Page 40 of My Big Fat Shifter Wedding

“You don’t mean that.”

Now that was a notion that I couldn’t abide. I continued sliding my hands up, bunching her skirt until it was around her hips and waist. Her stockings were thigh-high, clipped to a lacy garter belt that matched her equally lacy, sheer panties.

A present, and all for me.

“I do,” I practically growled, dipping my head to kiss at the swell of her thigh right above her stocking. God, that little extra softness right above the hosiery was so attractive that I felt like I was going to spin out.

I always had an intensity about me, and usually I poured it all into woodworking. Now, however, there wasn’t a lick of wood around besides my own, so that intensity had nowhere to go but Olivia.

I kissed my way up that perfect thigh of hers until my lips ghosted over the delicate fabric of her panties. I didn’t apply pressure, didn’t linger there, even though I wanted to. Even though her scent called to me like fucking ambrosia.

I reveled in the little gasp she let out at my breath against her, and the adorable little whimper that came after it when I moved right along. The things she was doing for my ego...

Enthralled, I worked my way down her opposite thigh, until my teeth were at the buckle of her other garter. As tempting as it was to pop it off like this was some romance movie and I was a debonair spy who knew all about women’s lingerie, the practical part of me was aware I would ruin it rather than be sexy about it. Besides, the one thing I did know was that underwear went over garters, not under them, so I would have no problem getting them off.

But for now, they could stay on, because I made my way back to her core and kissed her through the lace. Gentle at first, barely there, my palms resting on her thick thighs so I could feel the muscles jump.

I applied pressure as I learned her, observing every single reaction she had and writing it into my DNA so it would always be a part of me. Every whine, every shift of her hips, every part of her that tensed and relaxed was either compliment, instruction, or both, and I was most definitely a grade-A student.

It wasn’t long before Olivia was near trembling, her thighs trying not to clamp down around my head. That was my sign that it was time to escalate.

I watched her face as my hands left their position and went to that damp little piece of clothing. Such a small, flimsy thing, and yet it guarded something so sacred.

I was practically inebriated, drunk off the succor of her altar, devoured by her scent and taste instead of the other way around.

“Keith…” she whispered when I hooked my fingers into the waistband sitting against her soft, olive-toned tummy. I’d always thought I had a rather unsexy name, but hearing it tumble from her lips made me feel entirely different about it.

“Do you want me to stop?” I asked, because I wanted Olivia to know that not only was her comfort a priority, but it was my prime directive.

“N-no.”

I didn’t need any more encouragement to eat my way to Olivia’s heart, but it was an incredible bonus to see such a capable, confident woman crumbling to pieces from the stroke of my tongue. And I wasn’t about to let her down.

But I also wasn’t about to rush things.

“Do you want to pause for a minute? Catch your breath?”

Another fervent shake of her head. I squeezed her thighs gently until she used her words. “No!” she declared adamantly before blushing brightly at the sudden uptick in her volume. “No…” she repeated in a softer tone.

“Don’t worry about being loud,” I assured as I dipped my head down. “If I do this right, you’ll be screaming soon enough.”

And that was a promise I fully intended to keep.

10

OLIVIA

COMING TOGETHER AND BREAKING (BED FRAMES) APART

I was dying.

Or maybe I’d already died and had ascended to a realm of pure pleasure, because that was pretty much the only explanation I had for the feelings swamping my entire nervous system.

All throughout my life, I’d heard jokes about bigger guys knowing how to eat. I never figured it was a promise. The way Keith was kissing me, licking me, using his nose and chin in a coordinated effort with his mouth had me practically levitating off the mattress.

“Keith….” I crooned, embarrassingly high-pitched as he circled the tip of his tongue around my clit, teasing but not giving me the direct pleasure I wanted. There was a minute part of my brain that was amused at me mewling such a white boy name since I’d always assumed I’d end up with an Italian shifter but⁠—

You’re not ending up with anyone, girl! another, much sharper part of my mind practically shouted. It was almost enough to knock me out of the rush I felt building in my middle.