I gripped her ass cheeks, pulling her even tighter against me.
Her back arched. Her mouth left mine as she panted, sharp and rhythmic.
“Shade,” she huffed.
“Use me, Ginger,” I murmured, dropping my mouth to her neck, grazing my teeth against her delicate skin. “Take your pleasure from me.”
She whined. “I don’t—” She broke off with a sharp cry when I sank my teeth into her neck. The bite wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but merely to distract.
I lifted my head, meeting her heated gaze briefly before capturing her mouth in another searing kiss.
And then I dropped us backwards.
Using my shadows to cushion my fall and keep her legs from getting smashed, I fell onto my back on the riverbank, keeping Ginger pressed to me. Her knees settled on either sideof my hips, and she startled, only for a moment, before leaning back in, resuming our intoxicating kiss.
Her heart sped even faster, and my own pulse thrummed to match.
In this position, my hands were free to explore, and Ginger could grind herself on me however she needed.
I shoved her cloak aside and stroked my fingers over her ass, her back, her neck, every inch of her I could reach. She turned her head and licked at my mouth, her tongue a delicious torment. The kiss turned frantic. Frenzied.
Our mouths danced together, neither of us fighting for dominance, but both yearning for as much luscious contact as possible. Her blunt teeth scraped against my bottom lip, drawing a groan from my throat.
My swollen cock ached in a silent plea.
I grabbed her hips with both hands, shifting our bodies until she perfectly straddled the swollen shaft of my cock.
She gasped. I let my head fall back to the hard ground.
Only our clothes separated my cock from her soft, wet heat. I could practically feel her arousal soaking through the fabric.
She wanted this just as badly as I did.
Almost.
I squeezed her hips, pulling her down and dragging her forward a few inches.
Sparkes danced in front of my eyes.
I was going to come, just like this. I was already impossibly close to bursting.
Ginger planted both hands on the center of my chest. Breath sawed in and out of her lungs. Experimentally, she swirled her hips.
The friction was somewhere between bliss and torture. I groaned.
“Just like that,” I encouraged, the words gravel in my throat. “Make yourself come by grinding yourself on my cock. I bet you’re so close already, aren’t you? I haven’t even taken your clothes off, yet.”
“Yes,” she whispered quietly. I glanced to find her face flushed, her expression tightening.
She was embarrassed.
That was unacceptable.
I tightened my fingers and bucked my hips, driving my erection into her, intensifying the friction. She huffed on an exhale. Her hips resumed motion, grinding, swirling.
“That’s it,” I encouraged. “Good girl.”
Her motions sped. She settled more of her weight onto my pelvis, gaining confidence, taking control.
