Chapter 19

chapter nineteen

Addie

Stop thinking about it, Addie. Just. Stop.

I tell myself for the hundredth time as I walk through the front door of our apartment after working on my art thesis for most of the afternoon.

Except that's the problem. I can't stop thinking about it, and believe me, I've tried.

Can you blame me? My… husband not only looks like some mythological Greek god walking among mortals and is talented at basically everything he does, but he also does this thing with his fingers that should quite literally be illegal.

And of course, being the perpetual overthinker that I am, I've been replaying last night over and over in my head and thinking about how there's literally no way that we'll ever be able to go back to the way things were… before. And then there's also the tiny little detail that we didn't actually decide what happens from here, which has my thoughts going in a hundred different directions and making it impossible to focus on anything… other than my husband.

Groaning, I drop my backpack onto the foyer table and bury my face in my hands.

God, what was I thinking?

Oh, that's right… I wasn't. Well, now I'm thinking yet again about Grant's long, ridiculously talented fin?—

"Addie?"

My head whips up, my hands dropping to my sides as Grant walks out of the kitchen wearing a cocky smirk and a backward baseball hat that makes my insides turn molten.

Why is that the most attractive thing I've ever seen? A dull throb begins to form between my thighs, and I have to press them together to stifle it.

What is happening to me?

"H-hi," I stutter, then clear my throat and try repeating the greeting. "Hi."

Grant strides toward me, closing the distance between us, and dips down, pressing the softest kiss to the corner of my mouth. I'm so surprised that I don't even have a thoughtful response, and instead, I'm stuck with my jaw hanging slightly open and my cheeks burning yet again.

I wasn't expecting him to be here this evening. I figured he would be working out with the team or out with Davis and the guys. Or… something.

And now, I'm feeling nervous and shy all over again, even though he's… you know… done that thing with his fingers.

"I can practically see what you're thinking from here, ArtGirl." He chuckles, brushing the pad of his thumb along my heated cheeks. "C'mon, let's go eat, and we can… talk. "

Talking is good.

Great.

Wonderful even.

He turns, disappearing into the kitchen, and I take a single moment to attempt to breathe normally and collect myself before joining him. This is weird, but also good weird? I don't know what I'm feeling. Besides… horny, that is.

I feel like I don't even know who I am right now. My body is betraying me in ways I've never experienced, and I'm not sure what to make of any of this.

Auggie whines from the floor by my feet, so I crouch down and give him a few scratches before leaving him belly up on the floor.

"Wow. You cook?" I ask as I walk into the kitchen, taking in the fully set table and steaming food already on plates. Apparently, he's full of surprises.

He pours water into our glasses with a satisfied smile, his shoulder dipping nonchalantly. "Sometimes. Growing up, since it was just my mom and I… there were a lot of nights I had to cook when she worked overnights at the ER. I got tired of mac 'n' cheese and ramen pretty quickly, so I watched some YouTube videos and learned the basics. Helps now that I'm on my own. Well, I was on my own."

I walk over and sit in the chair beside his, scooting forward as he joins me. I've noticed that when Grant talks about his mom, he gets this look in his eyes, a softness that is reserved just for her. It's clear how important she is to him… and I love that he's not afraid to show his emotions. A lot of people, including myself, have a hard time showing vulnerability, and I just love that about him. And I love that I'm beginning to know these things about him.

"Well, I'm really impressed, and I bet she's really proud of you," I say, picking up my glass and taking a small sip of water before setting it back down on the table. "Not only because you learned to cook. But because you're selfless, kind, and compassionate, Grant."

Usually I'm the one with the incessant blush constantly staining my cheeks, but this time, a hint of pink colors his, and he grins in response. "Thank you. I just figured that you're probably tired of living off Jack's and microwavable stuff."

"Maybe a littttttle?" I tease, squinching my nose.

His laugh is gravelly as it carries around the kitchen, making my own lips curve into a wide smile.

"That's fair. And plus… I can't keep up these abs if I keep eating pizza every day. It's a tough job. Sacrifices must be made." He brings his hand to his stomach and pats, tossing me a wink.

I try not to let my eyes travel to his T-shirt-covered abdomen, but apparently, when it comes to him, my self-control is nonexistent.

Entirely his fault.

Now that I've seen what's beneath that shirt, I can't help the image that comes flooding back from the day in the hallway where I counted each of those muscles in slow perusal, and suddenly, I'm the one blushing.

"We should… talk ," I blurt out, unable to hold the thoughts in my head inside any longer. "About last night."

God, I probably sound so stupid, but he just nods, leaning in toward me. "We should."

"About what happened."

Grant nods again, his eyes lingering intently on mine.

"W-what did last night… mean for us? Where do we go from here? I feel silly asking that, but my brain hasn't shut off since, and honestly, it's exhausting, and I'm probably doing everything wrong, and I'm second-guessing everything. I know I have no clue what I'm do?—"

Grant reaches for me over the table, sliding his big hand along my nape, and pulls me toward him, sealing his lips over mine and swallowing all of my rambling words. They die on my tongue as my eyes flutter shut, and I whimper against his mouth.

Far too quickly, he tears his lips away and peers down at me, heat flaring in his gaze. "Does that answer your question? I want you , Addie. Not only because you're my wife but because I can't stop fucking thinking about you. I can't stop replaying how you felt last night or how perfect it was to hear you come apart, for me . Baby, I barely touched you. I barely even saw you, and yet it was the hottest thing I've ever experienced."

Me ? The girl with absolutely no experience in… any of this? He wants me ?

His fingers brush tenderly along my nape as he continues, thankfully, because I think I'm too stunned to speak. "If you want to stop, we stop. If you want to keep going, then we'll keep going, but it's your decision. You tell me. But Addie, I do know that I want you—there's no question about it. Not for me. And if you want me too, I don't see why our arrangement, our marriage, can't be mutually beneficial in other ways too…"

A beat of silence hangs in the air between us, but I already know the answer to what he's asking. To what he's proposing .

Because I want my husband.

Even though I'm nervous and terrified that I won't measure up to what he's used to because of my inexperience. But after last night… I can't deny what I feel with him. I would not only be lying to him but to myself.

"I… want this. You , I mean." My voice is a whisper, barely recognizable even to me, and when I lift my gaze back to his, his dark eyes flicker with heat.

"Good," he murmurs. "Then we're on the same page, and thank fuck for that because I've been dying to touch you again."

My heart races in my chest as a shiver passes through me.

"You know what I love?" he rasps, leaning forward and dragging the rough pad of his thumb along my bottom lip with a look that has warmth radiating through my body, heating my insides with nothing more than his molten stare.

"W-what?"

My throat works as he repeats the motion, hunger flaring in his eyes once more.

"That I can tell exactly what you're thinking, and you don't have to say a word." He reaches beneath the table and grasps the edge of my chair, hauling it toward him so quickly that I yelp.

I blink, trying to calm my erratic breathing and pounding heart, but the smile he gives me does nothing to help.

"When you're nervous or… turned on, this goes wild." His fingers brush along the curve of my jaw, sliding lower until his thumb ghosts over my wildly fluttering pulse. Then, he trails his fingers back to my cheeks as he leans in, pressing soft, featherlight kisses along them before dipping his head to my ear and whispering, "And you turn the prettiest shade of pink, almost as pretty as your perfect little pu?—"

My hand flies out, covering his mouth before he can finish his sentence. I feel him smirking against my palm as his brow arches, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement.

Oh. My. God.

I fear I might melt into a puddle of nothing in this chair hearing him say something so… filthy.

The only sound in the room is the crackle of the tall candles on the table that are surrounded by our cooling dinner and the harsh sounds of our labored breathing.

His fingers circle my wrist, and he gently pulls my hand away from his mouth, only to press his lips to the racing pulse along the inside of my wrist. The kiss is tender and reverent yet still intensifies my already erratic breathing.

Arousal slides down my spine when his eyes lift to mine, and I can see the want flickering within the depths.

"Does that make your heart race? Hearing me talk about how fucking beautiful you are?" As he speaks, his thumb brushes back and forth along my pulse, and after a moment of trying to gather myself, I nod.

"I… I'm just not used to hearing things like that. I've never been the girl who gets told she's beautiful by a hot…" I catch myself and pause, clearing my throat. "By a guy."

Grant's pillowy lip curls up into a small smirk. "Will you come with me? I want to show you something."

Nodding, I stand, and he reaches out to hold my hand and gently pulls me toward the bedroom.

One second, we were at the dinner table, about to have a meal, and now we're here next to our shared bed, and I'm trying to digest everything that's happening. I'm confused about what we're doing, even more so when he walks us over to the full-length mirror tucked into the corner of the room and stands behind me. I stare into the mirror, my gaze flitting to his, and my brows pinch together.

"What do you see?" he murmurs near my ear, the proximity causing me to shiver involuntarily as I scan my reflection.

I see… a painfully dull girl who's done nothing but excel at being a wallflower for her entire life. It's not that I think that I'm unattractive. I'm just ordinary . There's nothing exceptional about me, and that realization is not something I care to admit out loud to him. So I don't answer, instead dropping my gaze to the hardwood floor beneath my bare feet.

Grant reaches for my chin and tilts my face back up to the mirror, his stormy gaze locking mine in place. "Do you want to know what I see, Addie?"

Biting the inside of my lip, I nod silently.

I can feel the warm fan of his breath against the shell of my ear as he speaks, his fingers tenderly tracing my jaw. "I see the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on, and I'm not going to stop proving it to you until you see the same thing that I do."

He slides his hands beneath the hem of my shirt, and I tremble beneath his touch. Not only because of the expected nerves but… with anticipation. His stormy blue eyes meet mine through the mirror, and his brow raises in question, asking if he should continue, and I nod.

Inch by inch, he slides my shirt higher with his large hands splayed along my hypersensitive skin, exposing my rib cage, then the cups of my cream-colored bra. There's nothing sexy about the old jersey fabric, but the way that his eyes flare when the swell of my breasts comes into view makes me feel that way.

With only a look, he makes me feel desired in a way I've never felt before.

"I see the most perfect body, one that nearly brings me to my knees," he murmurs, never letting his gaze leave mine. "I see these…" Trailing off, he slides his hands higher, cupping my breasts through my bra, causing my breath to hitch as I halt breathing altogether. "The perfect size to fit in my hands. Almost as if my wife was made just for me."

My lungs burn with the need to expand, but I'm afraid if I suck in a breath, my legs will give out from trembling.

The throb between my thighs pulses harder when he pulls the cups down, exposing my breasts fully. My nipples pebble from the sudden rush of cool air, and he palms them in his large hands, his thumbs sensually caressing my nipples.

Oh…

My head begins to feel dizzy as he touches my bare skin, more sensitive than ever before, and a hoarse whimper tumbles from my lips before I can stop it.

"I see delicate little nipples that I want to wrap my lips around and suck until they're an even rosier pink. I want to bite and flick them with my tongue just to see if I can make you come that way."

No one has ever spoken to me like this before, and realization rushes through me at how maddening it is. I'm nearly panting as I anticipate what he'll say next. What part of me he'll run his rough hands over. How my body will respond to his touch.

His hands drop before I can protest, and he reaches behind my back and unclasps my bra, letting my breasts spill free. But before he drags the straps down my arms, his gaze meets mine in the mirror, the silent question in his eyes once again.

"Please." My voice wavers. I'm practically begging, and I don't even recognize my own voice as I speak, low and hoarse… full of desperation.

I lift my arms, and Grant pulls my shirt up and over my head, tossing it to the ground by our feet. Then, slipping his fingers beneath the loose straps of my bra, he carefully pulls them down, leaving me in nothing from the waist up.

My heart thrashes inside my chest as he scans my reflection, a look of hunger lingering in his gaze.

I've never felt so exposed, so vulnerable in my life. Completely on display for someone with the power to break me if he chooses.

Yet, I still feel safe. I feel… beautiful and wanted.

He slowly slides his hands up my stomach, creating a trail of fire over every inch of skin that he touches, until he cups my breasts in his palms once more.

My skin feels like it's on fire as he brushes the pad of his thumb over my nipple, whispering roughly, "I never want you to question whether I want you, Addie. I never want it to cross your mind. Just feel what you do to me simply by touching you."

His hips press forward, his erection hard and thick against my back. My lips part on an audible gasp, and my throat works as I attempt to breathe.

It feels as big as it looks, and the dull ache between my thighs turns into an incessant pulse of pleasure that throbs in sync with my racing heart. Every breath tightens the pull in my belly, and I'm nearly delirious with the need for him to touch me again… there.

But I'm too… timid to ask. The thought of having to say it out loud is too daunting.

"Feel what my wife does to me." His breath tickles the shell of my ear, and I tremble. "I've never wanted anything as badly as I want you, Addie."

My voice shakes, matching the tremble of my body as I whisper, "Then… have me."

His groan vibrates against my skin, rumbling from his chest. "Baby, you wanted slow. And I'm trying to respect that."

I did say that, but when I said slow… I didn't mean the torturous kind. Now that I know what it feels like to be touched by him, I'm craving… more.

"Maybe not this slow?"

Grant's brows inch together as he holds my gaze through the mirror. "Are you asking for more?"

Shyly, I nod. My teeth graze my bottom lip when he sweeps his thumb across my nipple in an unhurried stroke.

"I'll never deny my wife. If you want more, then that's what you'll get, baby."

The husky, deep baritone of his voice has my thighs clenching, something he immediately notices through the mirror.

Suddenly, his hands fall from my breasts, and he takes a step back, his chest heaving like I've never seen.

"On the bed."

My eyes bounce from him to the unmade bed, and with only a second of a pause, I hurry over and sit on the edge of the mattress.

He walks over to where I'm sitting, his eyes never leaving mine as he reaches behind his neck and pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

My nipples are tight and aching as I watch him quickly strip down until he's in nothing but a pair of dark gray briefs that leave nothing to the imagination. I swallow roughly at the sight of his erection, hard and straining, pressing against the fabric.

I slide my gaze higher, roving over the rows of sculpted abs, to his broad chest, and finally to his face. His eyes are nearly black as he sits on the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

"Come here, baby."

I'm nearly shaking as I crawl over to him, the soft mattress sinking below my hands. Even though there's no one I'd rather give all of my firsts to, it's still as nerve-racking as it is exciting exploring these things.

When I stop in front of him, he reaches for me, curving a large palm over my hips as he hauls me onto his lap. My thighs fall to each side of his legs, straddling him. Feeling every inch of him pressed against my core, I bite back a traitorous whimper.

"Do you remember how I made you come last night?" he rasps. The pad of his thumb sweeps back and forth along the curve of my hip slowly, and I can't help but shudder as I peer down at him with unfocused eyes.

When I nod, he says, "I want you to make yourself come on my cock."

Oh god.

I glance down at my skirt, which is bunched around my hips now, exposing the pale yellow satin of my panties. Grant's hands move to my thighs, and he slowly inches the fabric up, higher and higher, until the only barrier between us is my underwear and his boxers.

"I… I don't know how." My voice is barely a whisper, and heat rushes to my cheeks at having to admit that.

He slides his palms to my hips and rocks me slowly over him until I'm gasping at the sensation. "Just like this."

"Oh," I choke out when my clit drags over his erection through our clothes. The feeling is… like nothing I've ever experienced. It's nothing like touching myself or using the pillow. It doesn't come close to how good it feels with his hands gripping my hips, rocking me over him.

I'm embarrassingly wet, and when I glance down, I see the damp spot I'm leaving on his briefs. My nails dig into his chest as he guides my hips slowly back and forth in a steady, languid rhythm that nearly drives me to insanity.

My eyes flutter closed, and I lose myself in the sensation until I feel his thumb dip beneath the fabric of my panties as he pulls them to the side, forcing my eyes to snap open. When they land on him, his pillowy lips are parted, and his hungry gaze is fixed on my core, watching me, devouring me with his eyes.

"You have no idea how fucking pretty you are. Fuck, I can't wait to eat you. I want you to sit on my face until I can't fucking breathe, baby."

His filthy words wash over me, stroking something inside of me that I never knew existed, and I buck my hips harder over his length. This time, the head of him rubs against my clit roughly, and a whimper rakes out of me.

"Mmm, does my wife like when I talk dirty to her?"

I can only manage a moan of approval as I rotate my hips with the guidance of his hands.

"I can tell you do by the way you're soaking my cock. Look at the mess you've made." I follow his gaze down to where we're fitted together and see now that the front of his boxers is completely soaked with the combination of us.

I bite back a moan and exhale shakily. His dirty mouth, the feel of him pressing against my clit, his hands at my hips, it's all too much. I'm already… close.

My muscles coil and tighten as I roll my hips, chasing the feeling.

Grant sits up and flexes his dick against me at the same time his mouth closes gently around my nipple, sucking it into his mouth. A ragged, hoarse whimper breaks free as I slide my arms around his neck and tangle my fingers into the short hair at his nape, holding him to me.

He rolls my nipple between his teeth, a new, foreign sensation of pain and pleasure that my body can hardly process.

"Grant. Oh… God. That. Th?—"

The room echoes with a pop of his mouth pulling free, and he stares at me heavy-lidded, his chest heaving at nearly the same pace as my heart, a frantic beat that has my head swimming.

Light dances along the corner of my vision as he slides his arms around my back and holds me to him, flexing his hips as I search for my release.

"I'm…" I barely get the words out of my mouth as I detonate, my eyes slamming shut, my head falling back as my entire body seizes with climax. My legs tremble at the blinding intensity, wave after wave rocking my entire body until it feels as if every ounce of pleasure has been wrung from me.

Grant groans jaggedly against my chest, and I pry my eyes open, watching as the muscles of his abdomen contract, his hips jutting against me as he comes.

It is absolutely the most intimate thing I've ever experienced in my life… and by far the hottest.

He continues to slowly rock his hips against me, drawing out the last of his orgasm. We're a mess, covered in a combination of the both of us, a sight that I never imagined could be this… sexy.

The only sound in the room is our labored breathing, a mixture of heavy pants and our attempts to control them.

Grant's mouth hovers over my sweat-slicked skin, pressing a path of kisses upward until he reaches my lips. His tongue sweeps inside my mouth, tangling with mine, until I have to tear myself away to suck in a ragged breath.

His lip twitches. "Sorry, I couldn't wait another fucking second to kiss you."

"Then by all means… Maybe you should do it again?" I respond in a low, sultry murmur.

And so he does.