Mia Begs The Best Man For Her Wedding Night Fuck

The villa’s marble floors felt cool under Mia’s bare feet as she padded out of the bedroom, the silk robe whispering against her thighs. In the next room, her husband Jake snored like a chainsaw, dead drunk from the open bar and the endless toasts. She should have been disappointed. Instead, the sound only sharpened the ache between her legs.

The rehearsal dinner two nights ago had started it. Derek—tall, broad-shouldered, the best man—had looked at her like he could see straight through the thin lavender dress she’d worn. One brush of his fingers while they’d practiced the procession had left her cunt throbbing for hours. Tonight, during the reception, those same dark eyes had tracked her across the dance floor while her new brother-in-law slurred through his speech and her own husband drank himself into oblivion.

Now the rest of the wedding party was scattered across the private villas dotting the cliffside resort. Only this one—shared at the last minute because the bride’s sister and her husband needed a place to crash—held four people. Two of them were unconscious. The third was Derek’s wife, Elise, who had taken a sleeping pill and closed the door to the master suite with a polite but firm click. The fourth was Derek, standing at the wet bar in the living room with a crystal tumbler in his hand and the top three buttons of his white dress shirt undone.

Mia stopped at the edge of the lamplight. The silk robe was barely tied. She let it slip open another inch.

Derek’s gaze snapped to her. He didn’t smile. He just stared, the way a wolf stares at something it already owns.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, voice low and rough.

“Jake’s snoring like a freight train.” She moved closer, the robe’s belt loosening with every step until the sides parted completely, revealing the smooth, naked body underneath. Her nipples were already tight. “And I’m soaked.”