Recalling her own helpless ecstasy when he’d done this to her, Nicole ignored her husband’s protests, concentrated on the mysteries of his body and the miracle of his response. She savored his size, his velvety hardness, the warm droplets of fluid he was unable to repress.
“Nicole … God, sweetheart, you’re killing me.” Desperately, Dustin fought to withstand the exquisite torture, broken love words escaping him, his knuckles white with the strain of holding back.
With a hoarse growl, he reached his limit.
“No more.” Dragging her from him, he rolled her onto her back, pressing her thighs wide apart. He knelt between her legs, staring down at her, his forehead slick with sweat, his midnight eyes nearly black with passion. “I’m about to explode.” He leaned forward, his fingers finding and opening her, sliding inside.
Nicole’s breath caught in her throat as Dustin stroked her delicate tissues, stretched her narrow passage to receive him. Sensuously, his fingers glided in and out of her heated wetness, his thumb circling and teasing the tight little bud that cried out for his possession.
“Now—oh, Dustin, now.” She sobbed aloud, twisting on the pillow, reaching for him.
“Not yet,” he muttered, his chest heaving with the exertion of holding back. “I’m too close to the edge. The minute I go into you, I’m going to erupt. I need you with me.
Drowning in passion, Nicole shook her head, realizing on some impalpable level that he was worried about giving her pleasure. Dustin, please … she wanted to shout. I’m already over the edge. Please … please …
All words and thoughts vanished as he bent down, utterly possessing her with his mouth, his fingers continuing their unbearable assault as his lips and tongue devoured her sweetness.
Nicole shrieked, sensation slamming through her, screaming along her nerve endings, hurtling to a crashing peak beneath her husband’s sensual onslaught. “Dustin!” she sobbed, her entire being shattering in a wild, unbearable release.
Instantly, he raised up, thrust deep inside her, erupting even as he did. His climax intensified as Nicole’s tremors convulsed around him, and he surged forward, pouring into her in wild, drenching bursts of completion. “Nicole … hold me,” he ground out, lifting her legs higher, wider, needing to be as deep inside her as possible.
Nicole wrapped herself around him, gasping his name with each flood of his seed, each spasm of her body.
They collapsed in each other’s arms, Dustin’s head dropping into the crook of her neck, his weight pressing her into the mattress, his body buried inside her still.
Eyes closed, Nicole drifted, stroking her husband’s damp back, conscious of every magnificent nuance—his lingering shudders, his harsh, rasping breaths, but, most of all, the warm wetness of his seed inside her, the tangible evidence of their union. “I love you,” she whispered.
Shakily, Dustin raised up, gazed solemnly into his wife’s eyes. “God, how I love you, Mrs. Kingsley. And I was right. You are a miracle. My miracle.”
Tears glistened on her lashes. “You’re quite miraculous yourself, my lord.”
They fell silent, savoring the aftermath, awed by the total oneness spawned by their lovemaking.
Long moments later, Dustin stirred, sifting strands of Nicole’s hair through his fingers, and smiling that lazy, bone-melting smile that made her breath catch.
“What?” she murmured.
“I was just thinking that you did away with my noble intentions once again. I meant for this, our first joining as husband and wife, to be all I denied you the first time—slow, tender, prolonged. It was anything but.”
“That’s true. Are you disappointed?”
Again, that heart-stopping smile. “I’m drunk with discovery. Ecstatic with happiness. And insane with love. But disappointed? No.” He brushed her lips with his. “Besides, we have countless opportunities ahead of us tonight. This was but the first.”
Nicole shivered, her pulse quickening. “Also true. Tell me, my lord, how long must we wait before taking advantage of our second opportunity?”
Dustin chuckled, moving sensuously against her, stirring as if the past frenzied moments had never occurred. “You tell me, my lady. Is now too soon?”
“Now would be ideal,” she assured him, lifting her arms around his neck.
“Good. Then perhaps this second time will be slow and tender.” His words ended on a groan as Nicole arched up, took him deeper into herself. “Then again,” he amended huskily, “perhaps not.”
Long, languorous hours later, Nicole curled contentedly in her husband’s arms, whole and happy and utterly replete … despite the fact that they had yet to master slow, tender, and prolonged.
“Sleepy?” Dustin murmured, kissing her shoulder.
“Yes and no. Too tired to stay awake, too exhilarated to sleep. Besides,” she added, sighing, “I don’t want to sleep. I want to make this night last forever.”
“It will, darling. I promise you, it will.” He propped himself up on one elbow, gestured toward the window. “The stars are out,” he observed.
“I know. I’ve been watching them shine down on us.”
“Have you? And have you also been wishing?” he prompted softly.
She smiled, shaking her head. “I have no need to. All my wishes have been fulfilled.” A slight pause. “All but one.”
“And what wish is that?”
With aching tenderness, Nicole touched her locket, met her husband’s gaze. “To have your child.”
A look of profound emotion crossed Dustin’s face. “I love you, my beautiful stargazer,” he said huskily. “And there’s only one wish that means more to me than your having my child, and that wish is right here in my arms.”
“I’m no longer a wish,” she breathed, laying her palm against his jaw. “I’m very much a reality.”
“Not merely a reality.” He turned his lips into her palm, renewed desire shimmering to life. “A dream come true.”
This time, at last, was slow, tender … and very, very prolonged.
Afterward, they slept in each other’s arms, neither of them aware that, as a result of their last precious union, the wishing locket was blissfully empty, the fulfillment of Nicole’s ultimate wish nestled safely in her womb.
But the locket knew. That final wish soared forth, an unknown but nonetheless tangible dream come true, deemed by fate to join the miracles of twilight and stargazing.
There it twinkled in the darkness and sailed joyously on the wind.
A Biography of Andrea Kane
Andrea Kane is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than twenty-five novels—including fourteen historical and twelve contemporary novels—that have been published in sixteen countries and translated into more than twenty languages. Whether she’s writing about Regency England, America on the brink of civil war, or New York Police Department detectives caught up in mayhem and murder, Kane’s ability to create unforgettable stories has earned her a loyal worldwide following.
Kane published My Heart’s Desire, her first historical novel and the first book in the Barrett Family series, in 1991. Others quickly followed, including Samantha, the second book in that series; Echoes in the Mist and Whispers in the Wind (the Kingsley in Love series); and the acclaimed Black Diamond, Thornton-Bromleigh Family, and Colby Coin series. Stand-alone historic romances include Dream Castle (1992), Masque of Betrayal (1993), Emerald Garden (1996), and The Music Box (1998).
Kane’s groundbreaking romantic thriller Run for Your Life (2000) became an instant New York Times bestseller. This was followed by a series of suspense novels featuring NYPD detective-turned-private investigator Pete “Monty” Montgomery. Kane’s current contemporary series introduced FBI special agents Sloane Burbank and Derek Parker. Other thrillers include No Way Out, Scent of Danger, Twisted, I’ll Be Watching You, The Girl Who Disappeared Twice, and, most recently, The Line Between Here and Gone.
Kane is a self-proclaimed “cerebral” type, and prides
herself on her questioning, analytical mind, which has led to her passion for mysteries. She has spent many happy hours with the classic novels of Agatha Christie, trying to outsmart Hercule Poirot.
She is also a die-hard sentimentalist. She cries at old movies and believes in striving for happily-ever-after. In Kane’s words: “The idealist in me loves writing romance, and the pragmatist in me loves writing suspense. I feel very fortunate that I’m able to combine the two, and give you books that keep you at the edge of your seat, but at the same time, make you care.”
Kane lives in New Jersey with her family.
Andrea Kane as a little girl, with her first puppy, Inky, named for the black spots on his white back.
An eight-year-old Kane, a proud sleepaway camper for the first time.
A photo from Kane’s trip to the Thousand Islands (on the border of Canada and the United States) to research and write My Heart’s Desire. Kane toured the area by boat.
Kane and her husband, Brad, trying to simulate a novel’s cover pose while wearing period clothing.
Kane and her daughter, Wendi, outside Buckingham Palace during a weeklong research trip to England in 1998.
Kane and her daughter at Cinderella’s Castle at Walt Disney World Resort. Kane believes that the castle is the most romantic place for creative inspiration.
The first Kane family cruise, to Bermuda: rough waters but happy faces.
Kane posing with friends in various period costumes.
Kane’s publication party and her first book signing for the release of My Heart’s Desire in 1991.
Kane’s original New Jersey Romance Writers team; she was first conference chair and then president of the organization.
Kane and Wendi at the Romantic Times Booklovers Convention in San Antonio, in full costume.
Acknowledgments
TO THOSE PEOPLE WHO rode the tidal wave of deadline with me, each in their own incomparable way:
Pat, whose emotional support defies words.
Laura, whose encouraging countdown calls made my telephone answering machine a friend rather than a foe.
Helen, who researched obscure historical facts on a moment’s notice and has yet to be unnerved by my urgency or to come up empty-handed.
Lisa, whose equestrian knowledge was surpassed only by her consummate faith and friendship.
Plunk, who reads each book as if it were her own and demands almost as much of me as I do of myself.
And most of all, to my family, who withstood the grueling weeks of absenteeism, exhaustion, and tension, and who ultimately cheered beside me when Nicole and Dustin’s story turned out to be all I prayed it would be.
My thanks to you all.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
copyright © 1996 by Andrea Kane
cover design by Heidi North
978-1-4532-6557-4
This edition published in 2012 by Open Road Integrated Media
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Andrea Kane, Wishes in the Wind
(Series: Kingsleys in Love # 2)
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