Deviating from the original plot

3

“What?!” Evelyn exclaimed, taken aback, as Victoria and Celeste slipped away, hand in hand, laughing and disappearing into the moonlit garden.

Alone, Evelyn shook her head with an amused sigh, glancing after them. “Figures…” She laughed quietly to herself.

Meanwhile, the newlyweds ran deeper into the garden, the twinkling lights and soft petals around them creating a perfect, secluded world of their own. Celeste paused beneath a flowering arbour, pulling Victoria close. “I’ve been waiting for this moment,” she whispered.

Victoria’s eyes softened, heart racing. “Me too,” she murmured, pressing her forehead against Celeste’s.

The two shared a quiet, tender kiss, the laughter of the party fading behind them.

Under the flowering arbour, the air was thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and the faint sweetness of crushed petals beneath their feet. Moonlight filtered through the lattice of vines overhead, painting silver patterns across their skin. The distant music and laughter of the reception felt a world away, as if the garden itself had conspired to give them this stolen pocket of time.

Celeste’s hands slid up Victoria’s back, fingers finding the delicate row of pearl buttons that fastened the wedding gown. Each button slipped free, and the silk sighed apart, baring the warm skin of Victoria’s spine inch by inch.

Celeste eased the gown from Victoria’s shoulders. It pooled at her feet like spilled moonlight, leaving her in nothing but delicate ivory lace lingerie and the flush that rose across her chest. Victoria’s hands were already tugging at the strings of Celeste’s dress, pulling it down with impatient reverence. The fabric slipped away, and suddenly there was only warm skin and warmer breath between them.

They stumbled the few steps to the stone bench tucked beneath the arbor, half-hidden by cascading wisteria. Celeste sat first, drawing Victoria down to straddle her lap.

Celeste’s mouth found the column of Victoria’s throat, teeth grazing lightly before her tongue soothed the sting. Victoria arched, her fingers threading into Celeste’s loosened hair, tugging just enough to draw a low, approving hum from deep in Celeste’s chest. The sound vibrated against Victoria’s pulse, sending a fresh rush of heat straight between her thighs.

Celeste’s hands settled on Victoria’s hips, thumbs tracing the thin lace edge of her knickers. She pulled back just far enough to look at her wife flushed, lips swollen from kisses, eyes dark with want.

“You’re exquisite,” Celeste whispered, reverent.

Victoria answered with a shaky laugh that melted into a gasp as Celeste’s mouth returned to her skin, lower this time, tracing the line of her collarbone, the soft swell above the lace cups of her bra.

Celeste’s lips brushed lower, slow and deliberate, painting a trail of heat across the curve of Victoria’s breast. She paused at the edge of lace, breath ghosting over the hardened peak straining against the delicate fabric. She hooked her fingers beneath the cup and tugged it down, baring one breast to the cool night air.

Victoria’s breath stuttered. Moonlight spilled over her skin and the flushed rose of her nipple, and Celeste’s eyes darkened at the sight.

“Perfect,” she murmured, reverent, before her mouth closed over the tight bud.

The first slow pull of her lips tore a soft moan from Victoria’s throat. Celeste’s tongue circled, flicked, then soothed with a flat, wet stroke that made Victoria’s hips jerk forward involuntarily. Heat pooled low in her belly, liquid and urgent. She clutched at Celeste’s shoulders.