Eli used his hands to spread the oil up and over the curves of her breasts, kneading it into her soft skin, rubbing it into her nipples. With every stroke of his hands, the oil heated, so that her skin tingled and then it began to send even more flames over her. The sensation seemed to sink into her pores, made its way into her body, traveling through her as the feeling increased.
He gripped his cock with his oiled hands, watching her eyes go wide. Sensual. She couldn't take her eyes off his hands and the glistening thick shaft as he fisted himself and slowly gripped and released until every part of him was coated with the heated, slick oil. He shifted his position, still straddling her.
"Open your mouth. Don't move your hands. Stay right like that."
She couldn't keep still. She was too far gone, the flush and need stark on her face. Her hips moved continuously and her soft little moans and pleas didn't stop, not for a moment. She was desperate for release. He was only adding to that need, to that hunger, with his erotic display. She wanted his cock inside her.
He pushed her breasts together, forming a soft tunnel, nestling his cock there, surrounded by her softness. He pushed forward with his hips while she tilted her head up, her mouth closing over the crown, drawing him into that hot, moist haven. He threw back his head for a moment, savoring the feeling of paradise. She made the most of the pause, desperate to have him so hungry for her he'd cooperate. He let her tongue him, suckle and then when he felt the tightness in his balls, he drew back and began to slide through the hot oil. Over and over. Letting himself find that edge of control. Feeding himself to her hot, eager mouth and then depriving her until she let go of the table with one hand.
Instantly he stopped. Drew back. Let her know with his eyes that everything would stop if she didn't obey him.
"Eli, please," she said softly. "I need you."
"That's right, baby. Me. And when I fucking tell you to do something, I want it done." Even as he growled it at her, he let himself feel that soft cradle, her hot mouth one more time. Who the hell could resist?
"You can't use sex against me," she wailed.
"Is that what I'm doing?" Abruptly he released her breasts and slid off of her, dragging her body to the end of the table again, angry all over again.
He felt his leopard surge toward the surface, as angry as he was, the need for dominancy overcoming good sense. The slide of fur shimmered for a moment so close he actually had to fight it back. When he flipped her over, dragging her hips over the edge so her sweet little ass was pushed toward him, he smacked her harder than he intended, her buttocks flushing a deep red immediately.
She tried to stand, gasping in shock, turning her head, but he lifted her hips and drove into her. She screamed, nearly convulsing with the pleasure. He held her pinned there, thrusting hard and fast, pistoning over the small bundle of supersensitive nerve endings, a relentless, brutal pace, forcing her body to accept his. The oil added to the burning and stretching along her sheath, he could tell by the way she moved, as if her delicate muscles were trying to retreat, but she was hungry for it, desperate enough to push back into him with every forward thrust of his body.
He gave in to his temper, to the male's temper, and with every third deep stroke of his cock he left a handprint on her pretty bottom. Between he soothed her with his palm, although she didn't deserve it. He wanted her to remember this moment, remember that he wasn't going to tolerate his woman putting herself in danger for any reason.
In the end, Eli wasn't certain if his method would work. With each fall of his hand, hot liquid bathed his cock and her mewling cries crescendoed.
Catarina felt perspiration gathering over her body. There wasn't a cell in her that wasn't on fire, wasn't in need. She could barely breathe, even her lungs burning. Eli surrounded her, was in her. He'd opened up some secret part of her she'd kept hidden from the world, a primitive, wild uninhibited woman who reveled in everything he did to her. Who needed more. Wanted more. Wanted him. Like this. Wild and out of control to match the wild and out of control she was.
She didn't have a clue where he began and she left off. They seemed to be one person instead of two. She felt his pleasure as surely as she felt her own. It burned through her like a firestorm, rushing through her veins, dragging over her nerve endings until her mind burned with such need she thought she might die of pleasure. She felt him with her, moving in her, but more, moving in her mind, as if he'd somehow merged them together into one being.
"I love you so much, Eli," she whispered, knowing it was true. Knowing whatever had happened between them in the past, he was the man for her.
"Oh, God, baby," he groaned. "You defeat me every damn time."
His surrender. She heard it in his voice. She felt it in the way his hands stroked and caressed her body. The way his cock swelled inside of her, hot and hard, filling her with . . . him.
She closed her eyes and gave herself to him, surrendering everything. The tidal wave ripped through her with hurricane force, sweeping both of them over the edge of sanity for just a few moments, throwing them into subspace where she floated, unafraid, in pure bliss, anchored to him--to Eli.
He collapsed over top of her, pressing his lips to the nape of her neck. "You're going to lead me on such a dance, Kitten."
"I'm going to love you so much, honey, you won't care," she whispered back.
His arms circled her waist, holding her to him. "I already love you so much I don't care," he admitted.
She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. "Strip naked and dance on the table? Really?" She laughed softly.
He grinned at her. "It was worth a try."
"Well. I might consider it for your birthday," she said. "Let me up. I still need my shower."
"Make me coffee first. Mine never tastes as good as yours." Eli didn't move.
She pushed back against him just to feel more delicious aftershocks. "I'm covered in oil. I think a shower is more important than your coffee." She was going to make his coffee because she enjoyed making it for him. He was usually grumpy in the mornings until she put that cup in his hands and he took his first sip. Then he looked at her as if she was the most wonderful, perfect woman who'd ever been born. She wasn't passing that up, not even to shower first.
"Then we'll just have to stay right here, locked together," he murmured against her spine. "Because I can't move without coffee."
Catarina burst out laughing at his grumpy tone. "You're such a baby, Eli."
He heard the capitulation in her voice. "You're going to make my coffee, aren't you, Kitten?"
"I shouldn't. Not after you smacked me on the butt."
He rubbed her left cheek with gentle strokes. "I didn't hurt you."
"If you'd hurt me, Eli, I would have let loose my leopard and you'd be ripped up a bit," Catarina assured.
"That's good, Cat, that's what I want from you. Stand up to me when I get too mean." He eased out of her and once again bent to kiss the base of her spine.
She wasn't going to tell him that when he was mean, his cat was involved, and that might not be the very best time to defy him. Male leopards definitely insisted on dominance with their females. She was figuring it out slowly, but she was getting it, just as Emma had assured her she would.
Pulling the edges of the shirt around her, she straightened. Eli's hands instantly went to her waist, steadying her. She loved that about him. The little things he did, even more than the big things, made her love him more. He always saw to her comfort--especially after they made love.
He tipped her head up and kissed her slowly, gently, his golden eyes almost liquid as they looked into hers. "I do love you, Catarina," he said softly. "More than my own life. I do love you."
She leaned into him. His strength surrounded her. Protected her. She realized in that moment, that's what Eli did. He made certain she was protected, but he allowed her to stand on her own. He wanted her to be as confident in herself and in her ability to survive any situation without him. He'd been wor
king toward that end almost from the moment she met him.
"I love you right back the same way, Eli," she said softly. "More than my own life." She'd give up everything to know he was safe. Alive. Healthy.
He dipped his head as if he might kiss her again, but his lips veered to her ear. "Make my coffee, woman."
She went straight to the coffee machine, laughing as she did so. "Go clean up and I'll have it ready when you come back."
She put extra love into his favorite caramel drink. She always teased him, saying the caramel sweetened him. He said it was the extra shots of espresso. Whichever it was didn't matter, only that smile he gave her when he took his first sip.
Eli returned looking casual in his drawstring pants and light shirt. She knew he wore them, like most shifters, to be able to get out of them fast. His arm swooped around her waist as he took the coffee from her. She watched as he took that first sip and then looked down at her.
"You're a fucking miracle, Catarina," he said, meaning it.
She brushed a kiss over his jaw. "When we have children, Eli, you're going to have to watch your mouth. But this one time, I'll admit, I rather like being your fucking miracle."
He blinked. His mouth twitched. He leaned down and brushed another kiss over her lips. "You don't get to swear. It doesn't sound the same. And for your information, I have been toning it down."
She burst out laughing again. "No way. You let go with two f-bombs in one sentence. That is not toning it down."
"Two exceptions, Kitten." He nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. "When you make me so angry I want to shake you until your teeth rattle, or put you over my knee and make it so you can't sit down for a week or two, I get to drop as many f-bombs as necessary to keep from doing either."
She mulled that over. "Okay. I'll agree."
"That was one exception."
"That was two. Rattling teeth. Not sitting for a week. Two."
"You make me want to do both at the same time, so one," he argued, drinking more of his coffee.
She rolled her eyes. "Fine, that's one. What's the second one?"
His smile made her stomach roll. Let loose a million butterflies. She reached up to brush the pads of her fingers down his jaw, her heart turning over.
"When you make me so crazy, burn so hot, lose my mind when I'm inside you so that I can't do anything else."
Her fingers curled in his hair. Stroked caresses. Anchored there. She loved that his hair was just a little too long and she could curl her fist there. "I like you crazy and burning hot."
"Out of my mind," he reminded, in his sinfully hot voice.
"That too," Catarina conceded. She looked up, into his eyes. Loving him. She knew he could see it and she didn't hide it from him.
He groaned softly. "Go take your shower, baby, before we start all over again. You're so damned tempting, at this rate, I'll never get anything done. We're supposed to be starting a ranch."
She laughed again, just because she was so happy. "We don't actually have any livestock yet, Eli, we can't exactly call this a working ranch. You're going to go sit in your favorite chair on the porch while I shower."
"Well. That's true," he conceded. "But I'm planning."
Catarina shook her head and left him in the kitchen. She didn't dare kiss him again because she knew if she did, she wouldn't stop and he'd need another shower. She had never considered, growing up, not one time, that anyone could be so happy.
She turned music on, her favorite playlist, while she showered. That was another thing Eli had done. Another gift. The moment he discovered she loved music, he'd given her an iPod and showed her how to fill it with the songs she enjoyed. There was a small speaker that she could attach it to, making it easy to listen to her music while she showered.
She liked the water hot, and she stood for a long while under the heavy spray, feeling the way the hot water soaked into her skin and made her feel languid and lazy. Eli never made her feel as if the things she wanted when they made love were wrong. She liked when he was edgy and rough. She liked when he pushed her out of her comfort zone. She liked bossy and arrogant and dominant. She didn't feel as if it made her weak at all.
She reveled in the way they came together. And she really wouldn't mind stripping naked and dancing on the table if he used that one sexy, commanding voice when he told her to do it. She was definitely getting a tattoo on her lower spine, just because he liked caressing her there. He often pressed his lips there.
She didn't want to linger too long there in the shower. She was already thinking about what she'd cook for his breakfast. She enjoyed cooking for him as well. He gave her so much and that was one way she knew she could give back. He enjoyed the meals she made for him. She and Emma had exchanged recipes and she was experimenting with some of them to make them even better.
She wrapped her hair in a towel and dried off, taking her time. Her body still felt sensual and sensitive, especially her breasts. She was a little sore between her legs, but that wasn't unusual. Eli was large and thick and they went a little crazy sometimes. She liked rough and he usually was very rough. Still, those little tinges only served to remind her of his possession. She loved being possessed by him.
She dressed carefully, choosing clothes that came off fast and easy. She had caches scattered around the ranch, just as Eli did. It was something most shifters did, just in case they were caught somewhere and needed clothes and supplies. The everyday clothes they wore were clothes they could shed as fast and efficiently as possible.
She loved her boots. Loved them. Shifters didn't wear boots that often because they were much harder to get off. Still, she loved them, and when Rafe was out of her life, she intended to wear every single pair lined up in her closet. That thought made her very happy.
She pulled on a skirt, tugging it to her hips. The band was wide and comfortable, the material falling in graceful ruffles to her ankles. The skirt was one of her favorites, so soft and swingy, very feminine. She knew Eli liked it. He'd chosen it for her when they'd ordered clothes off one of her favorite Internet sites. She'd looked at it all the time, but she never actually ordered anything until Eli had encouraged her.
When everything with Rafe was finally settled, she wanted to get a job in town and make her own money so she wasn't reliant on Eli for funds. She knew instinctively that it would be a fight. Eli was a macho alpha male and he believed he should provide for his woman.
She stared at herself in the mirror as she unwrapped her hair and it fell to her waist. He loved her hair long. He loved her to wear it down. She always did in the house, just to please him, but when she went running with him or climbing, she clipped it up. True, it was convenient to have it up, but mostly she put it up so he'd take it down. She loved the way he did that, all impatient, a frown on his face and then his hands would be in her hair, fingers threading through the strands so possessively.
She brushed all the tangles out, taking her time, looking at the woman she'd become. A few months ago she could never have looked at her body and been confident and proud of herself. She'd been ashamed of her lack of formal education. She'd found fault with every curve. She brought her hands up to her breasts. Now, she loved the sight of the body that pleased Eli so much. He worshiped her body.
Eli's marks were everywhere on her skin, on her curves, those dark smudges that told her the path his hands and mouth had followed. She loved seeing those signs of his possession. The sight always made her feel even sexier.
She chose a lacy white camisole to wear so she wouldn't have to wear a bra for support. The camisole fit snugly around her breasts and was tight around her rib cage. It was short, baring a strip of her midriff, the real reason she chose it. Eli could never resist touching her bare skin. The zipper on the side allowed her to get out of it fast, so she knew if he decided to practice shifting, she'd be much faster than he would think and she might actually best him.
She rarely wore panties at home, especially when she knew they'd be shifting.
It was just one more item of clothing to get rid of, slowing her down. A thong or boy shorts could cost her precious seconds, just as a bra could. She made a mental note to consult with Emma about what she did when it came to clothing.
She left her hair down to dry, brushed her teeth thoroughly and made her way to the kitchen to begin cooking. Of course Eli was outside on the porch. Dawn was breaking. He loved to watch the light streaking through the dark. She made the dough for the beignets before she made her own coffee. Eli had grown fond of the warm treat with his coffee after breakfast and she always made them fresh.
She took her time making her coffee, looking around her kitchen. Eli had told her she could do anything she wanted with it and she had. He'd bought her the stove and pots and pans, the rest was her design and the touches that made life easier for her when she was working. The touches that made her feel as if the kitchen truly belonged to her.
Eli had given her that as well. Love welled up. Overwhelmed her. She needed him. Needed to be close to him. More and more she found herself drawn to him. Just like this. Her breasts ached and she found it was a wonderful sensation because the thought of Eli put that there. Her feminine core pounded with heat, and again, she loved the soreness that came from Eli's thick cock, stretching and burning her. She was glad that with every step she took, she could feel him.
Pushing open the screen door, she stepped outside. It was still dark, the light barely filtering through, but mostly that was because of the black clouds churning in the sky overhead.
The scent of blood hit her just as her gaze swept the porch. On the far side of the porch, away from the door, something heavy hung from chains. Swaying. Her heart stopped for a moment and then began to pound. She wanted to run to the swaying body--and it was a body--she could see that now. Not just any body, but Eli.
20
CATARINA froze. She forced every muscle to lock in place. There was no way to take her horrified gaze from Eli's golden one. His face was swollen. Blood streaked not only his face and head, but his chest as well. Clearly, while she'd been showering, daydreaming, Eli had been tortured.