Free Peyton's Ride (Riding With The Hunt, #1) by Jennifer Van Gunten

harder.
    “Uh—”
    Her pussy rippled around him. His balls drew up tight and cum shot into her in what felt like an endless stream. Wild, unfettered magic flowed between them, and a glow started in her solar plexus, spreading out to her extremities. With his shaft still buried inside her, it rebounded into him, and he felt like he exploded and was remade again.
    She’d always been beautiful, but in that moment, her appearance stopped his heart for a few beats.
    He traced her eyebrows and the slope of her nose and then kissed her with a simple press of his lips to hers.
    No one could compare to her. No one would ever be as perfect for him as she was.

Chapter Eight
    L ethargy and calm peacefulness curled around her. The heat and weight of Ian’s body pinned her to the cushions, his semi-rigid shaft still inside her pussy. Sex had never been so fulfilling and exciting for her before. She’d never had an orgasm as explosive and full bodied as she’d just had with him.
    And more than one. A slow smile crept across her mouth, and she twisted her head to the side. His forearm rested near her face, and she loved the way he still smelled icy and wild, but now a new fragrance wafted from him. Sex and sweat mixed in with the underlying scents inherent to him. She kissed the flesh nearest her and licked it. The second he was ready for more, she was totally on board.
    So she wasn’t a cannibal...she was a nymphomaniac cougar. Wait, not a cougar. He’d said so.
    How old was he, anyway?
    Shit, who cared? The man had a pierced dick and he knew how to use it.
    “There should be a law.”
    “About?” He nuzzled at her neck and cleavage, giving her wet, open mouthed kisses.
    “Cocks. All should be pierced. Only way to go.”
    Warm air flowed over the damp smears he’d left all over her upper body, and then his throaty laugh rolled over her again, a sound so sensual she curled her toes.
    The tattoo sleeve on his right arm drew her attention. She wanted to taste it. Taste him.
    There.
    Vines and dark-green leaves twined large, white blossoms in a circle. The black shape of a horse with red eyes, mane and tail flying on invisible wind raced through the middle of the design. With one short swipe, she brushed her tongue over it.
    “I licked your horse.” The absurdity of her statement struck her, and she laughed. What a ridiculous thing to say to someone after sex.
    “Hmm?” He cocked his head and seemed confused.
    “I licked,” she flicked the horse again with the tip of her tongue and nibbled it, “your horse.”
    The green of his irises glowed brighter, and she caught her breath when her own magic resonated in response. Like a tuning fork banged on a marble floor, as the magical energy in him spilled forth, something in her wound tighter and tighter. His cock swelled. A feral, desperate sound flowed from his throat and a coil of something raw and wild burst open inside her.
    Compulsion drove her, sent blood pooling between her legs and centered in her clit. She dug her nails into his ass with both hands and bucked her hips.
    More. She had to have more of him. Right now. Any doubt she’d harbored about whether or not she wanted him as her mate dissolved. No, she didn’t love him, not yet.
    But she knew she would.
    The hoops through his nipples dangled, a temptation she had to have. She closed her mouth over the nearest one and alternated biting and sucking the area. He rolled his hips in a circle, but didn’t give her what she wanted: the sensation of every long, thick inch of his dick dragging through her slick pussy. The steel ball providing extra friction across her walls.
    Powered by frustration and muscles she’d never realized she possessed, she rolled them over and sat up on his groin. Surprise and delight chased across his features. Being on top had never been a personal favorite position for her; she didn’t like feeling as though she was on display. But the wide eyed, slack jawed expression as he focused on her