Free TiedandTwisted by Emily Ryan-Davis

asking unspoken questions. He had no questions to ask, only answers to give. Or take. Whatever. She opened
for him, accepting his intent. Penetration, possession, stealing her breath—everything
David wanted, he conveyed in the hard, deep taking.
    His hands fell to her hips and jerked her forward against
the hard line of his cock. Something else he intended to give. Interested and
eager, she tore the hem of his shirt from his waistband and wedged her fingers
between them to unfasten his pants. He grasped the back of her thigh, opened
her legs and angled her against the door. Still hot and wet and strong against
her tongue.
    Jovanna hooked her calf behind his back and fumbled in his
rear pocket for his wallet. As soon as she touched foil, she dropped the
leather to the floor and tore her mouth from his.
    “Now,” she gasped, sucking gulps of air while she had the
chance.
    “Not now.” He ducked his head and found a bare patch of skin
where his t-shirt slid off her shoulder. His teeth scored her flesh, a hard,
deep bite that burned pleasure straight to the bone beneath, and plunged his
fingers into her pussy from behind. Not long enough. Almost immediately, he
withdrew and stroked a wet line between her bare cheeks.
    “Now,” he murmured, dark and intent at her ear, “I’m going
to turn you around and fuck your ass. I’m finished envying a dildo.”
    As quick as his promise, David spun her and flattened her
breasts against the door. She reflexively rose on tiptoe, pushed back toward
him, unashamed of the weakness he’d so quickly homed in on. Turning her head,
she rested her cheek against the cool panel and closed her eyes tight.
    “Hard,” she pleaded. “I like it hard.”
    He nipped her ear and shoved the t-shirt hem up around her
waist. “You like it to hurt.”
    “Yes,” she whispered, suddenly anxious. Many men would balk
at the idea, freak out and retreat with hot desire suddenly gone cold.
    David spread her cheeks. The slide of lubricated latex
between the globes, along the crease, proved him once more unlike other men.
Jovanna pressed her fingertips against the door and drew a deep breath,
released it when he aligned himself at her pucker. She deliberately tightened
her inner muscles, purposefully resisted his push.
    With a soft curse, he grasped her hips and bit her ear. “Do
you want me to force it?”
    She nodded, her cheek sliding along the wood. “Please.”
    His blunt fingernails dug into the tender flesh below her
pelvic bones. Jovanna spread her arms wide and grasped the raised surface of
the door frame. Bracing herself. Because he wouldn’t disappoint her.
    And he didn’t. With no more warning than the flex of his
fingers at her hips, he drove into her. Jovanna shrieked through the sudden
burn, the lance of pain that stabbed from those tiny nerve endings all the way
to her fingers and toes. Her pussy creamed even more wet with the
lightning-fast metabolism of pain into pleasure. Hot, mind-melting pleasure.
David didn’t let it fade.
    He shoved her hips forward off his cock, yanked her back
into another hard thrust. Her nipples jabbed painfully against the unyielding
surface of the door. Jovanna arched her back, writhing for the bite of
sensation.
    Behind her, he breathed a soft curse and pistoned forward.
Again. “Let me hear how much it hurts,” he muttered.
    She couldn’t have silenced herself if she tried. A high
whimper caught in her throat, preceding a yelp of surprise to answer his abrupt
withdraw and re-entry. David barred his forearm across her stomach and locked
her against his abs, digging deep with each short, stabbing thrust. His fingers
speared between her legs, into her pussy and out again, up to cruelly pinch her
clit. A jolt of shock spiked up her spine. He repeated the rough treatment,
twisting her distended flesh with ruthless determination. Whatever he wanted
out of her, she wanted to give it. Strained to give it.
    “ God ,” she moaned, one knee jammed against the