Page 39 of Resilient Rhythms
For me, it will always be Mckenna Byrne.
When I turn around, she’s leaning against the entranceway to the kitchen, her ankles crossed, staring at me. But her expression has morphed from thoughtful to…hungry. Longing washes over her face and her eyes smolder. Bedroom eyes.
I’m instantly hard. Desperately wanting her. The way I have for so many months. God, I want to bury myself in her.
“Come up with me,” she says softly.
I step closer, my eyes locked on hers.
Mckenna smirks and cross her arms in front of her tank top. She pulls it up and over her head. Her breasts spill over the lacy edges of her nude bra and my fingers twitch to touch them. To cup their heat, test their weight, and palm their softness.
Mckenna unbuttons her denim cutoff shorts and they slide down her legs. She steps out of them, kicking them to the side. Then, clad in her underwear, she eyes me up and down.
I chuckle but lose my sweat shorts and cutoff tank in seconds.
Mckenna laughs as my cock, already hard for her, always for her, springs free.
“Going commando?”
“Sometimes, less is more.”
She laughs as I stride toward her and take her in my arms.
Our mouths crash together as Mckenna wraps her arms around my neck and presses into my frame. My hands are onher hips, her waist, the center of her back. We come together desperately.
I grab the underside of her thighs and lift her. She wraps her legs around my waist and allows me to carry her to the butcher block island. I set her on the edge and nudge her thighs wider, stepping between them.
My palms flatten on the smooth surface as I brace my arms and rock into her space.
She cups the back of my neck, guiding my face to hers. She kisses me lightly, her tongue tracing the outline of my upper lip. Nips and licks and delicious, playful kisses.
“I missed this side of you,” I tell her honestly.
“So did I.”
I kiss her deeply. She shimmies to the edge of the island and grinds herself against my length. The friction of my cock dragging along the silky satin of her panties causes her to groan.
“Mav,” she pants.
“I got you,” I tell her, dragging my lips down the column of her neck.
I dip my hand between us, hooking her panties to one side so I can dip my fingers into her heat.
“Fuck, Mckenna,” I groan. “You’re so wet for me.”
“Always.”
I gather her want and bring it up to her clit, dragging my fingers around the bundle of nerves. Mckenna presses her hands to the side of my face, kissing me hard.
I play with her sweet pussy, tracing her clit, pumping two fingers inside of her. It’s a slow, torturous pace. At odds with the frantic need underlying her desperate kisses.
“I’m close,” she warns.
I drop my forehead to her shoulder, watching my fingers disappear into her heat, and swear.
Then, I pick up my pace, pumping my fingers in and out as my thumb finds her clit.
Mckenna detonates, shattering with my name on her lips.
