He was fairly certain she smiled before continuing to torment him. “Lena, I’m on the edge here, on the verge of giving you a little surprise if you continue.”

Pure enjoyment and satisfaction wreathed her face. “Nothing about you is little, Aiden.”

She palmed him and stroked the length of him. “Tell me again. You’ve never been inside a woman without a sheath?”

“Never.”

Up and down, her hand pumped him. “Do you ever think about what it might feel like?”

He knew how a woman felt around his fingers, but around his cock—

“I imagine it.”

“Are you ever tempted?”

With her, he’d been tempted from the first. “Yes.”

He hated how the word sounded like an entreaty, a begging.

She swung her leg over him, straddling his hips, rose up onto her knees. “It’s the only way I’ve thought about it, dreamed about it, imagined it. You with no barrier between us.”

He shook his head. “I won’t risk—”

“Just a taste, just for a minute.”

Taking hold of him, she positioned him at her opening. His body reacted instinctively, straining toward the heat of her tunnel. “You’ll have to leave me before I spill—”

“I know. But I’m in control now, and this is what I want. You inside me, slick skin against slick skin.”

His body was so tense with need, with the eroticism of her sultry voice, her come-hither eyes watching him that he barely felt his nod, such a small thing, giving her permission. Slowly, tormentingly, she slid down, enveloping him in the sweltering velvet. Down, down, down. Until he filled her to the hilt.

“Christ, you feel bloody good. Hot, wet, silky. And tight. So damn tight.” He’d felt it with the sheath, but without it, miraculously, she seemed even more snug.

“I love the sensation of you, with naught separating us.” She lifted up, slid back down.

His growl was that of a man in torment.

With her head resting back, she began undulating her body, riding him. Bound as he was, his movements were limited, but he pumped into her as much as he was able, matching his movements to hers. He yearned to dig his fingers into her hips, thrusting faster, deeper, with more urgency. “Untie me.”

“Not yet.” Her voice seemed to come from a far-off place where fantasy reigned.

She guided her hands over his chest, splaying her fingers over his lower ribs, bracing herself. Her tempo increased. Mewling whimpers escaped her lips. Her back bowed, her breasts pushed upward as her cry of release echoed around them.

Her climax came swift and hard, her muscles clenching his cock before throbbing around him. The sensations were sublime, more detailed than he’d ever experienced. They added to his own pleasure, his own torture as he fought to hold himself in check until she came back into herself.