Dominating Amy by Emily Ryan-Davis Read Free Book Online Page A

off.”
    “Oh. I didn’t realize.” Her shoulders hunched, a certain sign of shame.
    “We haven’t paid attention for a long time.”
    She jerked a nod, blinking rapidly. Tears.
    “Don’t cry.” He kissed her ear and let her go. “I feel like Mexican.”
    He left her to take care of dinner and her phone calls, and switched directions to the laundry room. All his clothes were in baskets near the dryer these days, a symbolic material separation. He gathered an armload of underwear and t-shirts and took them back to the bedroom, determined to reclaim his half of the bureau.
    Amy’s voice murmured in the other room. He was tempted to boot her laptop and do a quick internet search for advice on handling a submissive woman outside the context of fetish sex, but good sense told him to put it off until a less emotionally-charged time. Instinct would have to do. In the meantime, he wasn’t entirely ignorant. He at least had his parents as examples in how not to behave.
    As an attempt to keep his libido in check, he pulled on a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. When she padded into the room, damp pink hair curling around her ears and pale little nipples hard, he was glad he’d had the forethought to cover himself. Horniness was giving his good sense a run for its money.
    “Forty-five minutes.” She worried her lip. “I hope shrimp is alright. I didn’t know what you had yesterday. Did you have seafood?”
    “No. Shrimp is fine. Come here.”
    Amy inched closer. “Can I ask a question?”
    Mac spread his knees and drew her between his legs. The flannel definitely wasn’t helping. “Yes.”
    “Why don’t you want to have sex again?” Her hands fluttered to rest on his shoulders.
    “Because I don’t know what to do for you.” He leaned in, resting his forehead above her navel, breathing in the scent of her skin. “I haven’t known for a long time.”
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter Eight
     
     
    Vulnerable . She never thought of him as vulnerable. He was tall and broad, strong and masculine. He was a protector, never one who needed protection. Viewing him this way, though, seated on the edge of the bed, blue and white pajama pants barely covering the physical manifestation of his need—this way, she was inspired to protect him.
    I’m his only natural predator. He could defend himself from everything but her. She never realized how much power she held over him, not until that thought dropped down heavy on her mind.
    “I’ve been hurting you.”
    He slid his hands around the backs of her thighs. “I’m not broken. I promise it’s no hurt we can’t heal.”
    He kissed her stomach, nipped at the fragile skin above her navel. Amy shivered and goose bumps spread out in waves from his kiss. Her breasts firmed, her toes curled. She wanted to work through their emotional baggage, but more, she wanted him to take her again, to slam into her body over and over, once more promising he wouldn’t leave. That he’d take her as she was.
    “Mac,” she whispered, fingering the hair waving at the nape of his neck.
    He tilted his head back, met her eyes with a question.    
    “We have half an hour,” she said. “More.”
    His fingers flexed, squeezing her thighs. She ran her fingernails around the curve of his ear and it was his turn to shudder. “Amy--”
    “Please.”
    “I don’t have toys.”
    “I don’t need them.”
    He closed his eyes. “I can’t hit you. I can’t hurt you.”
    “This…it isn’t about kinky sex. I miss you. I want to be part of you.”
    He smoothed his hands up to cup her bottom, kneading and tickling the crease between her cheeks.
    “Please,” she repeated. “It’s been so long. I need you again. You don’t have to be gentle. Or perfect. Just deep inside.”
    His fingertips teased lower, one circling her entrance. Amy swallowed and dug her nails into his skin. “Mac.”
    His shoulders tensed beneath her hands. “I want to come inside you again, until you’re overflowing,