Chapter 19 Wedding crashers
Wedding Crashers - Steamy Chapter (18+)
Content Warning: This chapter contains explicit sexual content intended for mature audiences only.
The wedding crashers. The label felt like a lifetime ago, a playful disguise for two hearts on the run. What started as a reckless escape from their respective heartbreaks had morphed, slowly, intoxicatingly, into stolen glances that spoke volumes, lingering touches that sparked fire, and a raw, undeniable chemistry that crackled between them like electricity. It wasn't just physical; it was a soul-deep recognition, a feeling of finally coming home.
After the third reception they'd daringly infiltrated, they found themselves back at the hotel, the elevator ride a crucible of unspoken desires. The champagne had certainly lowered their inhibitions, but it was the profound emotional connection, the one that had been building with every shared laugh and knowing look all evening, that finally shattered their carefully constructed walls.
"Your room or mine?"
Greyson's voice, a low rumble, barely cut through the hum of the ascending elevator.
"Mine,"
Cassie whispered back, her heart a frantic drum against her ribs as she fumbled with her key card, fingers suddenly clumsy with anticipation.
The door clicked shut, sealing them in. The pretense, the playful charade, crumbled. They stood facing each other in the dim, filtered light from the curtains, both acutely aware they were about to cross a threshold. There would be no turning back from this.
"Are you sure about this?"
Greyson asked, taking a step closer, his hand rising, hesitant yet resolute, to cup her face. His touch was gentle, reverent.
"I've never been more sure of anything," Cassie breathed, leaning into his warmth, her eyes locked with his.
The kiss that followed was a supernova, an explosion of weeks of suppressed longing, unleashed in one breathtaking moment. Greyson's hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer still as Cassie pressed herself against him, feeling the solid, comforting heat of his chest through his dress shirt. She tasted the lingering champagne on his lips, but beneath it, something uniquely him an intoxicating blend that made her head spin, her every nerve alight.
" Cassie," he murmured against her mouth, his voice raw, thick with a desire that mirrored her own. "I've wanted this for so long."
Her fingers, eager and trembling, fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, a desperate need to feel his skin against hers consuming her. "Then why did we wait?" she whispered, nipping playfully at his lower lip, a spark of mischief in her eyes.
" I was an idiot," he confessed, backing her slowly toward the bed, his hands gliding down her sides to rest on her hips, pulling her flush against him. "Because I was scared of ruining what we had, this..."
"And now?" she asked, her dress already sliding from her shoulders, the delicate fabric pooling at her feet as his fingers, surprisingly deft, found the zipper.
"Now I'm more scared of not having you," he admitted, his eyes dark with unbridled want as he drank in the sight of her, her body now revealed in delicate lace. His breath hitched.
When skin finally met skin, a collective gasp escaped them both. The contact was electric, a jolt that went straight to their core. Greyson's hands roamed her body with a reverence that made her tremble, mapping every curve as if committing her to memory. His lips followed the path of his hands, leaving a searing trail of fire down her throat to the hollow between her breasts.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin, each word a devotion. "So perfect."
Cassie arched beneath him, her hands gripping his shoulders, desperate to pull him closer still as he lavished attention on her body. Every kiss, every caress, sent waves of pure, unadulterated pleasure through her, building a white-hot heat that threatened to consume her completely.
"Greyson, please," she gasped, her hips instinctively rising to meet his as he finally settled between her thighs, a soft groan escaping him.
"I know, baby," he soothed, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, of savoring this moment. "I've got you."
When he finally joined with her, a collective cry escaped them both at the exquisite sensation of their bodies becoming one. He stilled for a moment, his forehead pressed against hers, allowing them both to adjust to the profound feeling of being completely connected, soul to soul, body to body.
"Okay?" he asked, his voice a tight whisper, a tremor running through him.
"More than okay," she breathed, her hips rolling in a way that made him groan, a deep, guttural sound of pure pleasure. "Don't stop."
What followed was a dance as ancient as time itself, their bodies moving together in perfect, primal synchronization. Every thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through them both, building toward something far greater, far more intense than either of them had ever experienced before.
Greyson's hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer still as she wrapped her legs around him, drawing him deeper, consuming him. The room filled with the sounds of their escalating passion—breathless moans, whispered endearments, and the rhythmic creaking of the hotel bed, a testament to their abandon.
"Look at me," he commanded softly, his pace quickening as she tightened around him, an exquisite squeeze that nearly brought him undone. "I want to see you."
Cassie's eyes fluttered open, hazy with desire, meeting his gaze as the tension coiled tighter and tighter within her. The intensity in his eyes was overwhelming, filled with a raw, primal desire and something deeper, something profoundly tender, that made her heart race, utterly captivated.
"I'm so close," she whimpered, her nails digging into the skin of his back, a delicious friction.
"Let go for me," he urged, his thumb finding that sensitive bundle of nerves between them, a masterful touch. "I want to feel you come apart, completely."
The dual sensation of his skilled touch and deep, penetrating thrusts sent her hurtling over the edge. She cried out his name, a desperate, joyful sound, as waves of pure pleasure crashed over her, her body convulsing beneath him, shattered and rebuilt in a single, magnificent peak.
The sight and feel of her profound release triggered his own. With a hoarse, ragged cry, he buried himself deep inside her, his body shuddering as he found his own completion, a release that shook him to his core.
They lay tangled together afterward, hearts pounding a shared rhythm, bodies slick with sweat, the scent of their passion filling the air. Greyson pressed gentle, possessive kisses to her temple as they slowly, deliciously, caught their breath.
"That was…" Cassie began, but words utterly failed her. There were no words to encompass what they had just shared.
"I know," he said, understanding perfectly, his voice raspy. "Give me a few minutes, and we'll do it again."
She laughed, the sound breathless, utterly satisfied. "Is that a promise?"
"Oh, that's definitely a promise, Mrs. Christianson," he said, already stirring against her thigh, a playful yet resolute glint in his eyes. "We have all night, and I plan to worship every single inch of you."
True to his word, as soon as their breathing had returned to a semblance of normal, his hands began to wander again. This time, he took his time, exploring her body with a methodical, almost scientific precision that had her writhing beneath him in renewed ecstasy.
His mouth blazed a fiery trail down her body, pausing to tease sensitive spots, leaving a trail of goosebumps and gasps in its wake. When he finally settled between her thighs, his tongue replacing his fingers, she thought she might genuinely die from the sheer, overwhelming pleasure.
"Greyson," she moaned, her hands fisting in his hair as he worked her with skillful, relentless strokes, bringing her closer and closer to the brink.
He hummed against her, the vibration sending another jolt of exquisite pleasure through her. She was already so exquisitely sensitive from their first encounter that it didn't take long for him to bring her to the edge again, her body humming with anticipation.
"Please," she begged, her hips bucking frantically against his mouth. "I need you inside me."
He lifted his head, his lips glistening, evidence of his devotion, of her, coating his mouth. "Not yet," he said with a wicked, predatory grin. "I want to taste you when you come."
The potent combination of his teasing words and his relentless, skilled attention pushed her over the edge once more. She cried out, her body trembling violently as he worked her through another intense, shattering climax, her world reduced to pure sensation.
Only when she was boneless and gasping, her body quivering with aftershocks, did he slide up her body, entering her once more with a deep, guttural groan of satisfaction, a triumphant sound.
"You taste like heaven," he murmured against her ear, his voice rough with emotion, his hips beginning a slow, torturous rhythm.
This time, they moved together with languid intensity, savoring every exquisite sensation, every friction. Cassie's legs wrapped around his waist as she met his thrusts, their bodies finding a perfect, timeless rhythm that seemed to go on forever, an endless ebb and flow.
"I love the way you feel around me," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion and profound desire. "Like you were made for me."
"Maybe I was," she replied, her lips finding his neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses there. "Maybe we were made for each other."
The thought sent a sudden, fierce surge of possessiveness through him, and his pace quickened, becoming more urgent, more demanding. "Mine," he growled against her throat, the word a delicious command. "Tell me you're mine."
"Yours," she gasped, her nails raking deliciously down his back, leaving faint, temporary marks. "All yours."
They moved together with increasing urgency, a crescendo of passion, the headboard banging rhythmically against the wall as they completely lost themselves in each other, in the raw, beautiful intimacy of their union. When climax claimed them this time, it was together, a simultaneous explosion, their cries of release echoing through the room as they shattered, exquisitely, completely, in each other's arms.
Hours later, as the first delicate fingers of dawn began to creep through the windows, they lay entwined, their breathing finally even, their hearts slowly returning to a normal rhythm. They lay there, silently marveling at the profound, unexpected magic that had just unfolded between them.
"I didn't expect…" Cassie began, tracing idle patterns on Greyson's chest, her voice soft, still heavy with sleep and wonder.
"Neither did I," he replied, pressing a tender kiss to the top of her head. "But I'm not sorry, not for a single moment."
"Good," she murmured, already drifting off to sleep again, utterly safe and content in his strong, warm arms. "Because I'm not either."
The next morning, the soft sunlight filtered into the room, gently rousing Cassie from a deep, peaceful sleep. She stretched, a luxurious, full-body yawn escaping her, and at first, the sight of Greyson, fast asleep beside her, felt like a perfect, beautiful dream. If it was a dream, it was the best one she’d ever had, a fantasy of being with someone she'd silently, secretly believed she could never have. She took a deep, fortifying breath, sat up, and, wrapping her arms around her shins, rested her chin on her knees, trying to piece together the fragments of the night before.
The memories, vivid and intoxicating, came flooding back: the thrill of wedding crashing, the effervescence of champagne, the way he had looked at her like she was the only person in the entire world, the gentle caress of his hand on her face just before their first real kiss, and the raw, unbridled passion that had followed. Her body still hummed with the lingering memory of his touch, every nerve ending alive, exquisitely sensitive, with the afterglow of their passionate night.
Greyson stirred beside her, waking slowly, a wide, genuine smile spreading across his face as he opened his eyes. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder, then pulled her into his arms, his hands immediately finding familiar territory, skimming possessively over her bare skin.
"Good morning, beautiful," he murmured, his voice still husky from sleep, a delicious rumble against her ear.
Cassie looked at him, a confusion simmering beneath the warmth already spreading through her body in response to his touch. It wasn't just about the night before; there was something else, something she couldn't quite grasp.
"Christianson?" she began, a question in her tone.
"Honey?" he replied, his smile unwavering.
"What the hell happened last night, and why are you calling me honey?" A playful exasperation entered her voice, though her heart pounded with a nascent excitement.
"Lift your left hand."
She did, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Why do I have a ring on?"
His smile widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We're married, honey."
"What?" The single word was a bewildered gasp.
Cassie stared at the simple, elegant gold band on her finger, her mind reeling, trying to catch up. Then, the fragments of the night before, the truly insane ones, clicked into place: the last wedding they'd crashed, the surprisingly convincing Elvis impersonator, the way Greyson had gotten down on one knee, a ring somehow procured from the hotel gift shop, the dizzying rush of champagne and sheer, reckless joy.
"Oh my word," she whispered, her hand flying to her mouth, a mix of disbelief and a strange, thrilling elation. "We actually did it. We got married by an Elvis impersonator in a chapel that looked like it was straight out of Vegas."
"The best bad decision we've ever made," Greyson declared, his smile widening further as he pulled her closer, his arousal already evident against her hip, a warm, undeniable presence. "Though I have to say, 'Mrs. Christianson' has a pretty nice ring to it."
"This is insane," Cassie said, but she was smiling too, a bright, genuine smile, her initial panic giving way to something that felt suspiciously like pure, unadulterated joy. "We've known each other for less than a week, and we just got married while drunk on champagne and bad decisions."
"The best relationships start with bad decisions, wouldn't you say?" Greyson countered, nuzzling her neck in a way that sent shivers of renewed desire through her. "And technically, we've known each other much longer than a week. We just weren't paying attention, or maybe, we just weren't ready."
His lips found that sensitive spot behind her ear, the one he'd discovered the night before, and she couldn't suppress a soft, involuntary moan.
"My sister is going to kill me," Cassie said, though she made no move to pull away from his embrace. Instead, she arched into him, her body already craving more of his touch, more of him.
"Meagan's going to say 'I told you so'," Greyson chuckled, his hands beginning their familiar, tantalizing wander. "She's been trying to get us together for months."
"Wait, what?" Cassie pulled back, albeit reluctantly, to look at him, though his hands never stopped their gentle, insistent exploration. "What do you mean she's been trying to get us together?"
"Why do you think you were always mysteriously busy when I came by the office?" Greyson's eyes sparkled with mischievous amusement. "Why do you think she practically shoved her ticket to this wedding into my hands?" His thumb brushed over her nipple, making her gasp, a shiver running through her. "My sneaky, manipulative sister has been playing matchmaker, and we, my dear Mrs. Christianson, fell right into her trap."
"That sneaky" Cassie started, but Greyson silenced her with a kiss that quickly deepened, becoming more passionate, more demanding, sealing their unexpected union.
"Are you happy?" he asked when they finally broke apart, his expression suddenly serious, thoughtful, even as his hands continued their intimate caresses, exploring her curves.
Cassie looked at him—truly looked at him—and in that moment, she realized that despite the glorious chaos of the past few days, despite the utterly unconventional way they'd ended up here, in this hotel room, with a ring on her finger… she was happy. Happier than she'd been in years.
"Yeah," she said softly, a profound certainty in her voice. "I am. Are you?"
"I'm terrified," he admitted, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns on her skin that made her shiver, but not from cold. "But I'm also the happiest I've been since before everything fell apart with Viv. You make me feel like myself again, like I can breathe."
"So what do we do now?" Cassie asked, idly playing with the ring on her finger, while simultaneously running her free hand down his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath her fingertips.
"Now we figure out how to make this work," Greyson said, his voice filled with a quiet, resolute determination as he gently rolled her beneath him, claiming her. "We take it one day at a time, one blissful moment at a time, and we see where this crazy, beautiful thing takes us."
"If it doesn't work out?" A hint of vulnerability, a flicker of doubt, entered her tone.
"Then at least we'll have had this," he said, gesturing to the intimate space between them, to the warmth, the connection, before capturing her lips in another searing kiss, one that promised everything. "This moment where everything felt possible, where we felt truly alive."
Cassie smiled against his lips, already feeling the familiar, irresistible heat building between them, a warmth that promised blissful oblivion. "I love you, you know that?"
"I love you too, Mrs. Christianson," he said, positioning himself at her entrance, his body a perfect fit against hers. "Now, what do you say we celebrate our marriage properly?"
"I say we have a few more hours before we have to face the real world," Cassie replied, pulling him down for another deep kiss as he entered her with a low groan of satisfaction, their bodies melding perfectly. "Let's make the absolute most of them."
As they lost themselves in each other once again, the morning sun streaming through the windows, painting the room in golden hues, neither of them could have predicted that their story would start with such beautiful, exhilarating chaos. But sometimes, the best love stories, the most profound ones, begin with the most unexpected, wild plot twists, and theirs was just getting started.
The room filled once more with the symphony of their passion as they made love with the desperate intensity of newlyweds, their bodies moving together in perfect, sensual harmony, celebrating their unexpected, yet utterly perfect, union in the most intimate way possible.