McFarlane's Perfect Bride by Christine Rimmer

lovemaking.
    He kissed her throat, her chin, and finally, with a sigh, he settled his mouth over hers and tasted her more deeply. He was aching, aching in a good way, hard and ready, needing her so bad.
    She caught his face in her two soft hands. “The drawer, in the nightstand…”
    He reached for it, his mouth still locked with hers.Finding the knob, he pulled it open, felt around inside, his fingers closing over a pen, a notepad, a small flashlight. But nothing that felt like the condom he was groping for.
    She pushed gently at his shoulders. “Let me,” she suggested.
    Reluctantly, he let her up, and sank back against the pillows. He admired the gorgeous curve of her slim back as she got up on her folded knees and slid the drawer all the way open.
    â€œGot it.” She pulled out a box from way in back and swiftly peeled the lid wide, taking out a single sealed pouch. She held it up.
    He reached for it.
    But she only laughed and snatched it away and looked at him from under her thick lashes. “Let me. Please.”
    He settled back against the pillow again and folded his hands behind his head. “Absolutely. Be my guest.” He spoke teasingly, though he wanted only to grab her, roll her under him and bury himself deep in her waiting softness.
    She was kind. She didn’t fool around. She had the pouch open and the condom sliding down over him within seconds. The touch of her hand as she guided it into place, snugging it neatly, evenly, at the base, almost undid him.
    But not quite. She bent over him, so her lips were no more than a breath away from his. “Good?”
    He refused to move. If she wanted to take control, so be it. “Excellent.”
    She slid a leg over him and went up on her knees astride him, but away from him. Her eyes weren’t so teasing anymore. They were hungry. Ready.
    He resisted the powerful urge to grab her hips and surge up into her.
    She bent close, though she didn’t lower herself down onto his waiting hardness. She whispered, “You’re gritting your teeth.”
    â€œAnd you’re driving me wild.”
    â€œI’m so glad to hear that.” She kissed him, slowly, a brushing kiss that turned deeper—and then deeper still.
    â€œCome down to me, Tori. Now…”
    Impossibly, miraculously, she actually obeyed him. He felt her against him—there, where he needed her—and then he slipped inside.
    She was wet and hot and, oh, so welcoming. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching for her then. He took her hips and pulled her down onto him.
    She moaned then. So did he.
    And she rode him, kissing him, her hips working in a rhythm that shattered him, that broke him into a thousand tiny pieces—and then somehow put him back together again.
    At the last minute, as he knew he was losing it, he grabbed her more firmly by the round curves of her bottom and he rolled her, so he was on top. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around him, holding him, rocking him, murmuring his name.
    He muttered, “Tori,” and then again, “Tori,” as the world spun away. He saw utter darkness behind his eyes. And then, at the last possible moment, as she turned him inside out, the darkness turned to shimmering light.
    Â 
    They must have slept.
    When he woke, the bedside clock said it was almostfive. Tori lay beside him, her face so innocent and sweet in the light of the lamp they’d left on, her strawberry hair bright as sunshine spilled across the pillow.
    He tried to slide his arm out from under her head without waking her. But her eyes drifted open.
    â€œConnor…”
    â€œUm?”
    â€œWhat time…?”
    â€œFive to five.”
    â€œYou have to go?”
    â€œUnfortunately.” He bent close, brushed a kiss on her forehead. “Tonight I’m going out to the Douglas Ranch. Caleb invited me to dinner.”
    She made a low, knowing sound. “More hush-hush negotiating,