Page 65 of Skins Game

He hadn’t even conceived of the words that had tumbled out of his mouth earlier until the press of her skin had evaporated his boundaries. She fascinated him, every movement, every word. He wanted to possess her and take her world into his.

He spread her knees and angled her hips back, then pressed himself inside her core again, working himself inside her to the hilt with slow pulses until he was sheathed inside her, his hips pressed against that pretty, yielding ass of hers.

He didn’t want to hurt her. He knew he could because he was too big, too strong. She was a kitten in his grasp, and the drive to take her could wipe that from his consciousness.

Nicole occupied all his attention, from his beauty-appreciating frontal lobes to his bestial brain stem that demanded he empty himself in her, impregnate her and pass on his genes like an oak tree seeding the world if he could.

But he ran his hands over her shoulders, her arms, her breasts and back, stroking her, his palms and fingers grasping her flesh and releasing, slipping over her scalp through her hair that had come undone and curtained her shoulders, and finally over her stomach and down her belly, slipping between her legs, rubbing over her clit with each surge inside her and then pressing in her stomach to compress her channel and G-spot against his cock.

She jerked in his arms, writhing against his body, her breath quickening as she tightened inside.

He grabbed her with both arms, holding her body against his chest as he thrust into her. Her head dropped back on his shoulder as she arched, straining as she came again.

Her pulses ran over his cock,fucking incredible.

He rose higher in his head, the wildness swirling in him like madness. His hips jerked, an undeniable animal urge and a downhill runaway train and then a moment of bliss, expansion into nothing, he was a wavelength flowing through the universe, and collapsed back into himself.

His body throbbed in release, relief like diving into cool water after a lifetime of his skin on fire.

He was clinging to her as she flopped limp against the back of the couch, his arms wrapped around her, thighs blocking her in.

Slowly, the world fell back into place, reassembling into order.

He wasn’t standing aloof like an oak tree in the forest scattering acorns to the winds.

Nicole’s sweet scent, the velvet of her skin, the sharpness of her gaze, and the intensity of her work were transmuting him.

He hadn’t just been touching her, feeling her soft feminine skin for the eroticism of it.

The last man to touch every inch of her skin had beenhim.

It was possessive, the outward manifestation ofMine.

He didn’t want to stand separate and alone like a tree.

He wanted to hoard her like a fucking dragon.

23

Aftermath

NICOLE LAMB

Nicole rolled her forehead on the back of the couch, sweat dripping from her temples.

That second one—secondseriesof orgasms—had wrung every last molecule of energy out of her body. She didn’t have a joule to spare.

Dear God. Dear all the gods. Dear every saint and angel.Kingston had done things to her she’d never felt before.

She had no brain. No braining. No thinkie, no arms-moving, nothing workie.

Nicole could only gasp for breath.

His lips pressed against the back of her neck, her shoulder. “My God, you’re incredible.”

“Right back at you,” she mumbled.

His hands still roved her skin, but lightly, raising goosebumps as he brushed her arms, even her thighs and calves.