Cat's Lair (34 page)

He grinned at her, getting that she was teasing him. “I like that you’re not afraid to spar a little with me, baby,” he said. “Everyone else is terrified to give me a hard time or argue with me. You’re getting there.”

“I wouldn’t want you to think you’re going to get your way in all things,” she said. That wasn’t entirely true. She wanted to make him happy. She didn’t know why it was important to her, but she wanted to be the one that kept the soft look on his face.

His grin widened. “I’ll get my way, Kitten. You can count on that. But I’ll make certain you’re enjoying yourself when I do.”

She blushed. The heat inside her body seemed to grow until she thought her skin might be glowing. Or maybe she was glowing because he’d told her he loved her.

Eli laughed softly and stood up with her in his arms. She felt his muscles ripple but the move was fluid and effortless. He walked back inside without even breathing hard, as if her weight was nothing whatsoever to him. He carried her through the house, not turning on any lights, but then he rarely did at night. He had excellent night vision and she did as well.

Her heart began to pound when they entered the bedroom. There was something very purposeful in the way he walked. He tossed her onto the mattress, onto her back. She landed right in the middle, sprawled out. He stood over her, tall and broad-shouldered, his features a mask of sensuality. He took her breath away. She knew that expression. His eyes had gone to liquid gold, the gold spreading until it nearly covered the surface of his eyes.

“Put your hands above your head, baby,” he instructed. “Grip the headboard for me.” His voice had gone rough. Husky. Low. Commanding.

Instantly, heat flooded her body. Just his voice. That was all it took. Adding in his eyes and the way his body came alive, she was lost. She slowly complied, not taking her gaze from his face. She loved the way he looked, the implacable single-minded focus in his expression, the heat and lust building in his eyes. She recognized the third emotion – love – mixed with the hunger there. Her hands gripped the thick dowels above her head. She had to stretch her arms out all the way to comply.

“That’s my woman. I love how you look right now. Open your legs wide for me. Are you already wet? Do you know what I need right now?”

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. Her heart began to pound. She felt the answering pulse in her hot, wet channel. “I’m already wet,” she admitted.

He knelt between her legs and, still holding her gaze, slipped a finger into her. Instantly her greedy body grasped at him and tried to pull him deeper.

“I like that you get wet for me. So slick and hot. All that honey. I dream about the way you taste. Sometimes it wakes me up. I want to let you sleep. You’re all curled up beside me like a sleepy kitten, and I hate to disturb you, but I can’t go back to sleep thinking about devouring you. Sometimes I just want to eat you up, baby. Never stop. See how much honey I can harvest before you go up in flames.”

Her nipples beaded. A small tremor sent a spasm through her channel. He pushed another finger into her, scissored them apart to stretch her. He did it casually, still watching her face, holding her gaze captive with his. A small burn as he stretched her sent heat spiraling through her sheath, rocking her. He was barely touching her and she thought he might make her explode.

Her hips undulated, pressed into his hand so that she tried to ride his fingers. He withdrew them immediately. “Lie still for me, baby. I’m going to eat you. Do to you just what I’ve wanted to do every night we’ve been in bed together.”

His eyes burned her, they were so hot as they moved over her body. His face was a study in raw, masculine beauty. She loved his face, especially when he looked at her with such command, such stark sensuality. He was the epitome of sexy to her. His rough tone coupled with his explicit intent sent more honey and spice spilling from her body in anticipation. She tugged her lower lip between her teeth in an effort to keep her hips still for him, wanting his fingers back. Aching for his mouth.

“When I wake up needing my mouth on your breasts, between your legs, Kitten, do you know what I decided I was going to do about it from now on?”

She shook her head. She was trembling all over now. So hot. So needy, and he still hadn’t even really touched her.

“I’m going to do whatever the hell I want to do,” he said softly and gripped her hips in his hard hands.

The breath slammed out of her. She actually began to feel a little feverish. A little desperate for him. She wanted to plead with him to stop talking and get to it, but she knew that if she did, he’d make her wait longer, building that tension already coiling so tight in her body.

His hooded eyes moved over her then, his carved features stamped with possession. His hands followed his gaze, moving down from her shoulders to her breasts. She waited, holding her breath, needing him to suckle, to lavish attention, to tug and roll her nipples the way he did, but his palms just slipped over her curves and moved down her rib cage to her waist and then lower to her belly.

“I’d like to see that tattoo on you, baby,” he said. “On the small of your back, but right here, I’d like a little ring so I could put a chain around your belly and play with it when I make love to you.”

He was killing her. It took every ounce of self-control she had not to allow her legs to shift restlessly, or her hips to move. He was killing her with the soft brush of his fingers and his erotic images.

“Would you do that for me?”

“If you asked me to,” she admitted. Because she’d do anything for him to make him happy. If that was really something that mattered to him, then it mattered to her. She didn’t mind tattoos. In fact, she loved his. She’d never thought about piercings, but a small belly ring might be sexy.

“If I asked you to?” he repeated, his hands sliding lower to frame her mound and then slip lower still to sweep over her inner thighs. He frowned a little.

“I meant if I thought it mattered to you,” she hastened to explain. It was difficult to think straight when her body was on fire. “I’ve never considered either, and I really like tattoos. I hadn’t thought about a belly ring, but it might be nice.”

“You’d do it for me if it mattered to me?”

His eyes were back on hers and her stomach did a crazy flip. She’d said the right thing, she could see how pleased he was. Her answer mattered to him whether she did it or not. She loved that she’d put that look in his eyes.

“Of course. I like doing things for you,” she admitted.

His smile took her breath away. He stretched out on the bed, on his belly and put her legs over his shoulders. Her breath hitched again. He looked so sexy, his gaze focused now, this time on the junction between her legs. He looked hungry, like a predatory animal about to feast. The raw sensuality was carved deep into the lines of his face and there in his eyes.

Her body pulsed and throbbed and without any more encouragement than his focused stare, more hot spice slipped out. His hands stroked her thighs and her temperature rose until she felt as if the very blood in her veins had caught fire.

She closed her eyes when she felt his warm breath first. The smallest of things, yet her inner muscles reacted, pulsing with need. She felt as if time had stopped. She heard her heart beat. The clock ticking. The wind in the trees. He had to do something or she was going to die.

He made a single sound, low in his throat, like the snarl or growl of a leopard about to devour a meal it had caught. Her heart nearly exploded and she tightened her fists around the thick dowels to anchor herself.

His tongue slid through her hot, slick folds like a caress and her entire body jerked. A low cry escaped her throat before she could hold it back. His eyes jumped to her face, a golden, hot gaze that warned her not to move, not to disturb him, that he would go at his own pace.

Catarina forced her twisting body to still. To give him all the control. She realized in that moment he was already in control of her, but not so much of himself. He was truly one with his leopard, and he wanted his feast and was going to take it. The primal frenzy was on him and it only made her burn hotter for him.

Eli began licking her like a cat might lap a bowl of cream. His tongue rasped over and into her, sending her nearly spiraling out of control at the first touch. Electrical currents raced to her breasts like tiny bolts of lightning, making them sensitive and achy. Her stomach muscles coiled so tightly it hurt. She fought for air when her lungs burned, reminding her she had to breathe.

Eli’s arm held her pinned down, his wide shoulders ensuring she was wide open to him. He kept licking up the honey spilling out of her body, a relentless unhurried pace, ever the cat enjoying his meal. He didn’t change his rhythm, but she never knew where his tongue was going to swipe next. No matter how hard she tried, it was impossible to hold still. He kept the lower half of her body exactly where he wanted it, but her head thrashed wildly on the mattress and her knuckles turned white holding on for life to the headboard. Her muscles spasmed again, sending endless amounts of that hot spicy cream to his greedy mouth.

Her entire body nearly convulsed with pleasure. Strong, rippling waves started deep in her core and spread through her body, down her thighs and up her belly to her breasts. The moment the quake started, instead of backing off, Eli drew more spice out, catching the hot liquid on his tongue, pushing deep for more. His teeth raked her clit and she screamed, exploding a second time, right on the heels of the first.

Her body was so hot now, she couldn’t stand it. Even with his mouth on her, his tongue wicked, never stopping, forcing another orgasm, his teeth and fingers and mouth so greedy she couldn’t find a way to breathe, it still didn’t stop the fire that began to spread through her like a wildfire.

Catarina’s low, keening cry pierced through the chaos reigning in Eli’s mind. He was lost in her body, in the sweet taste of her, in his need to own what he knew was his. In his greed for the treasure that was all his. Catarina wanted to please him and he needed to take full advantage.

His gaze jumped to her face. There was stark fear, nearly amounting to terror. Desperation. Hunger. Her eyes glowed, and he realized her body was scorching hot. Not just her feminine channel but her skin. All of her. His leopard shifted inside him, leapt toward the surface, snarling, raking with claws, roaring for domination. The animal went nearly insane with need, clawing for freedom, desperate and wild.

Catarina’s eyes glowed at him, going from a brilliant cobalt to a deep violet. Her skin was nearly translucent, burning like the exotic cat’s eyes. She had never looked so alluring or passionate. Her gaze devoured him, hot and hungry, her need as primal as his own. His blood surged hotly, flowing like lava in his veins. His body had already been on fire, but now, drinking in the pheromones her body was throwing off and seeing a look of such stark hunger on her face, there was no going back. No stopping.

“Eli.” Catarina sounded frightened. “I’m burning up. Seriously burning up and I need you inside me, right now.” Desperation edged her voice.

She couldn’t stop moving, squirming, rubbing her thighs together. One hand drifted down past her belly to the junction between her legs. He could see the tiny beads of honey still dampening her mound and creaming her thighs. She curled her fingers into her, working them with soft little pants. Her other hand went to her left breast, finger and thumb tugging at her nipple. She threw back her head, a moan escaping.

Eli thought he might explode just watching her. He still tasted her in his mouth. He breathed her scent into his lungs, the hot, needy siren’s call of honeysuckle and spice. She was wild, writhing on the bed, pleading with him, and he’d never seen anything more beautiful.

He stood up abruptly and caught at her wrist, the hand at her breast. He yanked her up, right off the bed and his mouth came down on hers. Hard. Brutal. Savagely. He heard his own feral growl as he took her mouth, sharing the taste with her, kissing her over and over.

He was savage, a wildfire out of control. He devoured her mouth. Fed on her. Gave her no chance to breathe or think. He poured himself into her, every bit of himself, giving her everything he was or would ever be. His hands were rough sliding over her skin, claiming her, fingers biting deep.

The little desperate noises she made, a keening coming from her throat nearly drove him mad. He could feel her nipples, hard and erect, pressed tight against his chest. With her every ragged breath, her breasts rose, dragging the stiff pinpoints of sensitivity against his muscles.

He pushed her against the wall, his hands coming up to capture the soft weight of her breasts, bringing them up as he bent his head to draw her left breast deep into his mouth. He used his fingers ruthlessly, tugging and rolling her right nipple, so that electric shocks spread from his fingers straight to her clit.

She caught at his head, arching her back like a cat, holding him to her while her cries filled the air. She moaned and writhed, cradling his head to her while he fed on her breasts. He used the edge of his teeth to scrape her nipples and nip the soft sweet curves. He used his tongue ruthlessly, flat and broad and then long, slow licks easing every ache before suckling strong enough to elicit gasps and cries.

She was ultrasensitive to the touch of his hands and mouth, her skin burning against his. She radiated heat and he caught fire. One leg wound around his hip and she pressed her sex against his thigh and ground down, frantic for relief. Her hips bucked against him, a sob choked her throat as she writhed in his arms. It was the hottest, sexiest thing he’d ever witnessed. She was like a living flame, unable to contain, unable to put out the burning heat.

Catarina was on fire. Every cell was inflamed and deep inside, she burned so hot she thought she might die. Her body didn’t feel as if it belonged to her at all. Every inch of her was so sensitive she hurt. She was desperate for Eli’s body against hers, yet even that seemed to make her ache more. Her skin was just too tight. Her joints ached. Her hair was too heavy for her head and her skull felt as if it might explode.