Page 66 of Walkoff Wedding

It’s the sweetest fucking sound I’ve ever heard, and I want to be the reason she does it over and over again.

Together, we circle her clit slowly, my movements controlled and purposeful as her head falls back against my shoulder and her lips part on a sigh.

“Just like that,” I praise. “There’s no rush, baby. Take your time, let it build.”

I continue to move her fingers in slow, languid circles, even when her hips begin to writhe, trying to speed things up. Instead, I drag my tongue along the flutter of her pulse and gently nip at her skin while keeping a steady pace, drawing out her pleasure.

Her breathing turns choppy, a sharper intake with each strum of her fingers, her body telling me everything I need to know.

“I…” She pants, squeezing her eyes shut. “Grant…”

Our fingers are coated in her arousal as she begins to pant, the neediest little breaths that have me gritting my teeth in restraint.

Goddamnit, she’s a dream. An actual fucking dream, and she feels like mine.

Her hips rock against our fingers, chasing the feeling that has her muscles coiling and her body pulling taut.

I press my lips against her neck, my other hand curling into her hair as a strangled breath rolls off her lips.

“I… I can’t-t.”

I move her fingers faster, adding more pressure to her clit. “How does it feel, baby? Making yourself come while your husband watches, like a good little wife?”

I don’t know if it’s that she finally allows herself to let go, if she’s finally shut her brain off long enough for her pleasure to take over, or if it’s the words I whispered in her ear that do it, but her thighs slam together, her back arches, and she cries out loudly as she comes.

“Grant.”

My name is whispered like a prayer from lips that are worthy of divine worship. I’d fall to my knees for her. She draws out my name as her orgasm powers through her, hips writhing with the slowing motion of our fingers along her sensitive clit. Her thighs tremble, and my gaze never leaves her, never falters.

I’m cataloging every breath, every whimper, every moan. Memorizing the feeling of being curved around her, the scent of vanilla and cinnamon surrounding us and making me dizzy.

Gently, I pull my fingers back, resting them along the flat expanse of her lower stomach. I don’t want to move a fucking muscle. I want to savor every second of what she just trusted me with.

“Um…” She finally finds her voice, raspy and hoarse from her climax.

“Are you okay?” I murmur.

She nods languidly against my shoulder, sinking further against me. “Yes. I… was I okay? Was I?—”

I use my flattened palm to pull her closer to me, burying my face in the spot between her shoulder and neck, planting my lips softly along her heated skin.

“You’re perfect. Every single thing about you.”

Gently, she turns toward me, peering over her shoulder. “But what about… you?”

My dick has possibly never been so hard in my life. If she moves and brushes her ass against me again, I may actually come in my pants… but this isn’t about me.

It never was. It was always about her.

“I’m good, baby. This was about you and only you,” I reply simply.

Her gaze lingers on mine for a beat before she nods, then gently turns in my arms until her head is pressed against my chest.

“Thank you. Not just for… that, but for helping me feel comfortable and safe. I-I wouldn’t have ever wanted that moment with anyone else.”

The sincere tone of her voice washes over me, and I tighten my arms around her, pressing my lips to her hair. “Always.”

It doesn’t take long for her breathing to slow and her body to go slack as she drifts off to sleep against my chest. I should probably get up, move to my side of the bed. Do anything but hold my sleeping wife in my arms, thinking of how good it feels to do something that blurs the lines between us. That complicates everything.

---