Marriage On The Cards. Susan Carlisle
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gently guided her onto her back. Her pretty lavender-blue eyes were filled with uncertainty and desire, lips parted, cheeks flushed pink, chest rising and falling quickly. She was...stunning. A goddess. And he couldn’t wait to see all of her...to love all of her. He reached for the top button of her shirt. But Mackenzie stopped him.
“No. I want to leave it on...”
Dylan was disappointed but respected her wishes. A woman as sexy and beautiful as Mackenzie should be proud of her body, not hide it. He shifted his focus, peeled the covers back, exposing her simple white cotton briefs. He caught her eye as he traced the edge of the panties, starting at the inner part of her thigh up to the outer curve of her hip.
“But we will need to take these off...”
This time Mackenzie nodded. Not in a hurry, Dylan gradually inched the covers down, revealing her thighs, knees, and finally her tightly crossed ankles. Dylan noticed a small white scar on her upper thigh; he ran his finger across it.
“I remember when you got this. You cut your leg on a piece of glass in your father’s garage.”
Mackenzie nodded. Dylan leaned down, kissed the scar before he began to inch her panties down. He was so methodical and deliberate, dropping sensual kisses on her stomach, on the soft fleshy inner part of her thighs. He wasn’t in a rush. She wanted to tell him to hurry up, but bit her lip instead.
“Mackenzie...you’re stunning.” Dylan knelt beside her, her underwear now on the floor.
He was the stunning one. Dylan’s body was ripped and lean from pounding the waves. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man; he was a thing of beauty. Dylan stood up, stripped off his underwear and reached for a condom. Mackenzie pulled the covers up over her body and watched, fascinated, as Dylan rolled the condom on. It was bizarre. Dylan had given her a child, but this was the first time she was seeing all of his body. The night they conceived Hope, she had insisted on a completely dark room.
Dylan joined her under the blanket and she was relieved that he got right down to business, covered her body with his. His weight felt good, pressing her down into the mattress. His hard shaft felt good, pressed into her belly. Dylan held her face in his hands, but she kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut.
“Mackenzie...” He said her name so sensually. “I wish you’d open your eyes.”
Mackenzie opened her eyes. Why was he so patient when she felt as if she was suffering from a serious case of sexual frustration?
“I care about you, Mackenzie. I always have. And...I don’t take what we’re about to do lightly...”
Aching, throbbing, frustrated, Mackenzie sunk her fingernails into his shoulders. “Dylan! Stop talking!”
Dylan smiled down at her but followed orders. He kissed her and eased himself into her body, slow and controlled until he was fully inside of her. Their bodies completely connected now, Dylan didn’t move. He dropped his head down, took a minute to compose himself. He didn’t want to disappoint Mackenzie with a super-short performance. Mackenzie squirmed beneath him, begging him with her body to move.
“Mackenzie,” Dylan whispered roughly. “You’re driving me crazy...”
His fingers in her hair, his lips on her lips, Dylan began to move. But, slowly, as if he wanted to savor the moment, as if he didn’t want this moment to end too soon. His long, deep strokes were exactly what her body had been craving. She lifted her hips to meet him halfway, to take more of him in.
“Wrap your legs around me.” Dylan gently bit down on her earlobe.
She wrapped her legs around him, held on to his biceps. Dylan locked his arms to hold himself above her; he closed his eyes and let her watch him. They were starting to learn each other’s bodies. Dylan was less cautious now, less gentle, and more demanding and intense. And she liked it. Dylan wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders, curled himself around her, and drove his body into hers. And then he drove her right off the edge of reason and straight into the arms of ecstasy. All of the tension, all of the anticipation and frustration and building gave way to orgasmic ripples pinging pleasure signals all over her body. Her loud, vocal orgasm triggered Dylan’s. He thrust into her one last time, deep and hard, and then groaned loudly.
Dylan’s breathing was heavy, his body felt heavy atop hers. He was still between her thighs, where she felt raw and wet. Dylan kissed her on the neck; he kissed her on the lips. He pulled the covers up over their still-connected bodies and held her tightly in his arms as if he sensed that she needed that reassuring pressure. She felt emotions, out of nowhere, surge through her. Dylan had just given her an amazing gift—her first real orgasm. After his breathing returned to normal, Dylan propped himself up on one arm so he could look at her.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, still feeling a bit scandalized by her own behavior. She had never been so...vocal...in bed before. But she had to admit, that it had been...liberating.
“I should take care of this...” He reached down between them, secured the condom between his fingers, and then slowly pulled out of her.
Dylan returned to the bed quickly, propped himself up on the pillows and opened his arms for her.
“Come here. Let me hold you.”
Mackenzie wanted to be close to him; she wanted to be in his arms after the lovemaking they had just shared. Dylan wrapped his arms around her, held her tight and sighed like a satisfied, contented man.
“This is a great way to wake up...” Dylan slid his fingers into her hair, a smile in his voice. “You’re a wildcat...”
Mackenzie ran her fingers through his chest hair, smiled but kept quiet.
“I don’t think anyone has surprised me the way you just did...” Dylan kissed the top of her head and rubbed her arm. “Hey...what are you doing today?”
“No plans, really. The bakery’s closed on Sundays and I don’t pick up Hope from her friend’s house until four.”
“And I already called Pegasus and told them that I wouldn’t be there today, so my day is free. Why don’t we spend the day together.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Breakfast, for starters.”
“Agreed...”
“Then, surfing?”
“Negative.”
Dylan laughed. “Okay...the hot tub, then.”
“Uh-uh...I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“Skinny-dipping is encouraged.”
“I never negotiate on an empty stomach. Let’s eat first and then we’ll talk.”
* * *
Dylan was an organized, clean cook. She would drive him nuts; her bakery was spotless, but when she baked, she was a whirlwind—a messy whirlwind.
“You really do have a little OCD thing happening, don’t you?” Mackenzie observed Dylan cleaning the counter throughout the cooking process.
“I guess. I just like things to be clean, organized. What’s wrong with that?” Dylan twisted the rag dry and then dropped it over the faucet.
“We could never get married,” Mackenzie said without thinking.
Really? You just brought up marriage?
“Oh, yeah?” Dylan flipped over the pancakes. “Why not?”
“Not that I was suggesting that I think that we should get married. It was just an observation...”
“You still haven’t told me why not...”
“In the hypothetical?”
“If