Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2) (15 page)

“Is it really that good?” I asked, looking down at the lacy ensemble Grace had picked out. I didn’t know much about lingerie, having been too scared to go into a store by myself. Now that I got a good look at myself, I guessed I didn’t look that bad, maybe a little hot even.

“Good? That’s not even close to the word I’d use to describe what you look like right now.”

I took a step forward and saw him blow a ragged breath out through his lips.

“Today, when I saw you walking down that aisle, you were ethereal, so beautiful that it almost hurt to look at you.”

“And now?” I bit down on my bottom lip as he stepped forward.

“Now, you look like the devil incarnate, and all I can think of is throwing you on that bed and burying myself in all that wickedness.”

When his fingers touched my bare skin, it felt like a bolt of lightning was igniting every limb, each nerve, and the muscles in my body, awakening the deepest parts of me.

With a single touch, I was his, ready to go wherever he might lead.

It was not like the first time his hand had reached out for mine so many nights ago in that dark hospital room. Somehow, I’d known that my mysterious visitor would one day own my heart. And I, the shy and naive girl, had willingly given it.

But I was not a girl any longer.

“Show me,” I whispered.

His hand tightened around my waist, proving just how much he was holding back. Our lovemaking was always passionate, full of the emotions that had set the stage for our breathtaking love story. But I knew he held back. Even after the kitchen had been dusted with flour and he’d taken me against the counter in more ways than one, I had seen it in his eyes—restraint.

In his eyes, I’d always be that girl, lying in the hospital bed, with tubes and wires attached to me, the one with the broken heart he had to care for. As much as I loved him for it, I didn’t want to be fragile in the bedroom. I didn’t want to be weak when his body moved against mine, and I certainly didn’t want to be thought of as a paper doll on the night of my wedding.

Sliding my hands up his chest, I slowly slid the sleeves of his jacket down his shoulders until it fell to the floor. His hooded eyes watched as my fingers worked his tie, pulling it free from his neck, until it joined the growing heap of fabric below. Silently and with slow precision, I bent my head to each cuff link and kissed the turquoise stone before removing them from his crisp white shirt. He said nothing. He just watched with intensity as I undressed him, taking one button at a time, until my hands touched the smooth skin of his chest. Much like his jacket, his shirt dropped from his shoulders and floated like a white dove until it landed softly below us.

If we lived to be a hundred or older, I didn’t think I’d ever get used to the sight of him standing before me like this. His height towered over me, and when I collapsed into his arms, I fit perfectly within their embrace, like I had been created to be tucked inside them for safekeeping. His body was fierce, toned, and physically strong—thanks to years of solitude, which had been spent doing endless hours of jogging and lifting weights. It was something he’d lightened up on since I moved in, choosing time with me rather than an abundance of time spent in the gym, but somehow, the minimal time he put in worked.

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.

“Wait,” he said breathlessly against my forehead.

I nodded, knowing he’d never let it get past this point without protection. My doctor had given us the okay to go without condoms. I had an IUD. There was no need, but I would never convince Jude. He’d talked about getting a vasectomy, but I’d quickly shut down that idea, telling him it was crazy.
What twenty-eight-year-old male does that?

So, condoms were still a part of our lives—even on our wedding night.

After everything was taken care of, he returned to the bed. He kissed me with wild abandon, an attempt to forget the minor mood killer.

It worked as I pushed him back, straddling him once more.

Our bodies meshed and moved. Limbs became entwined, and soon, I couldn’t tell where one of us started and the other ended. In a move that had my shy little temptress jumping up and down, I slid my hand between our bodies, molding my fingers over his rigid cock.

His breath stopped as his eyes met mine.

I stroked him once, twice, and then I eased my body on his. He let out a guttural moan as his hands clasped my waist. I could see it in his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to slam my body up and down onto his, but he held back.

“Do it,” I urged.

His eyebrows furrowed as I circled my hips, causing his eyes to roll back in his sockets. Lifting my body, I nearly came off of him, leaving just the tip, before slamming back down once again.

“Fuck!” he yelled.

“I know you’re holding back, Jude,” I whispered in his ear after bending down.

My nipples grazed his chest each time he took a breath.

“I want you to let go. I want to see you unleashed.”

When I pulled back, his eyes were full of indecision. He searched my features, trying to make sense of what I was asking him.

“I know you need to protect me and keep me safe, and you do. Every day, I’m still here because of you.”

I lost his focus as he tried to look away. I grabbed his chin and pulled him back.

“Listen to me. You are my hero—in every way. But here,” I said, motioning around the room, “I need you to be my husband and my lover. Stop trying to protect me here.” I pointed to the sheets where we lay together. “And love me without inhibition.”

He answered by kissing me. His kiss told me without words just how much passion he had chained behind that ironclad resolve of his. I responded immediately, grinding against his body in a way that had him meeting me halfway.

“Yes!” I cried out.

I pulled him closer, wrapping my legs around his body as he came to a sitting position. His hands molded my backside, bouncing me up until I was riding him relentlessly. Our mouths moved as his tongue found mine, never breaking the punishing rhythm of our lovemaking.

“Mine,” he growled between frantic kisses.

His possessiveness caused my stomach to tighten as he grabbed the back of my thighs and pushed me back on the mattress. His large body loomed above mine, his breath heavy.

“Yours,” I answered.

Braced by his massive arms, he moved, crashing into my body with such passionate force that I senselessly cried out. Adjusting his position, he knelt, pushing my thighs forward toward my head. Suddenly, he was deeper, and I gasped, as he held my knees and drove into me fast and hard.

My body was in overload, feeling everything at once.

His hot breath was against my neck, and his fingers caressed me as they held me. I felt the soft feel of our skin as we slid together, and the fire deep in my belly was begging to consume me. My muscles clenched tightly around him, and I heard his breath falter before he quickened, picking up the pace. My hands tightened around his forearms, feeling his bulging muscles move as he thrust.

God, he was gorgeous.

The first spasm hit me as my body began to shake in the all too familiar way that sent my body into tremors.

“Oh God!” I cried out.

He moaned, grasping my head to pull me into a deep kiss.

We came together, much like everything else in life.

His body shuddered as my legs fell back to the bed like limp spaghetti.

“My wife,” he whispered against my cheek.

“My husband,” I reciprocated.

His protective warm arms pulled me into the one place where I felt at home, the one place I was meant for.

I winced slightly as I stood, and suddenly, Jude was there, taking my hand.

“Are you sore?”