“Fuck, baby! I’m trying to make this last!”
I nipped his chest, and he growled a warning. He didn’t like that? I’d have to keep that in mind.
“Fuck me,” I demanded, and he laughed softly, his breath teasing my ear.
“Long and slow and easy, Quinn.”
I went a little crazy. I hooked my ankles together, concentrated the way I would when I was setting one of my mounts for a jump, and then rolled. The abrupt movement took Mark by surprise, and I sat astride his hips, feeling his cock deep in my bowels and bit down hard on my lip, just containing a whimper.
“Dammit, Quinn. Are you okay?”
“I’m—” It took a moment for me to catch my breath. “I’m fine.”
“All right, then.” His eyes glittered. “Giddy up, baby.”
I rose up onto my knees, as if I was posting to a trot, and then sank back down. I had been an Olympic-class rider after all.