Free Forbidden Fling (Wildwood Book 1) by Skye Jordan

watch her climb over and over. Wanted to feel her quiver in his arms.
    But he also wanted to fuck her. Wanted to push her back, grip her hips, and watch them collide as he pulled her onto his cock with explosive force. Wanted to hear her scream.
    He wanted it all.
    And before he could decide, she leaned past him, grabbed something on the bed, then pushed his shoulder. “Lay back.”
    She’d pulled a pillow forward and kissed him, pushing his head back into the softness. Then straightened, which drove him deeper.
    “Je-sus,” he groaned.
    Delaney laughed. “If you like that, you’ll love this.” The moonlight shone on her damp skin, outlining her breasts, her belly. She combed her hair off her face, dropped her head back, and gathered the thick mass in her hands, piling it on top of her head. “Because this is where that ride I promised you begins.”
    With the sensuality and beauty and skill of a belly dancer, Delaney rocked her hips, drawing his cock out of her juicy warmth to the very tip, then drove him back in with one fluid lunge.
    And once the dance began, Ethan was ready to beg for relief. Her movements were slow and methodical and utterly maddening. Push, pull. Glide, stroke.
    Watching her whole body undulate as she slowly fucked him crazy was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. He slid his hands over her, feeling the flex of her abs, the softness of her breasts, the hard peaks of her nipples. She was slim and toned and stunningly sexual, and she lost herself in the rhythm, the pleasure, as if she were moving to music.
    “After you come, we’re going to see just how long it takes you to get hard inside me again . . .” She leaned back, hands on his knees behind her, and rocked her pelvis, drawing his cock from her body, then driving him back in. She pushed him balls deep again, drawing a chest-deep moan from Ethan, then bent forward, kissed him, and whispered, “And when you’re hard again, I’ll ride you in reverse .”
    His mind was still spinning when she straightened and picked up the rhythm. And the sight was as wicked as promised—his engorged, slick cock stretching her pussy with each stroke while the rest of her beauty remained on moonlit display. Coupled with the friction, it didn’t take long before Ethan found his fingers digging into her hips, drawing her down on his cock harder and faster, harder and faster, harder and faster.
    His orgasm had been building from the moment he’d seen her at Patterson’s, but as much as he wanted this time with Delaney to last, holding out had become more pain than pleasure. Just when he was about to let go, her fingernails bit into his thighs. Her head dropped back. Mouth open. Brow creased in that look of pained bliss.
    “Oh, God,” she uttered, her walls pulsing around his cock. “Ah . . . God . . .”
    She clenched around Ethan’s cock, pulsing, pulsing, pulsing. That was the most beautiful feeling in the world, having his cock massaged, squeezed, and coated with Delaney Hart’s hot juice. She bowed and jerked and twisted and shivered in what had to be one of the most intense orgasms he’d ever witnessed.
    And as Delaney bowed backward, crying out, Ethan’s orgasm hit and demanded more. He gripped her hips and pounded through the demand, his release coming in hard, convulsive waves that wrung out every muscle.
    Delaney collapsed on top of him, her weight still on her knees, and they lay there together in a panting, sweaty tangle. For long moments, neither of them moved or spoke.
    Then she sighed. A hot knot tightened at the center of Ethan’s chest. A knot that felt strangely . . . good.
    And that little “good” put the fear of God into his heart, helping him refocus on the fact that he’d just hooked up with her. Fulfilled a fantasy. Nothing more.
    She groaned and pushed off his chest. “I don’t think we need to wait and see how long it takes you to get hard again. You’ve proved ample virility.” When he laughed,