Wild Cat (25 page)

She lay staring up at the ceiling, her breathing ragged and labored as she tried to draw air into her burning lungs. Her body felt as if it was floating. Her mind was somewhere else. She turned her head slowly to look at Elijah. His features, always tough, always closed down, were an open book.

Her heart somersaulted. Her stomach did the same. She had almost escaped, and if she had, she would never have seen that look. Soft. Loving. So beautiful. All for her. Instinctively she knew no one other than their child would ever get that look. He would reserve it for her and any children they had.

She managed to roll over, keeping one hand on his belly to prevent him from moving. She crawled down his body. So strong. All those roped muscles, all that hot, hard skin. Hers.

“Baby,” he breathed softly. “What are you doing?”

“Hush,” she ordered. She could find her bossy when she needed it. “I'm seeing to my man, taking care of him.”

She loved taking care of him. No one else had ever done it. He had never had care. Or loving. She was going to give it to him. Spoil him like no other man had ever been spoiled. Siena had no idea what drove her, but she
needed
to take care of him. Clean him. Curl up beside him, into him, so he knew she was there—that she'd always be there—for him. It was important he understood what he had—what they had—in their world.

His hands immediately went to her hair, stroking caresses, sifting through the silky strands as he waited to see what she would do. She liked that too. That as bossy and controlling as he could be, he let her do what she wanted, what obviously was important to her.

She kissed his belly, using the pads of her fingers, taking her time as if memorizing his body. She kissed her way along the path of his hip bones and then began to lap at him gently, almost reverently, her mouth and tongue bathing him, cleaning their combined scents from his body. Her gaze went to his face as she pressed kisses along his thighs and lapped with her tongue.

Elijah closed his eyes, his face that of a contented man—or leopard. She loved that she put that look there. Warm. Moist. She bathed him with love. She hadn't told him, but she tried to show him. Using a velvet rasp. Sucking and lapping as she cleaned him, paying attention to details, his shaft, the underside of the crown, his heavy sac, the front of his thighs. She took her time. Was thorough. Was loving. Wanting him to go to sleep knowing he mattered. And feeling loved.

She crawled back up his body and his arm tightened around her, locking her to him. When she tilted her head to look at him, his eyes were open, moving over her face in the way of a leopard. All silver. Molten. Possessive. Soft with love. Her stomach fluttered and then did a slow roll.

“You shatter me, baby.
Shatter
me. I don't know what I ever did to deserve you, Siena, but you can't do this, give me this beauty and ever walk away from me.”

“Does it feel like I want to walk away, Elijah?” She had thought she was the one without confidence. The one who would always wonder if she was good enough and if he really wanted her, but she realized he felt that way. He didn't think he was good enough for her.

He took her mouth. Hard. Aggressive. She gave him their combined taste, and he stripped it from her, holding her to him, his fist bunched tight in her hair.

“So fucking beautiful, Siena,” he whispered against her throat.

He moved then, sliding down in the bed, onto his side, turning her toward him on her side, front to front. One thigh slid between hers.

He locked his arm around her waist and pulled her tight against him. “I've wanted to do this since the first time I saw you sleeping, Siena,” he said. “You have beautiful breasts. I love to look at them. To know they're mine.” His tongue licked at her nipple, and deep inside her sex, her body convulsed again. “I want to go to sleep like this. You in my mouth.”

The idea of it sent heat spiraling through her bloodstream again. There was no way for her body to settle, not when he talked like that. One hand cupped the underside of her breasts, and then began to move down her body until his palm found her softening belly.

“My baby is right here. Growing inside you,
mi amorcito
. Do you know what that does for a man like me? To know that I have a family? Want to put a ring on your finger, baby, give you my name, but we have to sort through a lot of shit first.” His hand slid farther until it came to rest on her mound.

His mouth stayed at her breast so she could feel the heat from his breath. “I want you sleeping with me inside you. My baby. My seed. My mouth on your breast. My fingers inside you.”

“I'm not certain I can go to sleep that way, honey,” she said honestly, “but if you want that, I'll try.”

His mouth nuzzled her breast as his fingers sought her entrance. Two slipped inside of her. Instantly her tight channel clamped down, holding him to her. Her entire body reacted to that intimate closeness. Every cell.

“Tonight I want to fall asleep inside in you,” he whispered.

She reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair. “Go to sleep, Elijah,” she whispered, already drifting. Exhausted. Happy.

E
LIJAH
woke, his leopard snarling. Someone was close. In the hall. He listened and knew by the padding of the feet that one of the men was patrolling close. He'd asked for that, worried that Paolo might find a way inside.

Siena was close. Naked. Her body soft. Lush. His. Sound asleep, she was just as beautiful as when she was awake. He studied her face. She looked like a Madonna, the long sweep of her lashes dark against her pale skin. She took his breath away when he looked at her like this.

He especially loved her face. The oval shape of it, her high cheekbones, her lush, kissable mouth. Inviting. She looked sexy when she wrapped her luscious lips around his cock. So sexy. Her large exotic eyes looking up at him and her hair falling in long waves all around her, brushing his skin. She was beyond any fantasy he'd ever had of her, and what she'd done afterward . . .

Her mouth and tongue on him. The care she'd taken. He
hadn't asked, nor would he have ever asked for such a thing, but she'd made him feel as if she worshiped him. As if he was the greatest thing in her world and she took her time caring for him. She hadn't rushed it, lapping at him with her velvet soft tongue. Little kisses up and down his shaft, on the insides of his thighs.

He closed his eyes, his body stirring with the memory. So beautiful. So shocking. Completely unexpected. The fact that she would treat him like that, initiate it and
enjoy
it, left him shattered inside. She would forever be inside of him. Every preconceived notion he had about the intimacy between a man and woman was gone. She'd made him feel like a good man. A man worthy of an incredible woman.

Her body was close. He wrapped himself in the faint wild, exotic scent that was uniquely hers. Her body was as lush as her mouth—full, soft curves—a body a man could get lost in—would want to get lost in. He leaned down and pressed a kiss into her belly, right where his child was growing in her. A small miracle. Siena was the real miracle. She seemed to be able to accept him as he was. She hadn't even told him to watch his language. She just . . .
loved
him. She hadn't said it. She hadn't used those words, but he felt it in every stroke of her tongue. As if that wasn't enough, she'd given him more. She'd let him drift off to sleep, his mouth on her, his fingers in her.

A leopard chuffed just outside the door, and he stiffened. He was needed. He knew the morning was gone, along with most of the afternoon. He wanted to be alone with Siena, without the security team. Without the threats to her life. To his. He shook his head as he slowly, with great reluctance, pulled his thigh from between hers. He probably wouldn't know what to do with normal. Without knowing every second of his existence, someone was plotting against him. That was normal, but he didn't want that for Siena or his children.

The moment he moved, her arm tightened around him
and she murmured a protest. His heart shifted. “Go back to sleep,
mi amorcito
,” he said softly.

Her long, feathery lashes lifted, and he found himself staring into the piercing emerald green of her eyes. “What's wrong, honey?”

He knew his expression hadn't changed. He didn't blink. He simply stared down at this woman who so easily had taken his heart and soul. Still, she knew. His heart fluttered when she called him honey. He loved the way the word rolled off her tongue and the soft look in her eyes when she said it.

“Nothing for you to worry about, baby,” he said, and ran his finger over her nipple, watching it form a hard peak. Distracting her.

She shivered, drew in a breath, but sat up, shoving at the long hair neither of them had braided before they'd fallen asleep. “Tell me, Elijah.”

“I said not to worry about it,” he repeated. This time he used his rough, leopard voice, the one that no one defied.

She lifted her chin at him.
Lifted her chin.
The little defiant chin that made his cock harder than a rock and made his leopard snarl and leap for the surface.

He shook his head, eyes glittering, more cat than human. The leopard roared with savage, brutish need to dominate. “Back the fuck off, Siena. This shit isn't touching you any more than it already has. This is my mess.
Mine.
Drake's. Your grandfather's. You have no business being caught in the middle of it, and if it's the last thing I do, I'm making sure you're out of it.”

Her mouth opened and then closed with a snap as her green eyes darkened from emerald to a dangerous forest. Her face flushed. “Did you just tell me to back the f-word off?”

She sounded incredulous. Pissed. Adorable. His body, already painfully hard, began to burn. Heat rushed through his veins. Little jackhammers began tripping in his head. He tried to breathe away the need.

“The f-word? Baby.” There was no stopping his grin. No way. He wanted to lean down and kiss her mouth.

“Don't you
dare
laugh at me, Elijah,” she snapped. “For your information, this
shit
is
my
shit. I brought it with me. It was never yours. So I have every right to know what's going on and help figure out what to do about it.” She leaned closer, tilting her head to his. “Do you get me?”

That lean. That head tilt. She was fucking finished and she didn't even know it. “Yeah, babe, I get you, but you'd better fucking get me.” He framed her face with both hands, and his cock jerked hard against his stomach. His body moved aggressively into hers. “My woman doesn't have shit touch her, hers or mine. I'd give you the world, walk on water for you, give you whatever the hell you think you want, but not this. This
shit
doesn't touch you again.”

He slammed his mouth down on hers, using his weight to drive her back to the mattress. Her body was soft, all lush curves, and he ran one hand over them, stopping to tug at her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and finger hard. She gasped into his mouth, arching her back.

“Open your legs,” he instructed against her mouth. Kissing her. Devouring her. Claiming her.

“Elijah.” She put one hand on his chest, trying to push at him.

He caught both wrists in one of his hands and slammed them above her head, holding them pinned there while the other continued to travel over her body. “Right fucking now, Siena. Spread your legs for me.”

His mouth was back on hers, capturing her shocked protest. Taking the taste of her into him, that sweet honey she never withheld from him, not even now when she was finding him bossy and annoying. She spread her legs. He rewarded her with a nip on her chin and a bite on her neck that turned into a nice strawberry.

“Wider, baby, wrap your legs around mine.” He bit at the swell of her breast. Left another strawberry, loving to see his marks on her.

She complied, hooking her legs around his hips.

“You wet for me?” He knew she was. He knew she liked his bossy. More, she loved his kisses. His rough. His sweet. His woman liked it all. “You ready, baby? Because I'm burning up.”

“Let go of my hands. I want to touch you.” Her hips bucked under his.

“No.” He left a string of strawberries across her breasts and then suckled. Strong. Used the flat of his tongue. Her breasts were sensitive, and her entire body bucked. Her breath came in ragged gasps. She tried to free her hands, but he kept her pinned. “You didn't earn that, baby. You argued with me first thing.”

She went still, fury gathering in her eyes. He loved riling her. Loved that beauty, and she was easy to rile. Passionate. She might say he scared her, but she had no hesitation going up against him. Even as she glared at him, her hips pushed against his.

“I didn't
earn
that?”

She hissed it, her leopard just as close as his. He guided his cock to her hot entrance, to the paradise he knew was there. She was dripping. Slick. So scorching hot there was no way he was waiting. And he didn't. He slammed home. Hard. Brutal. The way he needed. The way she needed.

Her sheath clamped down on his cock, strangling him in slick, living silk, a brutal, beautiful fist that worked him as he hammered in and out of her. Her hips rose to meet his every thrust, her body jolting, breasts thrust up and moving with every deep stroke. Her face was a mask of sheer beauty, sensual passion in every line, eyes dark with lust and a little dazed, just the way he loved to see, as if he took her mind and filled it with him.

“More, honey. I need harder,” she whispered.

“Earns you back your hands, baby,” he managed to bite out between his teeth. He let go of her wrists, wrapped his arms under her knees and yanked her bottom up, nearly folding her in half, giving himself more leverage.

Instantly her hands went to his buttocks, fingers digging deep. He felt the sharp nails sinking into him, urging him to take her harder. Yeah. She liked his bossy. She liked his protection. She liked her man in charge. She might not know it, but she definitely responded to his commands.

He lost himself in her, burying himself deep in that haven of sheer bliss. He let her sweep him into another place where he wasn't covered in dirt and shit. Where he was clean and his woman worshiped him. Where he could live free and feel like a man instead of a fucking killer with blood on his hands. She gave him that.

She held him to her, wrapped him up, he felt that gift even when she was consuming him, the fire raging hotter than it ever had. He could hear the little noises she made in her throat. Frantic. Sobbing his name. Music. Sweet. Sexy. He stared down into her face even as he increased the brutal thrusts. Savage now. He couldn't get enough of her. Couldn't bury himself deep enough. Rocking both of them.

He felt her building. Coiling. Her sheath gripped hard. Clamped down. “Wait,” he hissed. “You wait for me.”

“I can't, honey,” she gasped.

“Damn it, fucking wait,” he growled, increasing the pace, slamming harder. Giving himself up to her. Burning from the inside out.

Her fingers dug deep, but she held on for him. Fought back the tsunami as it built and built. He felt it then, coming at both of them, a tidal wave, throwing them both high, consuming them, burning him clean, so clean he didn't recognize himself. She did that to him, turned him inside out until he was in pieces scattered at her feet.

He buried his face in her neck, his teeth in her skin. His heart pounding as the earth moved all around him, shaking him up. Deep inside, where no one could see, he let fear sweep through him. He had lost everything good in his life practically before his life had even started. Now there was Siena. Now
there was a priceless gift, a treasure so unexpected and beautiful, he knew if she were taken from him he wouldn't survive intact.

Her arms went around him, hands sliding down the sheen of sweat on his back. He allowed her legs to drop to the mattress, the action sending ripples of aftershock through both of them. He closed his eyes and breathed in their combined scents, feeling sated. He knew it wouldn't last long, but with her scent surrounding him and her soft body crushed beneath his, his cock softening inside her heat, he felt content.

“Honey, roll over,” she whispered softly. “You're squashing me.”

He was. He knew it. He had given her his weight, but he needed to. He needed to feel her there beneath him—his. He licked at the bite mark on her neck and then complied, rolling them both so she was sprawled on top of him. She lifted her head, her green eyes moving over his face. Seeing too much. He couldn't give her any more or he'd be so lost in her he'd never find his way out. He had a job to do, one that required the bastard. The killer. Not the man he saw in her eyes.

He moved his hips, allowing himself to slide from the haven of her body as he rolled off of her. “Gotta go, baby. Drake's waiting.”

She pinned him with her green eyes. Cat eyes. Focused. Glittering. “You can stay right there until I'm done, Elijah.” She sounded every bit as bossy as he did, although on her it was rather adorable. She moved down his body, keeping a hand on his belly, fingers splayed wide. “You are such an ass sometimes.” She hissed the accusation, bending her head to his hips, licking up the indentation along his bone. “You had your fun and you aren't moving until I say so. Got that?”

He sank his hands into that thick sweep of hair meaning to pull her head up, to keep her from undoing him more, but he couldn't actually take that away from her. Or take it away from him. He just lay there, both hands sifting through the mass of
her hair, all that silk. It moved over his skin as she began to clean him. Using her mouth. That warm, soft mouth, that velvet rasp of a tongue.

“
Dios, mi amorcito
, I got it.” She was killing him. Bringing him beauty when his entire life had been a fucking nightmare.

Emotion welled up, threatening to choke him. He felt the burn behind his eyes and he nearly pulled her off of him, his body going rigid. She was stripping him bare. Removing, layer by layer, the armor he'd spent a lifetime growing around his heart and soul. She saw him. Deep where he hid. Where that small, tiny piece of humanity he guarded was cowering. Protected. She had that. She saw that. Anyone else he would have killed. But Siena . . . He belonged to her. Heart and soul. That last piece of him was in her hands. He'd given that to her without knowing it, and it was far too late to take it back.