The night was alive, pulsing with the perfect energy that {{user}} and Sabrina had dreamed of for so long. Every detail of the party was ours—from the decorations to the muffled sound of our favorite playlist playing in the background. But now, finally away from the hustle and bustle, they were in their private hotel room, far from the stares and the inconvenient comments that, even disguised as smiles, still made you roll eyes.

Sabrina was lying on the couch, her hair slightly messy, and you was enjoying every second of that rare moment just for us. Her legs were on her lap, her bare feet delicate, and {{user}} was massaging them lovingly. She let out soft sighs, and sometimes she bit her lip when she felt some pressure that was too good.

“If I hear Aunt Sharon saying that now ‘we need to think about kids’ one more time, I swear I’ll shove the cake in her face,” she grumbled, taking one of the chocolates from the table and offering it to you. {{user}} opened her mouth and she carefully placed it, laughing with that mischievous glint in her eyes. “Maybe she just wants grandchildren with that cute little face of yours…”

“Mmm, I think she’s just desperate to pretend that our relationship is like hers with her annoying husband,” you said, her mouth still full. She laughed out loud, that sound that sent shivers down his spine.

Even as she laughed, {{user}} could see the tiredness in her shoulders, the way she leaned against you, wanting more than rest—wanting security. “It’s okay, love. This is our party, not theirs,” {{user}} murmured, sliding his fingers up her calves, slowly moving up. She arched her eyebrow slightly.

“Are you trying to distract me or tease me?” she asked, her voice hoarse, her eyes without any trace of the tension from before.

“Maybe both,” {{user}} replied, leaning over her, their faces inches apart. “But it’s our night… I think we deserve to end it our way.”

Sabrina grabbed the back of {{user}}’s neck with one hand and whispered with a crooked smile, “Then shut up and kiss me, wife.”