I didn’t waver in the attention I was paying to his cock, but I did relax my thighs, so that I was sitting on his leg instead of perched above it, and I undulated my body in time with my ministrations to his cock, teasing my clit with each delicious motion and stoking the fire that was already raging inside me.

“Jesus, baby,” he said, as I licked his shaft all the way down to where I cupped his balls and then back up to the tip. His body was rigid and tight, as if readying for the explosion that I intended to give him.

I opened my mouth and drew him in. Just the tip at first, because I wanted to make him desperate. Hell, I wanted to make him beg. Then I went deeper, relishing the way his body tightened and letting his groans of pleasure wash over me. I’ve never felt particularly skilled where giving head is concerned, but right then I felt powerful. Hell, I felt perfect.

“Lina,” he groaned. “Shit, Lina, you feel fucking amazing.”

He was so damn close—but I had other plans for that gorgeous cock, and I slowly withdrew my mouth, then eased my body up. Now, I did more than just straddle a thigh. Instead, I straddled his hips, and in slow, careful moves designed to drive us both crazy, I let the tip of his cock stroke my slick cunt.

I was so damn ready, and this was torturing me as much as it was him. But as I moved—as I denied myself the pleasure of slamming my body down hard and impaling myself on him, of having him fill me in one glorious, deep thrust—I understood how he had survived so far without actually fucking me. Because this anticipation was just as exciting as the act itself, and if I were a stronger person I could have teased him forever, and with the greatest of pleasure.

But I wasn’t that strong.

What had Cole called it? Evan’s capacity for self-deprivation? Well, I didn’t have it. I wanted him. Needed him. Had to have him right then, because my senses were on overload and the only thing that could keep me from imploding was the feel of this man inside me.

Fuck it. I couldn’t wait another second, and I thrust downward, crying out as my body stretched wide to accommodate him. I rose up, then slammed down again, leaning back so I could hold on to his legs even as he reached up and grasped my hips, forcing me to go deeper, harder, faster.

He was close. I could tell by the way that tension was building in his body as we moved together, and I arched back, moaning with pleasure at the way he filled me—and then squealing in surprise and delight as he grabbed me tight and rolled us over, tumbling me onto my back with our bodies still joined.

“Evan!”

His kiss was hard and demanding and very effectively shut me up. “You didn’t wait for me to get a condom.”

“I’m on the pill,” I said. “And I assumed you were clean.”

“I am,” he said.

“So that’s why you stopped?”

He laughed. “Baby, I’m still inside you. Is that stopping?”

“No, but—”

He pressed his finger over my lips. “I seem to recall mentioning to you that I like being in control.”

“Oh. Right. You might have said that,” I admitted, squirming beneath him. “I think you liked letting me take over for a while, too.”

“Careful. That’s the kind of thing a woman can get punished for.”

“Is that so?” I asked playfully.

“Hell, yes,” he said, returning my smile with one of his own, and then staying perfectly still.

He was still hard inside me, and yet he wasn’t moving. I groaned in protest and tried to shift my hips in silent demand. But I couldn’t do much; he’d trapped me good and tight.

I was beginning to understand what he meant by “punishment.”

He grinned knowingly. “Frustrated, Lina?”

“Even if I were, I wouldn’t admit it.”

He laughed outright, and the sound delighted me. “How do you do that?” I asked.

“How do I do this?” he asked, moving slowly inside me.

“Oh, thank god. Finally,” I said, arching up to silently urge him to thrust deeper. “But what I meant was, how do you send this melange of emotions coursing through me?” I had to concentrate on getting the words out. “You take me to the edge, you make me feel like I’m the manifestation of sensual pleasure. And then you turn it on its head and make me laugh out loud.” I paused for just a heartbeat. “I don’t remember ever having so much fun in bed.”

He slid up my body and kissed me gently. “Me either. Of course,” he added, his tone sharpening a bit as he traced his fingertip over my naked breasts. “As I believe we’ve already established, we’ve barely scratched the surface of what I can make you feel.” As he spoke, he rubbed his thumb and forefinger over my nipple, the friction making the nub even tighter. He squeezed his fingers tighter, intensifying the pleasure—and the pain.

“Oh, really?” I concentrated on his fingers, on that pinching sensation that hurt a little, but at the same time felt remarkably wow, as if everything I wanted to feel had been captured and held there for me to experience. I remembered his words in the alley—the way he’d wanted to pinch my nipples. To spank my ass.

I felt the muscles of my sex clench around him, already anticipating the new onslaught of sensations to come.

From the way he smiled at me, I could tell he’d felt my body’s response—and understood exactly what it meant.

“My Lina wants something,” he said.

I licked my lips and turned my head slightly so that I wasn’t looking at him dead-on. “I was just thinking about what you said. About how taking control was the kind of thing you might punish me for.”

“Were you? That’s an interesting direction for your thoughts. Would you like to elaborate? Maybe be more specific?”

I slanted my eyes at him. “You made me promises.”

“Did I? You may have to refresh my memory.”

He released my nipple, then trailed his finger down, lower and lower to where our bodies were joined. He moved inside me languidly, and as he did, he slipped his finger over my clit, making me bite down on my lower lip as my breath came in painful, wonderful jolts.

He took his finger away, stopped his thrusting, and looked down at me, his expression smug.

“Bastard,” I muttered.

“What do you want, Lina?”

“I want—I mean, I’ve never been—oh, fuck it. I want you to spank me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been naughty,” I murmured, because I was certain that’s what he expected me to say. “Because I need to be punished,” I added, turning my head away because I knew it was true.

“Good girl,” he said as he began to slowly move inside of me. I felt the pressure building and closed my eyes, wanting to get lost on the cresting waves. “No. Look at me.”

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes.

“It was a good answer, but it wasn’t the right one.” He kept up the motion, that delicious friction building with such slow intensity that it took all of my effort to focus on his words. “I don’t know what you think you’ve done, but it’s not important. Because it’s not about punishment, at least not with me. The control, the bondage, the spanking, even the pain—it’s all a road, Lina. A road that leads to pleasure. It’s acceleration before flight. The priming of the pump. The buildup to climax.”