His mischievous smile at her cry terrified her, but his mouth covered her, soothing and sucking, and the pleasure swamped her in a wave.
Kingston sat up, still watching her like he was hunting her, and moved one of his thighs to part hers before swooping down to ravage her mouth again.
His muscular thigh pressed between her legs, a rough push, and her hips lifted to ride the pressure that only tightened, tormenting her more. It was closer,shewas closer, but still not deep enough, nothardenough. Thelack,thehunger,was driving her out of her mind.
“Please,” she whispered.
His voice was lower than she’d ever heard him. “Tell me green.”
“Green!”she whimpered. “Green, I told you green,pleasegreen.”
“Good girl,”he growled again.
This time, the soothing was stronger, that her wanting had pleased him, that her surrender was what he really wanted.
He reared back, still holding her hands twisted up in her dress on the arm of the couch because he was so tall that he could reach all of her, and lifted her thigh to bend her knee beside his hips. Slowly, as he watched her like a wolf and she watched him back through her eyelashes of her nearly closed eyelids, he ran his hand down the inside of her leg and under the lace leg band of her panties, gently swiping over her swollen clit.
Exquisite pleasure attacked her, compressing her inside, but it was one touch, barely a stroke, then too long and she was falling, and then another.
It was too little and too much, keeping her from riding over the crest but not allowing her to breathe. Her breath choked in her throat as she tried to push down on him, but his hand pinning her wrists prevented her from bearing down on him.
“Please!” she cried out.
“Oh, no. Not yet,” he said. “I have barely started with you.”
“Then—then—please!”
Her brain wasn’t making words.
He flicked her clit again, another wave of sensation through her that verged on pain except that she craved more-more-more.
His fingers slipped lower, pushing inside her, a deeper rub that she tried to arch against, but his touch was just a little too slow, withholding what she was craving.
“So wet,” he whispered, dragging his finger out and circling her clit with slipperiness.
A thicker fullness invaded her, a stretch.
“That’s it. Take my fingers,” he said.
A deep movement inside her, and the pleasure inside her amplified like a tornado.
“You like it when I curl them, when I stroke you inside.”
He wasn’t asking her. Heknew.
The weight left her wrists and the pressure withdrew, and she was empty and cold and crazed lying on the couch. She almost sobbed.
Kingston was standing beside her, stripping his shirts off over his head, and he wasripped,swollen muscles braided under his skin that flexed as he threw his shirt and undershirt on the floor and unbuckled his belt.
Nicole didn’t move her arms from above her head where he’d tied them, but she watched him because getting an eyeful of that hard, muscular manflesh was electrifying.
Yeah,thatman was the man who wanted her.
He shoved his trousers off with his shoes and socks and was on her again, lying on her, crushing her with his weight and the heat of his skin against hers.
More.She neededmore.Not just on her butinher.
His knee shoved between her legs again, parting her thighs, and he reached beyond where her hands were to the side table drawer.
