No way in hell could he let her know it though. He might want to slide into her, watch her eyes glaze over with desire, and make long, slow love to her while she screamed his name, her fingertips scratching his back, her arms holding him tight. But he wouldn’t do it. Couldn’t. Not when he knew the cost of that kind of trust.
He eyed the tie on the bed, knowing what he intended to do and determined that she’d enjoy every minute. And so would he.
* * *
From her position on the bed, Riley took in Ian’s oh-so-fine masculine form and let out a breathy sigh, not caring if her approval went to his head. He’d just given her the best orgasm of her life and her first with a guy who took his time to make sure she got what she needed before worrying about himself. That alone would make him a keeper, at least in her eyes, but she knew better than to put any stock in those kinds of hopes and dreams.
Great sex with Ian? That she wanted more of.
He stood at the side of the bed watching, eyes dilated with need. For her. He gripped his solid erection and slid his hand up and down, pumping himself from base to head, as if getting ready.
She swallowed hard, suddenly nervous but determined to hold her own with this man. “Are you going to stand there or are you coming back to me?” she asked.
A sexy grin tipped his talented mouth. “Oh, I’m coming back to you all right.” He pounced, his lean, hard body like a predator as he lay over her.
His chest hair brushed her sensitive ni**les, his rock-hard abs pressed enticingly against her softer belly, and that massive erection teased her sex. A band of desire wound through her all over again despite having just come hard.
She knew better than to expect another orgasm and was beyond thrilled with the one she’d just had. Even so, at the idea of having him inside her, filling her, thrusting deep, she raised her hips in silent invitation.
He braced his hands on either side of her head and stared, a heated look in his gray eyes.
“You asked me if you tasted good, remember?” he said, breaking the sexually charged, silent spell that had woven between them.
She managed a nod.
“I want you to see for yourself.”
Her eyes opened wide at the same time he kissed her, gliding his tongue into her mouth and twining with hers. He took his time, turning the kiss into a sensual experience, mimicking the thrust and retreat she was dying to experience with him thick and hard inside her body. He tasted like Ian, dark and delicious, with a hint of herself mixed in. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced, and she tangled her tongue with his, inhaling the unique flavor.
Desire pulsed everywhere, and she wrapped her legs around his, needing to feel him. Suddenly he sat up, his groin flush with hers, and she moaned. He grasped one of her hands then the other. Before she knew what he planned, he’d shackled her wrists to the headboard with his tie.
“Ian?”
He stared down at her as if she were a meal he intended to devour.
She tugged but he’d managed to truss her up tightly. “Ian?” she asked again. Her voice quivered along with every nerve in her body.
Nobody had ever tied her up before. Nobody had suggested it.
“Relax.” He spoke in an easy voice. “Give over,” he said, reminding her of his earlier words.
She tried to swallow, but her mouth had grown dry. She ought to be afraid, but instead, the arousal she’d experienced when he’d instructed her to keep her hands flat against the wall returned full force. Dampness and a distinct pulsing began between her thighs.
She liked being bound? She wrinkled her nose, trying to understand her body’s reaction.
“It’s called submission,” he said as if reading her mind. “You like being under my control.”
“I do not.”
His eyes narrowed. “Your body doesn’t lie, sweetness.” He slid his finger between moist folds, and her inner walls clenched, trying to capture his finger, bring him higher, harder, deeper.
He grinned.
She moaned at the emptiness she needed him to fill.
“Now that we understand each other…” He began to glide his body over hers, his thick length deliberately teasing her sensitive clit.
She shuddered and instinctively tried to reach out and hold him, to touch his massive shoulders and clutch at him while she rose to meet him. She hit immediate resistance, the knots he’d tied preventing her from moving, which, again, she found oddly arousing.
No, she thought, but bit back the words. He wanted this. She would try. Because she wanted to understand his need to control.
But she couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t think about anything except the slick movement of his shaft against her clit, up and down, back and forth, harder and harder, until her hips began to rotate in time to the glide of his c**k over her sex. His rhythm combined with the intense pressure, and a familiar need began to build deep inside.
She whimpered, needing more than the circular thrust of his hips and the hard press of his erection against her.
She needed him inside her now. “Ian, please.” Her hips soared upward, but she was still empty.
“That’s it, sweetness, give over,” he said in a deep, compelling voice that oozed sex. “Feel my hard c**k against your sweet pu**y. Let yourself come for me.”
The telltale tremors were just out of reach but so close, and she trembled, her pelvis thrusting upward, seeking relief. He rocked his hips against hers, once, twice, the movement utter perfection, and the crescendo hit, the tremors wracking her body. She screamed—the orgasm was just so intense and almost perfect but not quite, because he wasn’t inside her. She needed him there—
Just like that, he was gone.
“No!” She squirmed helplessly on the bed, fighting the bindings, angry at him for playing with her, when she heard the crinkling of a wrapper and closed her eyes in blessed relief.
“Easy.” He stroked her cheek, and she turned into his touch, needing relief in whatever form he offered it.
She forced her eyes open, and he loomed over her. “Good girl,” he said, his gaze dark and approving. “Eyes on me. I want you to know who is giving you pleasure.”
“I’m pretty sure I know,” she assured him, barely recognizing her raspy voice.
He grinned and tweaked her nipple. She arched into him once more.
“Next time you come, you do it with me inside you,” he told her, his gaze never leaving hers as he positioned himself at her entrance and thrust home.
He filled her completely, and flashes of light danced in front of her eyes followed by the prickle of unexpected tears. Sex had never undone her like this before, and it scared her. Her feelings scared her. He’d made her come so many times she’d lost the barriers and walls she normally kept in place. That and he was big, and it had been so long since she’d been with a man, the unexpected sting took her by surprise. And that was the only part of the story she planned to tell herself—and him.