“I was wrong about you,” she whispers as I slip my hands under her blouse.
“In a good way or a bad way?”
“I don’t know.” She shivers at the first brush of my thumb against the underside of her breast. “I thought you might be all bark, no bite. But then I thought… I might like it if you bit me. I was right.”
I growl and nip at her bare shoulder. “I’d fucking cover you in bite marks if it wasn’t too hot to wear sleeves some days.”
She laughs. “No marks.”
“I promise.” I drag in a long, slow inhale. “Fuck, you smell good. I won’t bite you again if I can get a little closer and have a taste.”
There’s something painfully sweet and innocent about her reaction, a little delay as she processes what I’m saying.
“I want to lick your pussy until you scream,” I murmur, just to be clear.
Her head stutters, a quick, jerky nod.
Permission. Agreement. Yes, she wants me to do that.
Good.
Fucking good.
Because six weeks ago, we got married and I didn’t get a wedding night with my beautiful young bride. And she might not want to stay married to me just yet, but right now, she’s mywifeand I’m going to fucking treat her right.
Scooping her in my arms, I peel off her blouse, then unhook her bra. I kiss her as I flick the pieces of clothing away, although I don’t think anything could distract her—or myself—from the fact that only a skimpy pair of panties separate our naked bodies now.
Pushing myself down her body, I cup her breasts and kiss her nipples. No more bites now, only soft licks and gentle tugs ofmy mouth. Her eyelids flutter half closed, her gaze going glassy and unfocused as I devote myself to learning her breasts. Her skin is impossibly silky, it begs for attention, and her nipples are gorgeous. Almost flat until they meet my tongue, they pop into the sweetest raspberry-shaped peaks when aroused.
And my girl, mybride, is definitely aroused. I can smell the sweet honey she’s making for me, and it’s fucking with my head. I don’t want to let her go. I need to find a way to do this again, and again, until she needs me as much as I’m afraid I need?—
No. I can’t put that on her. I can’t pressure her.
Pushing my face into her belly, I force myself to focus on the here and now. On this gorgeous woman and the pleasure she deserves for being brave and strong over the last few days.
One day, I’ll ask her about the shock she felt when she opened that envelope.
Not tonight, though.
I tug her panties down her hip, just a few inches, taking my time. Revealing this last private part of her like the gift that it is, precious and sweet and valuable to me.
Her creamy skin is paler behind the soft cotton, a lifetime of this tender skin being hidden at the beach and at the pool, but not here. Not in bed, not hidden from her new husband.
Mine.
I’m suddenly dizzy with need, and I know I’m too rough as I tear her panties away, but it’s beenso long, and I didn’t know I was waiting for her, but I was, I was,I was, and now that she’s mine, it’s so hard to hold myself back.
Everything narrows to the sweet tremble of her belly, her tiny exhale that’s still so fucking loud as I brush my lips over the soft dark brown hair on her mound, and then my first look at her glistening honey, a teasing drop clinging to closed, pouting lips.
My need intensifies. “Spread your legs for me.”
I help, impatient and hungry.
Her thighs fall open, her pussy blooming. My hands look too rough against her inner thighs to deserve such sweet perfection.
“You’re so pretty.” I brush my thumb light as can be along her outer pussy lip. She’s so fucking pink, so slick already. “I need to taste you.”
She squeaks as I lower my head.
