Free Uncommon Passion by Anne Calhoun

slide down his shaft, but the next time she took him all the way inside.
    “Go on,” he growled. “Take it.”
    Yes. This. Oh yes, this. Keep it slow at first, feel heat and pressure build. Feel your head drop back.
    Feel your skin heat up and glow. Feel him inside you, yours for the taking. Feel want grow into demand,
    demand swell into need.
    Feel.
    She was gasping, trembling, overwhelmed, unsure what was coming or how to get there, knowing only
    that she had to have it. Ben flattened one hand at the base of her spine while the other skated over her hip.
    Once again his thumb pressed firmly against her clitoris. With her next downstroke her skin tightened and
    on the next, fire raced from her core along her nerves as she tipped over the edge, her swollen walls
    clenching around Ben’s length. Soft cries echoed in the truck’s back seat. Only when the release began to
    ebb did she realize they came from her.
    When she opened her eyes she blushed, hard, because based on his face he’d watched . . . everything.
    She ducked her head to let her hair slip over her face.
    “No,” he said, and tucked it behind her ear. “That was hot. That was very, very hot. Now do the same
    thing for me.”
    The demand made her blush harder, but she eased back into the rhythm, and studied his face for cues.
    Faster, or slower? Hard, or soft?
    Sweat trickled from his temple to his jaw. She remembered his response to her teeth, leaned forward
    and licked the bead from the stubble, then closed her teeth on his jaw. His big body shuddered under her,
    so she did it again, testing the edge of her teeth along his jaw, then more gently on his lower lip, and all the
    while she took him into her body with no other goal than returning the pleasure back to him, of making
    him feel what she felt.
    His shaft throbbed inside her and his hands closed hard on her buttocks. His head tipped back, exposing
    his throat. She took advantage, biting the straining tendon before licking the hurt to soothe it. Emboldened,
    she braced her hands on his shoulders and dug her fingernails into the taut muscles. A shudder rolled
    through him. He’d held himself entirely still under her, but with the sting of her nails his hips lifted into her
    as she slid down.
    Now she got it. Slow, but hard. Impact like hammer strikes with body and mouth, and she could make
    him lose control like she did. Her next moves matched his intensity, and moments later a blood flush
    bloomed on his cheekbones as he fought to keep his eyes open. Reveling in the delight and desire coursing
    through her body, she rode him until his arm locked around her hips as he pulsed inside her.
    She eased forward to lie against his heaving chest until the tension in his muscles eased. There was so
    much power to this, female power.
    No wonder this wasn’t allowed.
    “Off,” he said.
    Their bodies disengaged when she sat back on her heels at the far end of the bench seat. In one smooth
    motion he shifted upright, then out of the cab. His motions were hidden but she assumed he was removing
    the condom. He added something to the sack of trash generated by their picnic, then jerked his jeans up and
    buckled his belt.
    Modesty kept her from leaving the truck until she found her bra and blouse on the floorboards and put
    them on. He turned his back to her, running his hand from crown to forehead before buttoning his shirt.
    She stepped into her panties, tucked in her blouse, smoothed down her skirt. Hands on his hips, he gazed
    across the creek at the fallow pastureland.
    “Do you want to say hi to your parents? It’s a long drive out here without stopping in for a moment.”
    He looked at her. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “No.”
    For the first time that night an embarrassed flush swept up her neck, into her cheeks. Of course he
    wouldn’t want to stop in and say hello to his folks with the woman he’d spent two hours rolling around in
    the back seat of his pickup truck.
    “I could stay in the truck,”