Chapter 14: Skin to Skin

Words : 1769 Updated : Sep 18th, 2025

Mckenzie Looske kept her voice low, as if she were holding it back. Her body rocked in a steady rhythm-just a little movement, but enough to make every sway feel like a sultry invitation. "Make some noise. Come on, let me hear you," Nixon Walker said, his hand growing firmer. Seeing she didn't resist, he egged her on with some dirty talk. "Moan for me." The stimulation hit her in both body and mind. She had never felt anything like this before, and there was no disgust-only a rush that thrilled her. He kept urging her to be louder, but she couldn't let herself go. The neighbors might hear; her daughter was in the next room. Caution tightened in her throat. At the same time, she burned to please Nixon, so she let out stifled little cries. Those muffled sounds made him run even hotter. His palm rose and fell harder, less controlled with every strike. After a while, her backside was flushed a warm red, the flesh quivering and heated to a feverish blush. Nixon knew he wasn't hurting her. It was the heat in her skin, the flush of being so worked up. At this intensity, there was no way he'd hurt her. He flipped Mckenzie over and moved on top of her, lighting her up in all the right places until she melted beneath him. Her eyes grew dewy with desire, and an inviting smile flickered on her face. Her body still trembled from what had just happened. A single bead of sweat fell from his brow, slid over her collarbone, dropped into the valley of her breasts, and vanished, leaving a glistening trail. Nixon watched her with a greedy focus that never slackened. His gaze was so hot she wanted to bury her face in the sheets. She realized that every time she was with Nixon, a familiar, helpless sense of inferiority crept in. He was an educated man from the city-handsome and bright, young and full of life. She had even heard the neighbors, blunt as always, whispering about him. She longed to have Nixon as her husband, but she knew that was only a dream. Only in moments like this-skin to skin, utterly close-did she feel she truly possessed him. Ophelia had come home and said Mr. Walker would stay one year and then go back to the city. What did their little mountain village have that would make anyone want to come back? Once he left, he would probably never return. All she wanted in that one year was to indulge herself a little, to leave no regrets. She had lost far too much in this life; now she only wanted to hold Nixon for herself. Thinking that, Mckenzie rolled her hips harder. Her eyes narrowed; soft moans, "Mm, mm," slipped from her lips, and she felt no shame at all. Seeing how eagerly she was calling out, Nixon teased her until she turned to jelly, boneless and limp against his chest. "Cuilan, do you like this?" he murmured into her ear. "I like it. I'm lucky to have met you. I like you so much. Don't leave me, please don't go." "I won't go. I'll be your husband." "Okay." She knew the promise didn't mean much, yet in that moment she believed it. She reached for him then, running her hands up and down his body, stoking the flames. Mckenzie had done the farm work and chores herself for years. Her skin wasn't as soft as a girl's anymore. Even so, when those slightly callused palms glided over him, he felt a tingle all over. Nixon took her hand and unfolded her fingers in his palm. Her skin hardly tanned; the backs of her hands were pale. In the center and around the joints, though, a thin layer of yellowed callus showed, looking out of place against her pale skin. When he pressed lightly, it felt firm. These were marks earned by long labor and wear-the signs of a woman who knew how to endure hardship. "You've had it tough." "It's nothing-just what it takes to get by." Mckenzie turned her head toward the door, toward the living room where Ophelia Reed sat. Whenever she mentioned Ophelia, her face lit with a soft, unmistakably maternal glow. "I don't want anything else from life. It is what it is. I just want Ophelia to get out of these mountains, to see the world outside, and never have to come back. Things are fairer out there. She won't have to curry favor with the village chief just to get what she needs." Nixon's chest tightened. He bent and lowered his head, then tasted her again, kissing and biting. Mckenzie shut her eyes. The soft moans rose once more, "Ah, ah," and a pink flush swept over her skin. At the height of it, while he gave her pleasure, Nixon whispered in a low, gentle voice. "If you need help with farm work, come find me. I've never done much of it, but if it's heavy lifting, I can help. Your hands are so lovely. It hurts to see them callused already." He didn't slow. Even as his words caressed her, his body drove in with a wild, all-out rhythm. That mix of words and touch made Mckenzie's voice climb higher and higher. For a moment, she wanted to forget the world, to give herself completely to this hard, driving rhythm and be happy, just once. But she couldn't. Even if not for her own sake, she had to think of her child. A girl's reputation mattered here. She feared a single careless sound would stain her daughter, so she kept holding herself back. "Faster!" she gasped. They clung to each other, cheek to cheek, breath mingling, bodies rubbing in a gentle grind. When they came at the same time, they felt the same breathless catch in their chests. It was a perfect fit, the kind of harmony that let two people climax together. Nixon felt he had stumbled upon a treasure. The tightness that held him only made him drive harder.

Chapter 14: Skin to Skin

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