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Yet when she went to touch him where he strained toward her, he grabbed her hand, stopping her.
“Not yet. If you touch me there, I’ll have to have you soon thereafter.”
McKenzie’s thighs clenched at the prospect, her whole body tingling. “Isn’t that the idea?”
He shook his head. “My idea is to touch and kiss every inch of you first.”
His words set off explosions in her head, in the pit of her belly, at her very core. She always had thought him a smart man. They’d go with his idea. Most definitely. Because she wanted him touching her, kissing her.
Every inch of her wanted to be claimed by him.
“Oh. Okay.”
“Yeah, oh. Okay.” His words were half-teasing, but his eyes glittered in ways she’d never seen him look at her. In ways she’d never seen any man look at her.
Pure male power and possessiveness. She was his and he planned to claim his prize. Her.
* * *
McKenzie saw stars. Lots and lots of stars.
Which was pretty amazing since she lay on her bedroom floor, gasping for air, basking in the glow of having had really great sex, the best sex of her life.
The best sex of anyone’s life.
Had to be.
And that was with them trying to keep quiet so as not to wake anyone else in the house.
McKenzie had wanted to scream out in pleasure several times, and almost had with her last orgasm, but Ryder had caught her cry with his mouth as he’d toppled over the edge with her.
The man was incredible.
Pure and simple.
His intelligence, his kindness, his body that moved with hers in a primal rhythm she’d never danced before, one of pure, orgasmic pleasure.
She’d done a better job with picking out a fake boyfriend than she ever had picking out a real one.
“That was better than I thought it would be.”
McKenzie’s happy haze dissipated. Still breathing hard, her heart hammering against her ribcage, she rolled over to look at him. “Did you think I’d be bad?”
Chuckling, he rolled onto his side, too, and faced her. “I thought you’d be wonderful, and you were. More so than I’d thought possible.”
“Nice save.”
“The truth.” He cupped her face. “You were there. There was nothing mediocre about what we just shared.”
“You’re very good,” she admitted.
“As are you.”
He’d certainly made her feel good, made her feel sexy, as if he’d read and aced the manual to her body because he knew every trick to eliciting a response.
And, although sh
e was still breathless from what they’d just done, she put her hand against his chest, felt his heart, still beating as erratically as hers, and took comfort that she wasn’t alone in what she’d just experienced.
