Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2)(33)

Of course, thirty or even fifty years from now, if I were lucky enough to still be walking this earth with him by my side, I wouldn’t think any different.

My hands met at the center of his rib cage as he lazily watched my exploration of his body. I caught the small note of surprise the second I pushed him back, pushing his large body onto the bed.

Male laughter followed.

It was not exactly what I was going for.

His eyes glittered with joy and light amusement as I crawled onto the bed to straddle him. I reached behind my back and unhooked my bra, letting it fall to the ground. All laughter and humor died as his eyes suddenly darkened, and I felt his body go rigid. Rotating my hips, I ground myself against his pelvis. A low growl vibrated from his throat.

“What are you doing, Lailah?” he asked, his voice ragged and breathy.

Over the two years we’d been together, I’d mastered the art of flirting. I could flirt my way to the bedroom like a pro. A dirty comment, a sexy move—I had all of that down to an art form. But once we got to the bedroom, it would be all Jude. I’d occasionally have moments of spontaneity, but it was rare. He’d lead the show, and I’d gladly comply. We never talked about it, but we both knew that Jude had the experience, and—well, I didn’t. I never asked how many girls he’d been with before Megan, but I imagined it was more than one. I was completely fine with letting him take charge when it came to sex, but sometimes, I wondered if he was.

Did he ever want more?

“Taking what I want,” I whispered, hoping I wasn’t ruining my wedding night by pushing something that maybe wasn’t wanted.

His nostrils flared as his cock twitched between my thighs.

I mentally gave my budding seductress a high five.

I bent forward, taking his mouth in a fevered kiss. Grabbing his hands, I placed each one on my bare breasts. With my small hands over his, I felt as he cupped and rolled my tender peaks, his thumbs rubbing the taut nipples before pinching the tender tips. I’d felt him do this a hundred times, but with my fingers resting over his, it was much more intimate.

Breaking our kiss, I redirected one set of our merged hands over the puckered skin that rested between my breasts. His eyes met mine as his lips found the pink skin of my scar, leaving a trail of kisses. My stomach fluttered, as I watched him lower our hands until they drifted over my belly button. My breath faltered when our fingers slid beneath the lace of my thong and sank into the warm heat of my core.

The invasion sent me skyward, as Jude kept my body pinned against him and slowly worked my clit.

“Oh God,” I panted, feeling every move he made as my finger followed his lead.

“Shh . . .” His free hand tenderly touched my chest, pushing me against his raised knees. Removing the scrap of fabric around my waist, he freed me of my thong, never removing our joined fingers. His darkened gaze centered on me. “I’ll follow your lead,” he said.

I mentally gulped.

I had grown up in a hospital. Most of the time, the door had either been open or ajar. It wasn’t until I was over a certain age when I’d demanded more privacy, and even then, I’d still had nurses walking in on my half-dressed body nearly daily. Add in a controlling mother who had barged in on me at home, and it hadn’t been the best environment to . . . explore myself.

After I’d met Jude, I hadn’t really had a need.

Seriously, he was sex on a stick. Who needs a vibrator when you have that sleeping next to you every night?

So, the M word . . . we weren’t well acquainted—at all actually.

The brave little seductress cowered in a dark corner of my mind.

I couldn’t do this. I’d come so far, so fast, but I’d always be that girl in the hospital—naive, shy, and meek.

I looked up at Jude. His breath was ragged, and his eyes were so intense that they were nearly black.

I’d done that—not the girl or the woman or whatever label I was seeking to place on myself.

Just Lailah, his wife.

My fingers tightened around his, guiding him slightly upward, which sent a zing of fire to my belly. My head fell back, and I moaned.

“Gorgeous,” he said.

His praise was exactly the courage I’d needed. Together, I moved our hands, slowly at first, circling my clit, sending shock waves throughout my body. My heart accelerated with each touch, and soon, I was shaking in anticipation.

But it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted more of him.

“Take off your pants,” I instructed, rising up on my knees to allow him some room.

He didn’t hesitate, unbuckling his belt while still horizontal. His dress pants were now wrinkled and rumpled from our foreplay. I watched as he slid them down, pulling his boxer briefs along, in one fell swoop.

No clothing separated us any longer.

Skin-to-skin, body-to-body—now, we could truly become one.

I took my time exploring him. The pads of my fingers touched nearly every inch of him—from the swirly pattern of ink on his bicep to the outer edge of his ear and down to the defining lines of his stomach. I wanted to take my time loving him tonight.

There would only ever be one wedding night, only one first night as husband and wife.

I wanted it to feel endless.

He threaded his fingers into my long hair, and I instinctively bent toward him, needing the feel of his lips on mine. He grew harder beneath me as I rolled my hips, begging for his body to enter mine.