Relief floods my chest.
“Is that so?” I murmur.
Before she can react, I brush my beard lightly across her stomach.
She squirms and kicks, laughing as she tries to twist away.
But I’m not letting her escape.
I grip her hips gently and hold her in place while I press playful kisses along the spot that makes her squirm the most.
Eventually, she settles again, breathless from laughing.
Slowly, I slide my hands to the edge of her pajama pants.
I pause and glance up at her.
She watches me nervously but doesn’t pull away.
Taking that as permission, I slide the fabric down and toss it aside.
For a moment, I want to sit back and take in the sight of my naked wife for the first time.
But I know that giving her too much time to think right now will only make her nervous again.
So instead, I keep moving.
Kissing down her hips.
Her thighs.
Her knees.
All the way to her ankles.
Even her tiny toes.
Which makes her laugh again.
Then I make my way back up slowly, my hands guiding her legs apart as I go.
When I finally reach the center of her warmth, I pause.
Just taking in the moment.
Taking in her pink pussy, neatly trimmed and weeping for me.
“Fuck,” I breathe quietly.
“What?” she asks immediately, pushing up on her elbows. “Did I do something wrong? Should I go…uh…fix it? Remove everything?”
There it is.
Those doubts.
I lift my head and meet her eyes.
“It’s perfect, baby,” I tell her gently.
