Wishes in the Wind (Kingsleys in Love 2)

Nicole turned in his arms. “Is that really how you felt?”

“Not when I was a child, no. But lately, until I met you, without a doubt.” His thumbs caressed her cheekbones. “I’ve been searching, Nicole. Searching for something—someone—I’d almost given up believing existed. That’s when I found you, sitting on that bench, staring at the sky and wishing. And I knew, as you did, that I’d never be the same again.”

Nicole swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Our lives, like our backgrounds, are very different, Dustin.”

“But our wishes ar

e not.”

Her lips trembled as she searched his face. “I’m not sure all our wishes are meant to be.”

“I am.” He lowered his head, brushed her lips with his. “I love you.” He drew her closer, tangled his fingers in her hair. “I never said those words until I met you. It humbles me to say them. It humbles me more to feel them.” He tilted her head back, sealing their mouths in one heated motion. “Nicole, I want to give you your wishes, your dreams—the world.”

She opened to him instantly, needing this exquisite moment as much as he did. Eagerly, she wound her arms about his neck, urging him closer, trembling as his tongue stroked hers. Her lashes drifted to her cheeks, every nerve in her body tingling and alive, attuned to the melding of lips, tongues, breath.

Hearts.

Something was different this time; or was that only for her? Something intangible: a change, a shifting, a transformation, an innate realization that after tonight there would be no turning back. Whether it was real or simply the consequence of her own heedless longing, Nicole didn’t care. She welcomed it, wanted it, needed it desperately. Her body blossomed and awakened, rendering her breasts heavy and aching, liquid heat coursing through her, straining to be filled. Nothing mattered at that moment, not the past, not her values, not the future. Only Dustin. Dustin—and now.

No, it wasn’t she alone who felt it. He sensed it, too, for he drew back, stared into her eyes with a bottomless hunger and a blazing intensity as heated as his kiss. “Nicole …”

“Shhh.” She reached up, lay her hand against his jaw, stroking the harsh angles of his unbearably handsome face.

Reverently, Dustin turned his lips into her palm, fighting a battle Nicole could actually feel.

“Don’t,” she breathed, shaking her head. “Not tonight. Please, Dustin, don’t.”

His fingers slid beneath her hair, caressing her nape in slow, sensual strokes. “I haven’t the strength,” he bit out, shuddering. “Nicole … tell me to stop.”

Stop? She hadn’t a thought to comply. This twilight there was only this, only them, and right or wrong, she wanted to drown in all the pleasure she knew Dustin could bring her.

“No.” She stood on tiptoe, untying his neck cloth and unbuttoning his shirt and waistcoat. Tenderly, she pressed her lips to his warm, exposed skin, tugging the sides of his shirt farther apart.

A groan rumbled from Dustin’s throat. “Stop,” he commanded as her fingers trailed over his hair-roughened chest. “God, Nicole, you can’t—” Contradicting his own words, he captured her wrist, dragged her palm over his chest, across his nipples, down to his waist … and his trousers. There he halted, his grip becoming punishing as he battled once again for a control that was dissipating with every drumming heartbeat.

Nicole annihilated it entirely.

Easing her wrist free, she unfastened his trousers, her fingers sliding inside until she could touch him.

A whisper of a caress was all it took.

With a guttural sound, Dustin pulled away, flinging his coat, waistcoat, and shirt to the floor, seizing her mouth in a fierce, bottomless kiss that delved down to her soul. Urgently, he unbuttoned her gown, nearly tearing her chemise as he tugged it from her shoulders, shoving both the gown and chemise down to her waist. Gathering her in his arms, he walked three steps to the thick pile rug that defined the far corner of the cabin, then lowered them both to its softness.

He came to his knees, his gaze burning into hers as he cupped her breasts, defining their softness with worshipful strokes of his fingertips. Nicole’s nipples hardened beneath his touch, his openly carnal stare, and she whimpered, stirring restlessly on the carpet, seeking more … more.

Dustin understood her plea, for his hands shifted to her waist, tugging her clothing past her hips, down her legs and off. Then he stopped, tearing his gaze from hers, taking in her nudity with an awed expression Nicole would remember for the rest of her life.

“Your beauty defies words,” he said hoarsely, devouring her, inch by inch, first with his eyes, then with trembling fingers. “As I said, a miracle.” With that, he lowered his head.

Nicole moaned aloud as his lips closed around her nipple, tugged it into the warm cavern of his mouth, lashed it with purposeful sweeps of his tongue. He repeated the motion again and again, until pinpoints of unbearable pleasure began to shoot through her, converging in a liquid pool between her thighs. Desperately, she tossed about, wanting to savor the magic, yearning to further it.

Again Dustin understood.

He left her breast, moving to sample its mate. This time he lingered only briefly before raising his head, raking her with eyes of midnight fire, the look on his face so profound, it hurt. “I’m drowning,” he muttered hoarsely, barely able to speak. “Nicole, I’m drowning.” His lips found the hollow between her breasts, blazing a trail down her waist, her stomach, her thighs.

Nicole wasn’t certain she’d survive. Everywhere he stroked turned to fire, every unexplored inch of her clamored for his touch. When she heard him whisper, “Open for me, Derby,” she did so without question, knowing she was behaving like a wanton, not giving a damn.

His fingers found her where she most ached for him, gliding through the satiny wetness he’d created. He groaned deep in his chest, a shudder wracking his powerful body as he circled and stroked and awakened the very essence of her.