Her eyes were glassy, hair a mess. She looked perfectly ruined. And I smirked, because yeah, I had done that.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” she said breathlessly, looking up at me.
I stared at her for what felt like five whole minutes because I had no idea how to rationalize that this was happening. That Mackenzie was my wife, and I was her husband. This meant more to me than she would ever know.
“You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted this,” I said, my voice rough. “I can’t stop thinking about how good you felt in the woods.”
I leaned down, biting her bottom lip.
“Well, I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first day of camp,” she whispered.
I growled, leaning back just enough to see her face. She was open now, looking at me like she wasn’t holding anything back. And I couldn’t look away.
“Oh yeah?” I ran my hand down her inner thigh. “What were you thinking about?”
She wasn’t embarrassed; she just looked at me and said, “When I first saw you come out of your truck, I could barely talk. I thought all types of things when we discovered we’d be back in that room together.”
I leaned in, voice low and coaxing. “What were we doing in your thoughts?”
She bit her lip.
“Um, this. I thought about you kissing me, touching me. I thought about you naked, I thought about the way you would feel.”
My jaw flexed, and I said, “I want specifics.”
She hesitated just a minute and then said, “I touched myself in the shower three times after I saw you shirtless for the first time, and I touched myself in my bunk while you were asleep.”
Fuck.
That was not what I had been expecting.
I was going to destroy her.
“You touched yourself while I was asleep?” My fingers were high on her inner thighs, my dick hovering right there,so close.
She nodded her head yes.
“What did you think about when you were touching yourself?”
“I thought about how you’d look if you lost control, if we stopped holding back.” She leaned forward so that her mouth was hovering against mine. “I thought about what you would sound like.”
She looked away, and I grabbed her face so I could look into her eyes. I groaned, hips grinding down against her, the head of my cock sliding up and down her wet center. I was shaking now. Desperate. Barely holding on. Our mouths collided again, all tongue and need.
“Repeat it,” I breathed against her mouth.
She shivered. “I touched myself thinking about you.”
My hands gripped her thighs, spreading them wide, and I slid my fingers up her again.
“So wet,” I said. “Is this how wet you were when you touched yourself?”
She arched her hips into my hand, her fingers clutching the sheets.
“Yes. God—yes.”
26
MACKENZIE
