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

and every inch of your skin smells like me. You think I don’t want to claim you, force every stranger on the street to acknowledge you belong to me, but you’re wrong. For months, all I’ve been able to think about is forcing you down on your hands and knees so I can mount you and stake my claim like an animal.”
    Heat spiraled slow and heavy down her legs. Amy drew a deep, ragged breath and closed her eyes, imagining the weight and warmth of him covering her back. They’d made love that way before. Of course they had. He would pause, ease out, whisper for her to turn over. She always did so eagerly, relishing the freedom to rub back against him, loving the pinch as he clutched her hips to hold her in place. Before he could change his mind, she turned in his arms.
    Mac stopped her, his hold tightening. “Where are you going?”
    “I…to the floor?” The closet stood open, their images reflected in the long mirror hung from the back of the door.
    “Not there. You’re better than that.” Dark hair fell across Mac’s brow, hiding his eyes. His lips grazed the bend of her waist and he drew her backward, across his thighs and onto the bed. Instead of turning her onto her stomach, he rolled between her legs and leaned over her, his elbow on the mattress beside her shoulder. He closed his eyes, took a lock of her hair between his fingers. “I want to be the man you need.”
    The pain she caused—a need to heal it burned in her chest. “You are .”
    He shook his head and kissed her the upper curve of her breast. “Maybe on some levels, but not all. Not anymore.”
    “Mac…” The muscles in his back bunched beneath her hands. Hot and wet, his tongue claimed the skin between her breasts. Slid lower. She shoved her heels into the mattress, lifted her hips off the bed and rubbed her sex along the hard slope of his abdomen. “Mac. I want you. I need you.”
    “Good. That’s good,” he muttered. To himself, she realized when he lifted his head, eyes still closed, and pushed her knees high, folding her thighs back against her breasts. Without warning, he bit her stomach, a small, sharp pain that raised her nipples.
    Breathing hard, she clutched at his hair. “Mac?”
    “ Shhh .” His tongue again, drawing circles between her shins. Lower. The wet tip swirled between her labia, probed the hood of her clit, swept long and hard down one side of her sex and up the other. She curled her toes against his shoulders and pitched her hips, straining to draw his tongue inside. Mac evaded her. He held her ankles and pushed them wide, ruining her leverage. And then he licked deeper, lower, the flat of his tongue soft and velvety between her cheeks.
    “Oh, God,” she moaned. Splaying her fingers over the back of his head, she tried to force him back to her.
    He shook his head, denying her efforts. “Let go. Hold your knees for me, baby.”
    Reluctant to break contact with him, she disentangled her fingers and clasped her knees. Thick fingers rewarded her instantly, slipping into her heat, stretching and curling to find the knot hidden inside. Amy sucked a hard breath, suddenly short on oxygen. The pads of his fingers found his target, dragging an animal groan from her throat.
    “Oh, please,” she whispered, hugging her knees tight to her chest, rolling her hips toward him.
    Mac flicked his tongue through her cream and hummed a masculine, approving sound. “Please what? Want that again?” he asked, thrusting shallowly, drawing back.
    “Yes.” Her sheath clenched, muscles contracting of their own accord, trying and failing to drag his fingers deeper. She tightened her stomach until the muscles ached, trying to impale herself . Mac held back.
    “Yes, what?” Shallow, stretching, he worked a third finger just past her rim.
    “You’re teasing me.” She craned her neck, trying to see him between her legs. He met her eyes, his lips sticky and wet from her arousal. “Mac, please.”
    “I’m not psychic, Amy. Please