The reception overflowed with joy and laughter—two families bound together at last. Zoe was surrounded by love: her relatives, her closest friends, her best friend Bea, and her team from Holloway & Brand. Noah, Steven, and Jenny tried to hold themselves together, only to break into tears the moment Zoe walked down the aisle, their emotions spilling out as the surprise unfolded perfectly for Stacy. Across the room stood Stacy's entire family, faces glowing with pride and happiness.
Zoe's parents were not there beside her on this day. They had been taken too soon by an accident that still echoed in her heart. Yet she felt them with her—steady, present, alive in every breath she took. She could no longer walk through life with them, but today marked something just as powerful: she now had a family of her own. And at its center was Stacy—her wife.
The happiness didn't end with the last toast or the final dance. After champagne, laughter, and eating until their stomachs ached, they found themselves slipping away from the noise and into the quiet of their room.
They stopped just outside the door, still laughing, still breathless, the kind of happiness neither of them had dared to expect only days ago.
"I still can't believe I married the hottest CEO of Holloway & Brand," Zoe said, smiling as she wrapped her arms around Stacy's neck.
"Neither do I," Stacy replied, her voice softer now as she slid her arms around Zoe's waist. "I thought I'd lost you forever. And now—Zoe Rivera of Holloway & Brand is officially Zoe Holloway."
Zoe lifted a brow. "Who said I'm taking your surname?"
Stacy pulled back slightly, confusion flashing across her face. "So you didn't list it on the marriage certificate? And wait—how did you even file it? I wasn't there to sign anything."
Zoe smirked. "Are you forgetting that your dad—our dad—is Richard Holloway?"
Stacy laughed, shaking her head. "Right. Impossible isn't in his vocabulary."
"But," Zoe added, her tone softening, "as a wedding gift—and because I know how possessive you are—I took your surname."
Stacy smiled, her eyes warming. "Really? But whatever you want is—"
She didn't get to finish.
Zoe lifted a finger, gently silencing her. Then she leaned in, her lips brushing close as she whispered, "Don't make your Mrs. Zoe Holloway wait any longer. The bed is already waiting for us."
She pulled back just enough to meet Stacy's gaze, biting her lower lip—soft, deliberate, and unmistakably teasing.
Stacy smirked, her eyes locking onto Zoe's with a hunger that had been building for far too long. Without a word, she closed the distance between them, her hands sliding up Zoe's sides as their lips crashed together in a fierce, desperate kiss. Tongues tangled immediately, exploring each other's mouths with raw need, tasting the faint salt of anticipation on their breaths.
Stacy stepped forward, guiding Zoe inside the dimly lit room, her hands firm at the small of Zoe's back, grounding her as if afraid she might vanish like a dream upon waking.
Months apart had carved hollows in their hearts, and now every touch was a reclamation.
Zoe's body met the wall just beyond the threshold, but Stacy caught her before she could stumble, wrapping strong arms around her waist, pulling her flush against her. The heat between them was electric, magnetic—an invisible current pulling them closer, tighter, deeper. Zoe arched into her, fingers tangling in Stacy's hair, breath coming in short, desperate gasps. When they finally broke the kiss for air, their foreheads stayed pressed together, eyes closed, noses brushing.
"I missed you," Zoe whispered, voice thick.
Stacy smiled—slow, knowing, full of fire. "Show me."
And she did.
Their mouths found each other again, hungrier this time. A tangle of tongues, a war of want, until Stacy's lips trailed down Zoe's jaw, her pulse, then to the slope of her neck. Her hands slid up Zoe's sides, tracing the curve of her hips, the dip of her waist, before finding the hidden zipper of her dress. With deliberate slowness, she lowered it, inch by inch, until the fabric slipped free, cascading like water to the floor. Zoe stood before her in nothing but a lace bra and matching panties—barefoot, breathing hard, utterly radiant.
Stacy's gaze darkened, tracing every inch of her. "I loved seeing you in that wedding dress," she murmured, voice husky with desire. "But God, baby, I love this more. Just you. All of you."
Zoe exhaled sharply, arousal spiraling low in her belly. And then she mirrored Stacy's movements—unzipping her dress, peeling it away, unhooking her bra with trembling fingers. She pulled Stacy into another kiss, hungrier than before—lips parting, tongues meeting in a slow, deep dance of reunion.
Stacy's hands roamed—over Zoe's shoulders, down her spine, cupping her ass and lifting her slightly, pressing her closer. Her mouth left Zoe's only to trail down her neck, lips and teeth grazing sensitive skin, leaving behind a trail of heat. One hand reached behind, unclasping Zoe's bra with practiced ease. The garment slipped away, and Stacy pulled back just enough to look.
Zoe's chest rose with each breath, her nipples tight from want. Stacy's breath caught. There was something sacred in this moment—the soft glow of lamplight on Zoe's skin, the curls framing her face, the way her body trembled under her gaze.
"Oh, sweetheart..." Stacy whispered. "You're stunning."
Zoe smiled, shy and fierce all at once. Then, slowly, she reached up and pulled the pin from her hair. Dark, curly waves tumbled free, cascading over her shoulders and down her back. She slicked her hair back with her hand—and Stacy felt it, a jolt straight to her core.
"Fuck," she breathed, biting her lip.
Zoe stepped closer, took one of Stacy's hands in hers, and brought it to her face. She kissed each fingertip and suck them after, slow and deliberate, then guided the hand down—across her jaw, along her collarbone, down to her breast. She pressed Stacy's palm there, encouraging her to squeeze gently, to feel the weight, the warmth.
Then lower.
Over her stomach—flat, quivering—until her fingers brushed the edge of her panties. Zoe's breath hitched as she guided Stacy's hand under the fabric, sliding it through damp curls until she let her fingers found her clit. She moaned softly as she guide Stacy's fingers to rub it gently, the circular motions made her knees weak.
"These are all yours, baby," Zoe whispered, eyes locked with Stacy's, lips parted. "I'm all yours. Always."
Stacy groaned, drunk on her, on the scent of her, on the way her body responded to every touch. She pulled Zoe into a searing kiss, sucking on her tongue, devouring her. The taste of her—sweet and deep—sent sparks through her veins.
When Zoe pulled back, her eyes are dark, unfocused with need. "Let me make you scream my name tonight, my dear wife," she whispers, her tone a mix of command and plea. Gently, she eases Stacy's fingers from her core, bringing them to her own mouth. And oh—the taste of her. Sweet, salty, a liquid confession. Zoe laves each digit with slow, languid sucks, her gaze locked on Stacy's, swallowing every shiver she elicits.
Stacy bites her lip, a sound caught in her throat—a whimper, a moan, a prayer. "Zoe," she breathes, the syllable trembling with all the love and hunger she's ever felt.
When Zoe released her fingers, she kissed her again—deeply, sharing the mingled flavors of their desire. Then, guiding Stacy backward, she pushed her gently onto the bed.
Stacy fell onto the soft sheets, propped on her elbows, looking at Zoe who is standing in front of her. Her body was a poem—curved and strong, trembling with need. Zoe hovered over her, kissing a slow path down Stacy's neck, between her breasts, lingering to suck each nipple once more—hard enough to draw a whimper—before continuing lower. Her lips brushed Stacy's stomach, tongue dipping into her navel, making Stacy squirm.
"Zoe, please..." Stacy begged, her hands fisting the sheets. Zoe's kisses trailed to her hips, then inner thighs, nipping lightly at the tender skin. She spread Stacy's legs wide, exposing her glistening core, the folds pink and inviting, clit peeking out swollen and ready.
Hooking her fingers into the waistband of Stacy's thong—the last barrier—Zoe slid it down slowly, inch by inch, watching as Stacy's arousal strung a thin line of wetness. Discarding it, Zoe leaned in, her breath hot against Stacy's core. She started with soft kisses along the inside of her thighs, building the anticipation until Stacy's hips lifted off the bed. Finally, Zoe's mouth found her folds, lips pressing a firm kiss right over her entrance before her tongue delved in.
She licked upward in one long, flat stroke, savoring the musky sweetness coating her tongue. Stacy cried out,
"Oh fuck, Zoe! Yes, baby!" Her scream echoed in the room as Zoe's tongue circled her clit, slow and deliberate, flicking the sensitive nub with just the right pressure. Zoe's hands gripped Stacy's thighs, holding her open as she feasted, alternating between broad laps and pinpoint sucks on the clit. Stacy's body trembled, her core clenching around nothing, juices flowing freely onto Zoe's chin.
Zoe slid two fingers inside Stacy's tight heat, curling them to stroke that spongy spot deep within while her mouth worked the clit relentlessly. Stacy's screams grew louder, hips grinding against Zoe's face.
"Aaahhh! Yeah, that's so good—don't stop!" She gripped the bed sheets so hard her knuckles whitened, back arching as waves of pleasure built. Zoe hummed against her, the vibration sending Stacy spiraling closer to the edge.
Sensing her wife's impending release, Zoe increased the pace—fingers thrusting faster, tongue lashing the clit in quick, firm strokes. Stacy shattered, her core spasming around Zoe's fingers, walls pulsing as orgasm ripped through her.
"Zoe! Fuck, I'm cumming!" she wailed, thighs clamping around Zoe's head, body convulsing in ecstasy. Zoe didn't stop, drawing out every aftershock until Stacy collapsed, panting and spent..
But Zoe wasn't done.
She sat up, slowly lowering her own panties, letting Stacy watch every inch. When they were gone, she positioned herself over Stacy, aligning their cores with exquisite precision. The first brush of their overheated centers sent both women gasping.
Then Zoe began to grind—slow, sensual, building the friction with deliberate rolls of her hips. Skin against skin. Heat meeting heat.
Stacy reached up, cupping Zoe's breasts, rolling her thumbs over her nipples as they moved together, lost in the rhythm. Their kisses were messy, hungry, punctuated by moans and broken whispers.
"I love you... Oh fuck!" Zoe murmured between breaths.
"Oh shit baby!" Stacy gasped, her own climax building again.
Stacy's body tensed, her muscles coiling tight as the orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. She held Zoe firmly, nails digging into the soft flesh of her back, pulling her impossibly closer as her core clenched and released in rhythmic spasms. Hot fluid gushed from her core, soaking their intertwined thighs and dripping onto the sheets below.
"Oh fuck, Zoe... I'm cumming so hard!" Stacy cried out, her voice breaking into a guttural moan that echoed through the room. Waves of ecstasy pulsed through her, making her hips jerk erratically against Zoe's, prolonging the bliss until she was left trembling and breathless.
Zoe smiled down at her, eyes gleaming with satisfaction and lingering hunger. She leaned in, capturing Stacy's panting lips in a deep, possessive kiss. Their tongues slid together lazily at first, savoring the shared saltiness of sweat and arousal, but soon the kiss deepened, turning fervent as Zoe poured her own desire into it. They remained locked in that intimate position, cores still pressed close, slick with Stacy's release, the heat between them radiating like a furnace.
But Stacy wasn't one to leave her wife wanting. As her breathing steadied, she shifted her body slightly, angling her hips to create just enough space without breaking their connection entirely. Her hand trailed down Zoe's side, fingers tracing the curve of her hip before dipping lower. She slipped her finger between Zoe's thighs, brushing against the swollen folds that were drenched and quivering from their earlier grinding. Zoe hitched sharply, a sharp 'Ohhhh!' escaping her lips as Stacy's fingertips grazed her entrance, teasing the sensitive entrance before pushing inside.
Stacy curled her finger immediately, seeking out that spongy spot deep within Zoe's core—the one that always made her unravel. She stroked it with slow, deliberate glides, feeling Zoe's walls flutter and tighten around her. Zoe's head fell back, a low moan building in her throat as pleasure sparked from her core.
"Baby... yes, right there," she gasped, her body arching into the touch. Stacy added a second finger, thrusting them in tandem while her thumb found Zoe's clit, brushing over the hard nub in firm circles that sent jolts of electricity racing up Zoe's spine.
Their kiss broke only for Zoe to draw in ragged breaths, but Stacy silenced her with another press of lips, swallowing her whimpers as she worked her fingers faster. The wet sounds of Zoe's core filled the air—schlick, schlick—as Stacy pumped deeper, her palm grinding against Zoe's clit with each motion. Zoe's thighs trembled, clamping around Stacy's hand, her breasts heaving with every desperate inhale.
"Don't stop... fuck, you're gonna make me cum," Zoe pleaded, her voice husky and broken, nails raking down Stacy's arms.
Stacy obliged, twisting her fingers just so, hitting that g-spot with unerring precision while her thumb flicked Zoe's clit relentlessly. Zoe's screams grew louder, her body bucking wildly as the pressure built to an unbearable peak.
"Stacy! Oh god, yes—I'm cumming!" she wailed, her core spasming around Stacy's fingers, walls milking them as a fresh flood of wetness coated Stacy's hand. Zoe shattered, convulsing in Stacy's arms, her cries muffled against Stacy's shoulder as the orgasm ripped through her, leaving her limp and glowing in the afterglow.
They stayed like that for long moments, fingers still buried deep, breaths syncing as they came down together. Stacy withdrew slowly, bringing her slick digits to her lips for a taste and sucked them clean with a satisfied hum.
"I really loved it when you screamed my name,' Zoe whispered, nipping at Stacy's earlobe with a playful grin.
She collapsed against her, breathless, spent.
Stacy held her—close, safe, loved—pulling her down so Zoe's head rested on her chest, her ear over her heart.
They lay like that for long minutes—two bodies entwined, breathing in sync, the only sound the soft rustle of sheets and the occasional sigh.
Outside, the party went on. But here, in this room, there was only warmth. Only love. Only them.
Zoe pressed a lazy kiss to Stacy's collarbone.
"I love you, my wife," she whispered.
Stacy smiled, running her fingers through Zoe's wild curls.
"I love you," she murmured, "Mrs. Holloway."