Free Ridge by Em Petrova Page B

fullest ass he’d had the pleasure of touching, she tossed a coy look over her shoulder.
    Oh yeah, he was going to spank her.
    “Stretch out on your back.”
    She did, staring up at him with those beautiful eyes. She raised her arms overhead, and he jerked in surprise. He’d never spotted that tattoo before. Just above her bra line on her ribs.
    “That must have hurt like hell to get ink there.”
    “It did.”
    The detailed crescent moon with a sun in the center curve drew him in. “What’s the meaning behind it?”
    She stared up at him. “It represents opposites, things that will never touch.”
    He had to put his lips on it—along with every other part he’d been burning for.
    “Should I take off my bra?”
    He shook his head. “That’s my job, if I choose to.”
    “You don’t want me naked?” A shiver ran through her voice, spiking his need. He spent a long heartbeat battling his way back from the edge of control.
    “Not yet. My job is to give you pleasure, but you have to trust that I know when and how to give it.”
    Her pupils dilated. She let her thighs fall apart, giving him an enticing view of her pussy lips encased in red satin. Set in the center of her folds he knew the contours of her clit, knew how it had swelled under his fingertip.
    “Ridge, I’m burning up for you. Please.”
    “When I say, honey.” He removed his boots, aware of her gaze on him. Then he took off his belt, letting it zip through the loops. Would she accept the leather between her teeth? On her upraised ass?
    God, he loved the build-up, the burn.
    She wiggled restlessly.
    “Keep your legs spread. Wider.”
    She did his bidding, which gave him a rush unlike anything he’d felt in…well ever. The times he’d played at control and submission before, he hadn’t been attached to those women. They were unknowns to him, and he’d liked it that way. But Kashley was different, and having command of the wayward spitfire gave him a heady feeling.
    Her thigh muscles leaped, and her nipples distended her bra. “I’m going to suck your tits first, through the fabric of your bra until you’re crazed. Then I’m going to do the same to your clit.”
    “Ridge…please.”
    He took off his shirt and twisted it in his hands to create a rope. “Do I need to tie your hands or will you do everything I say?”
    “Everything. Just…please.”
    Fuck, he loved this side of her, a begging, needy wench ripe for his taking. His cock extended another fraction. And after he had her, and satisfied himself, he’d stroke her and soothe her and make sure she was okay.
    He intended to mind-fuck her a little, but next time he’d dive deeper.
    When did there become a next time?
    He stepped up to the bed, his knees hitting the mattress. As he covered her with his body, arms braced on each side of her, she gave an uncontrolled moan. Exactly what he’d wanted—he’d deprived her of his touch for only a few minutes, yet she was primed and wild for it.
    He did a pushup over her and kissed her. Tenderly at first and increasing the pressure of his tongue and lips, claiming her every whimper. She moved to put her arms around him, and he pulled free to say, “Arms overhead.”
    She quivered and nodded, her lips kiss-swollen and her eyes glazed with passion. Fucking hell, she was everything he needed at this minute. He kissed her again as he cupped one breast, starting their foreplay from their drive all over again. Except, he made good on his promise to suck her through her bra.
    She arched into his tongue as he laved it around and around the straining bud. Holding her gaze, he clamped his teeth on it. “What if I put nipple clamps on them? Would you like that?”
    “Have some…in my bag,” she panted.
    He rumbled a laugh at her joke. She sucked in a sharp breath as he bit into her nipple. Harder, harder still, and holding it to show her just what those nipple clamps would feel like.
    She thrashed on the bed but didn’t make a sound until he