Page 25 of Rage's Heart

“God, yes.”

Without a word, I scooped her up into my arms and carried her down the hall to my bedroom. Careful not to drop her, I set her on the middle of the bed and stepped back to take her in.

“Fuck.” My throat bobbed as I swallowed roughly.

McKenzie was so fucking beautiful laid out before me. Her eyelids were hooded with desire, her chest heaving with every breath she took.

“You sure about this?” Fuck me, if she said no my dick might explode.

She looked up at me, her eyes clear and sure. “Yes.”

Thank fuck!

Chapter Eight

Mac

The moment my back hit his sheets, every doubt I had disappeared.

I wanted this. Wanted him.

Moving slowly, Rage put a knee to the mattress and prowled up and over my body.

Everything move he made was intentional.

“Please,” I whispered as he hovered over me, his dark eyes tracing across my face, my bare chest.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasped. With deliberate slowness, he lowered himself until his tattooed arms were bracketed around my head.

Moving slowly, he brushed hips lips against the corner of my mouth.

My breath caught.

The softness was so different from the fierce, claiming kisses we’d shared in the kitchen.

“Been thinking about this since the moment I saw you,” he murmured, his voice rough against my skin as he trailed his lips along my jaw. “Kneeling there in the dirt, caring for a mangy dog no one else would’ve stopped for.”

My hands found his shoulders, tracing the hard muscle beneath his skin. “Is that what did it for you? My veterinary skills?”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and straight into mine. “That, and these legs that go on for fucking miles.”

To emphasize his point, his palm skimmed up my thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake. I arched into his touch, desperate for more.

“Tell me what you like, baby,” he said, his fingers playing at the waistband of the boxers I’d borrowed. “I want to make you feel good.”

The tenderness in his voice caught me off guard. I’d expected rough and demanding—not this.

“I like your hands on me.” My cheeks warmed. I was embarrassed from speaking the words out loud.

His answering smile was pure sin. “Where? Show me.”

Swallowing hard, I took his hand in mine and guided it to my breast.

His palm was rough and warm against my skin, and when his thumb brushed across my nipple, I couldn’t stop the desperate moan that escaped my lips.

“Like that?” he asked, watching my face closely.

“Yesss,” I hissed.

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