MasukMorning sunlight streamed softly through the vast glass windows of the Thompson estate, warm and golden-the kind of light that felt like a blessing. The reception had ended only hours ago, yet the house still hummed with traces of last night's laughter, applause, and tears of joy.Clarisse was the first to stir awake.She blinked her eyes, adjusting to the light, and then smiled slowly because there he was.It was Saben Thompson, sleeping beside her, the sheets draped low over his hips, his arm stretched possessively over her waist, even in sleep. The morning light softened his usually sharp jawline, and for the first time in a long while, his features looked … peaceful. Young. Alive.She gently stroked his cheek.She whispered to herself, "We're married," still half in disbelief.As though hearing her, Saben’s eyes opened — slow, warm, heavy-lidded.“Good morning, Mrs. Thompson,” he murmured, voice deliciously rough.Clarisse's heart skipped a beat.“You sound dangerous in the morni
The pressure relented and she leaned up, sputtering slightly but not as worried as she was when he held her. His hand slid to the front of her dress and roughly groped her small breasts as she continued to slide her mouth up and down.She leaned down further, feeling more confident than the first few times Saben asked her for this but still unsure. She looked up at him, bobbing faster now, letting his thick head just touch her throat and pausing there before sliding back up."Uhhhh keep going!" he groaned. His grasp on her breast became tighter, bordering on painful before letting up as he reached down and started pumping himself. Helen leaned back and drew in deeply from her nose, blinking her eyes and thinking how her makeup likely looked a wreck now.Keeping her mouth on him, she looked up to find Saben's intense lust-filled gaze on her. The intensity was shocking at times. Her husband usually was so gentle and quick to laugh, but in times like these, there was a hardness to his fe
Her words felt like a vow sealed not by ceremony, but by the beating of her heart. Saben exhaled shakily, overwhelmed, his hand rising to cradle her cheek. His thumb brushed against her skin with the reverence of a man who had lost her once and never intended to lose her again."Clarisse…" he murmured, as though her name alone was a prayer.She leaned into his touch, the warmth of his palm and the steady strength in his eyes drawing her in. The world around them faded - the music outside, the soft hum of celebration, even the glow of their wedding suite - until all she could feel was him. His breath. His nearness. His love.She reached out for him slowly, her hand going to his chest, feeling the rapid thrum beneath the suit. His heart was racing. For her. Always for her.He caught her hand gently, pulling it against him, lowering his head until his lips hovered just above hers. His voice dropped to a rough whisper.“You have no idea what you do to me.”Her breath caught. His forehead
She paused, letting her gaze sweep over Saben and Clarisse, who stood hand in hand, their eyes locked on one another. "Clarisse, you've brought a calm to our Saben's life that none of us dared hope for. You've given him peace, laughter, and a home for his heart. And Saben… my boy, you've chosen wisely. You've chosen love, and you've chosen to stay-as a man and as a partner. For that, I am proud beyond words."Applause drifted throughout the garden, genuine and deep, amidst the clinking of glasses as old friends and family nodded, some with tears shining in their eyes.Then Teresa Thompson, Saben’s mother, spoke. Her voice was soft but unyielding. “Love is not measured by the grandeur of gestures, nor the jewels, nor applause. Love is measured by the quiet moments: the times when you choose one another despite fear, despite doubt, despite every obstacle that life throws in your path. Today, I celebrate the love that my son and Clarisse have chos
Saben's throat closed. He blinked hard, fighting back tears.Then it was his turn."Clarisse Campbell-you were my calm in the chaos. When the world judged me, you believed. When I lost everything, you reminded me what truly mattered. You saw the man beneath the empire-and loved him anyway. Today, before our families, before the heavens, I promise to never stop choosing you. You are not just my heart-you are my forever."Smiling warmly, the officiant said, "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."Saben lifted her veil. Their eyes met — and with a trembling breath, he whispered, “Finally.”Their lips touched, and it was like the first light of dawn after some endless night.Prolonged applause thundered across the garden. Wendy clapped her hands together, crying and laughing all at once.“Oh, my boy,” she murmured, “you did it.”The ReceptionEvening fell,
Morning sunlight spilled through the tall windows at the Thompson estate, washing everything in soft gold-the kind of glow that made the air feel sacred, as though heaven itself had come down to witness the day.After months of waiting, heartbreak, and hope, the day of the wedding had come.Inside the bridal suite, Clarisse Campbell stood before a full-length mirror, the delicate lace of her gown shimmering like moonlight. Her hair fell in soft waves, pinned with pearl clips that caught the light each time she moved. The gown hand-stitched from Milan flowed around her like poetry, a symbol of every tear, prayer, and promise that had led her here.Eliana Thompson-Wolfe, resplendent in a champagne gown, readjusted the wedding veil and smiled through misty eyes. "You look like a dream," she whispered, her voice trembling.Clarisse laughed softly. “You’re just saying that because you love me.”Eliana shook her head, the corner of her lips curving upwards. “No. I’m saying it because I've







