Page 65 of Walkoff Wedding

Another nod, and then she breathes, “V-very. Grant, would… you… touch me?”

This time, I can’t stop the groan, the noise low and deep vibrating from the back of my throat, as I drop my forehead against hers and squeeze my eyes tightly shut. “I want to so fucking bad, baby. You have no goddamn idea how badly I want to touch you… I just… I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of the situation.”

I feel her shaking her head, and when I pull back, the serious expression on her face has me momentarily sobering. “You’re not. I want you to, Grant. Nothing in my life has ever just been mine. I want this moment… to be mine. I want to be the one in control. I want to be the one to decide.”

Fuck. My throat is tight with need as a mixture of emotion and desire flickers in her eyes.

Who am I to deny my wife? Especially when I want her more than I need to fucking breathe.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

A beat passes, and she nods. “Yes. I just… Could we go slow? With, you know…?”

Even as she tells me she’s sure, I hear the vulnerability in her words, the tremble in her voice from nerves. I know she’s never done this with a guy before, so I know this is a huge fucking deal to her, and the fact that I’m the one she feels comfortable enough to experience it with has my chest swelling, my heart beating faster than it ever has in my life.

“I know this is fake and we’re only pretending…” she adds before I can respond to her question, and I stop her.

“It’s not all fake. We’re attracted to each other, Addie. We’ve got chemistry off the fucking charts. I think that much is clear. If we’re going to be married, sleeping in the same bed, living our lives together… why can’t we explore something physical between us? If that’s what you wanted and were comfortable with, then I want that with you too.”

“I do,” she murmurs breathlessly. “Want this.”

“Then let me take care of you.” My knee hits the edge of the bed as I slide in beside her, turning to my side. Her back to my front, we’re so close I can feel the heat from her body. The oversized T-shirt she’s wearing has ridden up, exposing her thighs and the curve of her hip. “I need you to do something for me, baby,” I breathe quietly near her ear before slowly dragging my nose down her neck. “Don’t think. Close your eyes and trust your husband. Can you do that?”

I hook my arm around her waist when she nods, her eyes fluttering closed as I tug her back until she’s fitted against my front.

Of course she fits perfectly, as if there was ever the chance that she wouldn’t. She fits me like she was made for me, and I have to swallow down the tight knot of raw need settling in the base of my throat that’s making it hard to breathe.

I remind myself that we’re going slow and moving at Addie’s pace. That this is not only her learning her own body but getting comfortable with someone else touching her.

I’d wait forever if she needed me to. Because she’s worth it.

I never imagined I’d have the privilege of touching her, no expectations that we’d ever do anything like this.

But somehow, I’m the luckiest fucking guy in the world given permission to do so.

I press my lips along the sensitive spot beneath her ear, a searing kiss along the juncture of her neck and shoulder, one along her nape. She shivers, a needy whimper falling from her lips as she arches, pushing back against me.

“Tell me if you want to stop. At any time,” I murmur against her skin.

Her head shakes. “Don’t s-stop. Please.”

I slide my palm beneath the worn fabric of her T-shirt, trailing the calloused pads of my fingers up the soft skin of her stomach until they ghost along her rib cage. I want to spend the rest of the night learning every inch of her, memorizing every curve of her body, every dip of her creamy skin. Learning what she tastes like, what she feels like as I move inside of her, the sounds she makes when she’s on the edge of an orgasm.

But this isn’t about my pleasure. It’s about hers.

Sliding my hand over the top of hers, I slowly drag them lower until we reach the elastic band of her pale pink panties. They’re simple, cotton, and not meant to be sexy. Yet, on her, they are, somehow innocent and erotic at the same time.

When I dip her fingers beneath the waistband, I pause before continuing. “Keep going?”

She nods breathlessly. “Please.”

I drag her hand lower, torturously slow, until she sucks in a shaky breath. Her entire body goes taut as her fingers brush along her clit. Even with her hand beneath mine, I can feel the heat from her pussy on my fingers, and I bite back a groan when I feel how wet she already is.

Fuck me.

She’s completely drenched, and I want to crawl between her thighs and suck on her clit until her cum’s dripping down my chin. As badly as I want to taste her, I want even more for her to know that she’s the one in control and that she can bring herself to orgasm.

I press the pad of her middle finger gently against her clit, inciting a surprised whimper that has arousal jolting through me.

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