Free Snow Bound by Dani Wade

his defined muscles and hard angles; now she studied the most masculine part of him. Large, as she’d been able to tell from the stre tch of h er body around him. F eminine pride surged through her as he stood straight and proud from the cradle of his thighs.
    While she looked him over thoroughly, his penis throbbed as if to catch her notice, bringing a quirk to her mouth. Nerves tingled in her stomach as s he moved to rest on the mattress betwee n his knees. With hard pressure she stroked her hands up his sculpted legs, cupping his wide thighs, then retreating with a scrape of her nails. His sharp intake of breath was both an encouragement and a reward. She repeated the caress until his hips arched from the bed and his fists dug into the mattress.
    “Payback is its own reward, don’t you think?” she asked.
    His groan filled the air, sending heat shivering through her to pool between her thighs. She’d wanted to torture him, to tease him in order to feel her own sexual strength, to exert the same control over him that he had over her. But to her surprise, liquid heat flowed from her core , a renewed interest that she wouldn’t have thought possible after the decadent explosions of a few hours ago. Then again, Damon was obviously not a man who fell into the “ one orgasm and snore ” category either.
    Definitely a step up.
    She let her hands journey fa rther , stroking and scrapin g his lower belly before travel ing south again. Every groan from his straining voice was like music, every lift of his hips a plea.
    She wante d so much to give him what he obviously wanted, but held back, hoping the wait would make it that much better. This time when she stret ched forward she let her breasts slide against his skin, nipples brushing hair-roughened thighs . His hands snapped to her shoulders, holding her still as he rubbed against her.
    She breathed deep, eyes drifting closed as she sav ored th e feel of his soft skin against hers. The steel of his shaft forged with each thrust between her breasts , almost painful ag ainst that most sensitive place yet creating an ache down below. H er mouth water ed in anticipation.
    Looking down, she glimpsed the darkening head in contrast to her pale skin, the red marks of abrasion, and literally ached.
    With h is next retreat, her mouth found the head of his cock in a smooth motion. H is hardness met her soft , wet warmth. The broad head was meltingly smooth against her tongue, a tantalizing texture she craved. Bracing her h ands on his thighs, she mimic ked the thrust and retreat of intercourse, taking him to the back of her throat. Her lips traced the contours of his cock with aching tenderness.
    From deep in his throat , a sound of frustration exploded . “More, Tori. Harder,” he begged.
    Immediately she tightened the clasp of her mouth, roughening the friction. His moan was all the encouragement she needed. Her fingers dug into his thighs, massaging the tense muscles in time to her pulls.
    Without warning his legs bent, jerking her off center. Damon spread his thighs wi de, opening his core to her in what she could only imagine was a gesture of trust from any male. She braced herself on her knees but kept her suction tight.
    “Like this, Tori.” Damon traced the length of her arms down to her hands, then guided them right where he want ed them most. One curled around the base, the other cupped over the loose sac beneath. His much bigger hand covered her own, showing her just how hard he need ed her to squeeze . After a few moments catching the rhythm, coordination became natural .
    Withou t a pause she tortured him , fascinated by the play of hardness, moisture, and slick skin.
    “Baby, let me make it good for you too.”
    On her next upsurge she released him with a pop. “Now, Damon,” she said as she rested back on her heels. “I appreciate you being a gentleman beyond measure, and as much as I hate to turn you down, I think I’m just a little too sore for any more rough