Page 6 of Ridin' Free
“Phoenix—if you don’t move, I will,” warned Twister.
Slowly, I righted my head and inched forward, pressing my hands against his abs for support before I began to rock.
I eased my hips up as far as I could, and he was still inside of me. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel it, and I whimpered as I sank my hips back down until I was all the way full. I repeated the act, luxuriating in all of Twister’s manhood until I was so turned on I felt desperate for more.
I picked up the pace, and I rode him.
I rode him hard.
He felt so good, and I got so lost, I didn’t know where I was.
With my eyes closed, my mouth agape, my throat the passageway through which an unsung melody of pleasure seemed to have been escaping, I took all I wanted and then some.
I couldn’t remember the last time a man made me so hot. If it didn’t mean breaking my stride, I would have taken my dress off—but I was going to come, and it was going to be bliss, and I wasn’t stopping.
Not for anything.
Not for anyone.
I was aware of Twister’s hands on my thighs—the fingers of one digging into the flesh below my blade while the other grazed from my knee to my ass as I rode. His palm cracked against my skin with a slap, and I was too high, too lost to be bothered.
Then he did it again—his fingers gripping hold of my ass cheek after the fact—and it was as if he’d smacked away whatever barrier was between me and my orgasm.
“Oh,fuck!Yes—yes—yes!” I cried.
Pleasure rippled through me, and my body trembled as my sex strangled his engorged length. I was so gone, so consumed, I heard a ringing in my ears—as if my mind was calling me back to the here and now.
I barely even noticed when Twister sat up.
It wasn’t until his hand was wrapped around the front of my throat that my orgasmic fog began to dissipate.
Except, before I could begin to panic, his mouth was on mine.
And before I could pull away, the hand at the front of my throat circled around until it was at my nape, keeping me close.
And before I could gather the strength to press my palms against his chest and push him away, his tongue and a deepgroanwere sweeping through my mouth.
I didn’t know if it was the taste of his groan, or the warmth of his tongue; it could have been the haze of my explosive orgasm, or the poison of the tequila running through my veins—but one thing was for certain…
I hadn’t been kissed in ten years—andthiskiss, with his beard scratching at my face, his dick still inside of me, and his fingers in my hair—it was delicious.
I kissed him back, my tongue battling with his, and I wondered if he could tell how out of practice I was. If he could, he didn’t seem to mind.
We kissed until I could barely breathe; until the muscles at my core began to relax; until Twister pulled away enough to look me in the eye and pant, “You got more in you, baby?”
It was then I realized I was wrapped in his arms. He loosened his hold around me, reaching down to grab hold of my ass before he forced my hips to move. My eyes widened at the reminder that he was still hard and filling me full.
I knew he noticed my reaction when he flashed a crooked smile and added, “This Stallion can go a few more miles.”
There was no point in fighting it.
If he wanted more, so did I.
I pressed my hands against his chest, shoving him onto his back.
He chuckled but didn’t resist, and I rode until we both unraveled.
He wokethe nextmorning naked and on his belly, the sun pouring into the room through the blinds that had never been closed. The sheets smelled like tropical laundry detergent, sex, andher.
