The groom's older sister

A trolley rolled in, wheels rumbling over the stone threshold. On top sat the three-tier wedding cake, white fondant, delicate piped roses, the little plastic bride and groom standing on the highest layer. The person pushing it was mid-sentence, voice bright and apologetic.

“And here it is!!! Sorry to keep you fol—”

She stopped dead. The trolley halted with a small jolt.

Lauren Caldwell-Reed, Ben’s older sister stood frozen in the doorway, hands still on the handle. Thin-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, dark blonde hair pulled back into a low ponytail with tiny white flowers woven in, light purple one-piece dress hugging her athletic frame. She’d slipped out earlier to deal with the bakery’s delivery mix-up, right before Damian had walked in. Ben had completely forgotten about her in the chaos.

Her green eyes went wide behind the lenses. She took in the scene in pieces: Evie on the altar, wedding dress hiked up around her waist, fingers buried between her legs. Ben right beside her, mouth stuffed with panties. The bridesmaids scattered through the pews, naked or half-naked, grinding desperately against silent, unmoving guests.

Lauren’s hands flew to her mouth. She let go of the trolley; it rolled forward a few inches on its own before stopping against a pew.

She walked down the center aisle on unsteady legs, eyes darting from person to person until they locked on Ben.

“What the fuck is happening here, Benjamin?” Her voice cracked on his full name, the way she only used it when she was scared or furious. “Why the fuck are you holding Evie’s dress up like that? Have you all lost your damn minds?”

Ben wanted to scream at her to run. Get out. Call someone. Anything. But his throat stayed locked, body rigid, hands still bunched in fabric, panties sour and soaked against his tongue. He could only stare back at her, helpless, eyes pleading what his mouth couldn’t say.

Lauren’s gaze snapped to Damian.

He was smiling, smug and satisfied. Lauren’s expression hardened. She was perceptive; always had been. She knew that smile wasn’t innocent. She pointed straight at him.

“You,” she said, voice low and shaking with anger. “Are you the one responsible for all this madness?”

Damian took his hands off Sofia’s hips and clapped, slow, mocking applause.

“Quite the perceptive one, you are. I must admit.” He tilted his head. “But I for one don’t really care about smart women. Women should be dumb and easily controllable.”

That did it.

If there was one thing that set Lauren off, it was anyone insulting her intelligence. Her shoulders squared. She started closing the distance, heels clicking faster down the aisle, fists clenched at her sides.

Damian raised one hand, palm out.

“Freeze.”

Lauren stopped mid-step. One foot hovered an inch off the ground. Her body locked in place, arms half-raised, mouth open on whatever word she’d been about to spit. She couldn’t even blink for a second; then her eyelids fluttered once, but nothing else moved.

Damian didn’t spare her another glance right away. Instead he grabbed Sofia’s hips again, pulled her back onto his cock one more time, and started thrusting hard, fast, punishing strokes that made the table scrape against the floor. Sofia’s body jolted with each one, soft sighs escaping her lips.

“Cum with me,” he ordered through gritted teeth.

Sofia’s back arched. A muffled moan broke from her throat as her pussy clenched around him. Damian groaned, hips slamming forward one final time. He held himself deep, pulsing inside her, filling her up. When he finally pulled out, thick ropes of cum leaked from her stretched pussy, dripping down her inner thighs and onto the stone.

He stepped around to her head, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and wiped his slick cock clean on the dark strands. Then he tucked himself away, zipped up, and patted her cheek.

“Go join the rest of your friends,” he said. “Keep trying to make the audience cum.”

Sofia pushed herself upright on shaky arms, cum still leaking down her legs, and walked off toward the pews without a word, smile never fading.

Only then did Damian turn back to Lauren.

He walked right up to her frozen form, close enough that she would have felt his breath if she could move. He shook his head slowly in her face.

“All you had to do was wait until I was done here before coming back,” he said. “But you just had to be a bitch. You’re too smart for your own good. Don’t worry, I can help with that.”

He smirked, stepping back a pace.

“You’re no modern intelligent woman,” he told her clearly. “You’re actually a dumb, horny cavewoman who’s only good for fucking, eating, shitting, and sleeping. Unfreeze and realize that.”

Lauren’s body jerked once, like a string had been cut. Her raised foot dropped to the floor with a soft thud. She could move again.

At first nothing changed. Then her serious, furious expression cracked. Brows furrowed in confusion. Mouth opened, closed. Her confident stride was gone; knees buckled slightly, forcing her to hunch forward. She looked around the church slowly, head tilting like she was seeing it for the first time, eyes wide, curious, empty of anything sharp or knowing.

One hand came up. She scratched at her scalp with blunt fingers, reckless, pulling a few strands free from the neat ponytail. White flowers tumbled to the floor unnoticed.

Her gaze landed on Damian.

Lust flooded her face instantly, raw, animal, uncomplicated. Her lips parted. A low, guttural sound rolled out of her throat, not words, just a needy grunt.

“Ughhh…”

She took a clumsy step toward him, hands flexing at her sides, hips swaying awkwardly as if she’d forgotten how to walk upright. Another grunt. Deeper this time. Hungry.

Ben watched it all, fists aching from how hard he was squeezing the bunched fabric of Evie’s dress. His sister, smart, sharp, always the one who fixed things, who’d teased him mercilessly growing up but had his back when it mattered was gone. Replaced by this hunched, grunting thing that stared at Damian like he was some piece of tasty meat.

Evie’s finger kept moving between her legs beside him, slow and mechanical now, tears still falling. Her **** smile held.

Damian chuckled low in his throat.

“Much better,” he said.