people than three, but it meant there was more than enough room to move around.
I found myself prone on the floor between Daniel’s spread legs, my hands braced on his knees and my face buried against the place he and Sophie were joined.
I tongued the taste of her cunt off his shaft, groaning and humping the floor when more of her arousal dripped down onto my lips.
She started to fuck him faster, harder, and I could feel the thick pulse in his shaft when Daniel fucked deep and came inside of her.
Sophie rode out the rest of her pleasure on Daniel’s hand, and when his cum dripped out of her, down the length of his still hard cock, I made sure to lick and suck up as much of it as I could reach.
Sophie came with a breathy little cry, Daniel’s hand over her mouth because none of us were sure if the privacy glass was soundproof or not.
My dick hurt for how hard I was, and I rocked up onto my knees, grabbing Sophie’s panties in one hand and freeing my cock with the other.
I stroked myself rough and hard with the expensive lace, coming all over it with a strangled groan.
I pressed my forehead against Daniel’s knee as the aftershocks rolled through me, then I handed Sophie her soiled panties.
“Put them back on,” I croaked, collapsing against the seat. “Can’t have you going to the reception with your cunt out.”
Sophie’s chest heaved, but she managed her way back into her panties, letting the dress fall into place before she sank down into the seat beside Daniel.
I climbed back into a seat myself, hand still stroking my half-hard cock.
When my own touch turned painful, I let my hand fall limp against the seat.
I closed my eyes and caught my breath, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Instead, I got Daniel’s warm grip around my wrist, my fingers in his mouth, and his tongue doing an indecent thing to clean the spend off my skin.
When he finished, he put my dick back into my pants, fastened my belt, and returned to his seat beside his new wife.
Five minutes later, we pulled up to the building Marshall had gotten Sophie for the reception.
It was an achingly modern thing, Smith probably hated it, with exposed brick and black iron, giant plate glass windows.