Read The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie Online
Authors: Bonnie K. Winn
The Accidental Mrs. Mackenzie (25 page)
“Matt,” she pleaded, not knowing what she asked for, yet knowing he could somehow guess; and certain he could satisfy.
He opened the clasp on her bra, allowing her breasts to slip free. Exposed to the air, her already swollen nipples hardened further and he bent to taste them.
Brynn arched toward him in delight. As his mouth worked its magic, she felt an unfamiliar dampness at her core.
Then his hands roamed over her torso, tantalizing her as they danced over her ribs, to her waist, past her hips, continuing downward. His clever fingers skimmed over her skin until she wondered that she didn’t explode from his touch.
Matt filled his eyes with the sight of her, his fingers with the satin of her skin. As she moaned in pleasure, he slipped her blouse off, tossed away her bra, then shrugged away his own shirt before reaching for the fastening of her jeans. Something deep inside stirred as he realized she still adopted the clothes he’d asked her to wear.
Closing his mouth over hers, he brought their bare chests together, luxuriating in the feel of her breasts, acquainting her with the feel of his naked skin. When her body moved of its own accord, sensuously weaving against his, his control slipped. Sinking his teeth into her shoulder, he nipped gently, eliciting another low sound of satisfaction.
He reached again for the snap on her jeans, then slid her zipper free. She didn’t protest as he quickly removed the jeans. Picking Brynn up, he carried her to the bed and together they slid against the mattress. For a moment he let himself savor her long legs, as shapely as he remembered. Then his hands traveled over them, cupping the firm flesh of her calves, his mouth reaching to tease the tender skin behind her knees.
Her cries of pleasure punctuated each movement, each new discovery. As he felt her hands fumble at the fastening of his jeans, he sensed both her hesitancy and desire.
He held her mouth in a deepening kiss, scraping his tongue over hers, tracing each curve, each undiscovered recess. While he kept her lips captive, distracting her, he unfastened his jeans, breaking away from her only long enough to dispatch them.
Great expanses of naked skin now yearned to touch, to feel, to meld.
Brynn’s eyes roved over his beautiful body, wanting to caress, wishing to pleasure. When her unskilled touch made him shudder, a shaft of pure feminine power shot through her, at once amazing and satisfying her. So she, too, could make him feel this intense pleasure. Pleasure so acute she thought she’d die from the wanting of it.
Then his hands began a new journey, teasing the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, cradling the curve of her hips. The possibilities in her mind expanded, then leaped out of control.
Matt teased the last wisp of silk she wore. His fingers danced over the curved valley of her waist, then slipped beneath the fragile silk barrier. Despite his growing hunger, he kept his moves gentle, not wanting to frighten her. But when he cupped her heat, she arched against his hand, welcoming his touch.
Then her lips were near his ear, her breath a whispered caress, her murmurs an invitation—one he accepted, his fingers encountering her engorged flesh, the moist welcome that signaled her readiness. Almost immediately her body collapsed in shudders, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her words a wonder of trembling.
“I didn’t know,” she breathed.
His eyes met hers, demanded that she focus on his. “You still don’t.”
Stripping away the scrap of lacy panties, Matt pulled her close, letting her fully feel his arousal. He heard her expected gasp, but her low moan of desire surprised him. Tracing the contours of her face, he felt her hands return the caress, then bracket his jaw.
She had waited for this moment, dreamed of it. She wasn’t going to let her shyness stand in the way. “I want you, Matt. All of you.”
The last of his control was hanging by a quickly dissolving thread. He wanted this to be special, memorable, enjoyable. Yet the demons of his own desire drove him and his patience was slipping away.
Gently he parted her thighs, feeling her brief initial resistance fade away as he cradled her between his legs. Poised to enter her, he reclaimed her mouth, then her gaze. “I love you, Brynn Magee.”
Pure pleasure split her face as he deepened gentle strokes, claiming her in a ritual as ancient as life itself. Instinctively, her long legs curled over his back, their strong muscles holding him close.
Brynn wondered that she didn’t die of the exquisite joy. The brief pain was already forgotten as she felt the building pressure, the bursts of incomparable wonder, the race toward an edge she didn’t yet recognize.
Then her body bowed, surprising her as a whipcord of ecstasy struck... stunning her as it was followed by a flood of shuddering and inexplicable satisfaction.
Matt reached for the pleasure and found it. Her body quivered helplessly beneath him, snapping his control, thrusting him over the edge, carrying her with him.
Moonbeams pushed past the parted drapes, casting a silver glow that battled with the golden embers of the fire. Gentle fingers of woodsmoke drifted over them, along with the light from the evening stars, bathing them in shared wonder.
The magic of the early moonrising combined with their joy, caging their wild hearts, capturing them for all time.
Epilogue
Brynn stared out at the wild cliffs of Moher, glints of blue fire radiating from the diamond on her left hand. The previous day she and Matt had exchanged wedding vows—their marriage beginning appropriately on New Year’s Day. A day of new starts, new resolutions and new promise.
A day that had convinced her for all time that the MacKenzie family completely welcomed her. A healthier-looking Frank and a happily teary-eyed Ruth had called her “daughter.” Miranda, with Edward by her side, had simply said: “Welcome home.”
Then, with overwhelming generosity, they’d presented her with the Irish lace wedding dress once worn by Gallagher MacKenzie’s young bride. A dress that fit Brynn as though it had been sewn just for her. A dress she could use to initiate her own family traditions. It was something old.
Heather, the one so very close to Gregory, had given her a beautiful golden heart locket engraved simply with the word Sister. The gift signaled her acceptance. And provided something new.
Ruth, apparently overcome by an imp of her own, had lent Brynn the garter she’d worn on her own wedding day. As Ruth grinned and then winked, Brynn saw a glimpse of her own future—with its promise of the unexpected. And she’d happily accepted something borrowed.
And dear Miranda had made a gift of her grandmothea’s diamond earrings—the ones that sparkled with blue flame. Ones that would forever be tied to the Harvest Ball so meaningful to them both. A very special something blue.
Matt, who’d stunned her with the beautiful solitaire, managed to reduce her to tears with his simple contribution to the ceremony. He’d chosen a local guitarist to strum the notes of “Dream Weaver”—a song that suited Brynn to perfection. A magical day from beginning to end, she wondered if it had been spun of those dreams.
While Matt had explained his choice of Eagle Point for the ceremony, he’d saved their honeymoon as a surprise, giving her a piece of the legacy she had so craved. Now they traveled down the west coast of Ireland, her heart swelling as she imagined her grandmother smiling down from heaven, pleased that her “lass” had made this pilgrimage.
Pinching herself until she was nearly black-and-blue, Brynn could still scarcely believe Matt was hers. Remembering how the family had welcomed her back like a prodigal daughter, complete with their version of the fatted calf, she had to blink back a tear. Brynn didn’t know what she’d done to deserve such happiness, but she knew she would never take it for granted. She planned to embrace each day and hold on to her happiness with a firm grasp, never allowing it to become an elusive quest.
Matt slipped an arm around her waist. “Happy?”
“Almost unbearably so.”
He pointed ahead to the rugged sweep of raw rock that soared toward the sky, the spray of the ocean challenging each elements-battered cliff. “We could have our picture taken there—it’d make quite a backdrop.”
Her eyes danced as they met his. “The first picture in our own wedding album?”
He turned her toward him, his fingers lacing through her wildly blowing hair. “You’re way behind, love.”
“I am?”
“I started taking pictures of you the day we met.”
Surprised, she reached out to touch the familiar planes of his handsome face, the intriguing dent in his chin. “You did?”
With his other hand, he picked up hers, placing it over his heart. “They’re imprinted here.”
Brynn battled the catch in her throat, swamped by the love that filled her. “You’re an answer to all my daydreams, all my fantasies.”
“That was Gregory,” he reminded her.
“No. He was never the culmination of everything I’ve wanted and needed my entire life.” She traced the contours of his firm, strong lips. “But you are. I didn’t know it until it was nearly too late—”
His fingers touched her mouth, stopping the flow of words, the regret she still lived with. Then his thumb eased gently over her lips. “I don’t need a camera to know this is a picture I plan to keep. I don’t mind if you get lost in your daydreams... as long as you find your way home...to me.”
Brynn reached up, her arms winding around Matt’s neck, her lips meeting his. The wild Irish wind whipped about them as they sealed the promise. And began a living dream. One that no fantasy could touch.
ISBN : 978-1-4592-5018-5
THE ACCIDENTAL MRS. MACKENZIE
Copyright © 1999 by Bonnie K. Winn.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, Is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all Incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangements with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of the Publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
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