" In and out he went. In and out, over and over again until sparks of her earlier desire began to rekindle. He kissed her- long, wet, open-mouthed kisses that stole her breath, even as the vigorous movements of his hips turned her liquid and wanton with need.
She cried out, only this time not in pain, but in longing. Digging her heels into his buttocks, she urged him onward, clasping him to her with a sudden desperation she was helpless to resist.
Arching, she bounded upward to meet him, to take him as far and fast as her body would allow. Keening sounds came from her mouth, moans she barely recognized as her own as she gripped him harder. She remembered him saying something once about liking to ride, and suddenly she knew what he'd meant.
He was riding her- and it was sheer heaven. "

― Tracy Anne Warren , Seduced by His Touch (The Byrons of Braebourne, #2)