Wild Cat (24 page)

His breath exploded out of him. His face darkened. He was beautiful. Gorgeous. Hers. Power was a heady thing, and she knew she was getting to him. His voice changed subtly. That smooth, velvet rasp became a little more hoarse. A little harsher.

“I know better. I know you're too damned good for me, but there you are. And I'm not man enough to send you on your way because you're the reason I survived that shit. You're the reason I stayed alive and protected my sister. You're the reason, Siena.”

Her heart beating hard, melting at the things he told her, she sucked hard and fluttered her tongue against the underside of that crown. His breath left his lungs. She heard it as her tongue swirled, shaping him, caressing him. Exploring. Taking her time.

She moved over him now, body undulating restlessly, making its own demands, her breasts sliding over his thighs, the hair rasping against her nipples. Her mouth worked him. She was intimidated by his size and tentative at first about trying to take him deeper, but he let her do all the work, set the pace, and he never pushed her.

His hand left hers to settle in her hair. She liked that. Liked that he loved the silky mess she could never quite keep under control. She found she liked her mouth on him. The way he tasted. Hot. Masculine. Salt and spice. Maybe it was the leopard in her, because she hadn't thought she would enjoy giving him pleasure unless she was so wild she was out of control, not like this, a deliberate seduction, but she did.

Watching him watch her as she took him deeper was just plain erotic and sent little streaks of fire darting to her sex. Damp, liquid heat pulsed between her legs. The burn was
so hot now she began to lose her own control. There was nothing tentative about the way she used her mouth or her hand on him. The way her other hand strayed to his balls, rolling gently, loving the velvet feel of him.

Part of it was the things he told her about himself. He made her all the hotter, and she knew he had managed to distract her from being self-conscious or afraid of doing something wrong. How could she do anything wrong when he was baring his soul to her? Telling her what she meant to him. Letting her know she was his everything?

He groaned. His hands tightened in her hair, the bite of pain sharp. His hips jerked, pushed his cock deeper so that he touched the back of her throat. A thrill shot down her spine. He looked lost in the sensations she created. The look on his face was more than enough for a reward. So beautiful. So masculine. Lines of pleasure carved deep, so sensual and just plain hot.

There was no denying she felt incredibly sexy. The burn in her sex had gotten out of control, the tension coiling tighter until she thought it was possible she could have an orgasm just watching his face.

“Baby,” he groaned softly. “You're about done.”

She loved when he called her that. But she wasn't about done. He was thicker. Harder. Longer. A treat. Hers. She clamped down tightly with her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and using her tongue. He was a man who had never had love. Never had care. He had given himself to her, and she wanted him to know she could take just as good care of him as he did her.

His body shuddered. “That's it. Come here to me.”

She wasn't through. She
loved
what she was doing. She loved how it made her feel to bring that look to his face. She loved that she could give him so much pleasure. He took care of her, saw to her every need, and she was determined to do the same. He needed it. He needed to know that to her, he was worth every second she spent bringing him pleasure.

He reached down and caught her beneath her arms and hauled her up his body with his enormous strength. Before she could protest, he rolled her, her back to his front and then rolled both of them, so she ended up belly down in the bed, his body covering hers. He sank back on his calves, caught her hips and yanked her to her knees, one hand sliding up her back to settle between her shoulder blades. He pushed her head to the mattress, holding her still with one hand.

Excitement flared. She secretly loved the growls rumbling from his chest and the way his eyes turned from molten mercury to quicksilver. She loved the feel of his hands, so hard, fingers gripping, digging into her.

“You kept that up,
mi vida
, I would have finished in your mouth.” Now his voice was a growl too.

Siena was glad her face was pressed into the mattress because there was no way she could have hidden her smile from him. She wouldn't have minded. He thought he was still protecting her, but she was so far past that now. He'd handed her confidence, and she wasn't going to
ever
go back to being uncertain. He'd given her too much of himself for her not to realize what she meant to him.

One hand transferred to the nape of her neck, holding her in the position he wanted. The other moved over her bottom, rubbing gently. He traced the indentations in the small of the back, slid over the curves of her firm cheeks to the junction between her thighs.

Siena shivered. His fingers moved to her inner thighs, stroking little circles just beneath her pulsing sex.

“Spread your knees for me, baby,” he ordered softly. “As wide as you can.”

She liked that too. She complied immediately, spreading her thighs as wide as possible. His fingers never stopped dancing along her skin. Everywhere he touched, he left behind flames. His caresses were so light that at first she barely felt them, but then they began to sear right through her skin to
her core. Her sheath wept for him. Grew hotter. Tension coiled tighter. She pushed back, seeking more.

His hand went away and her breath left her body in a long rush.

“Elijah,” she wailed.

“Behave,” he ordered. “You had your fun. I get mine.”

She supposed that was only fair, but he was torturing her, and she had the feeling he was
way
better at it than she was. She forced her body to be still. The moment his hand came back, she closed her eyes and drifted on that tide, allowing the sensuality of his touch to take her higher.

“Oh, God, honey,” she gasped. “I need more.”

He didn't reply right away, at least not verbally. He sank a finger into her tight heat, and the air rushed from her lungs. He pushed deep and it took everything she had not to push back.

“Just so you know, baby, a man like me
never
forgets protection. Never forgets to wear a glove.
You're
the only woman in my life who managed to make me forget everything but losing myself in your body.”

He pushed a second finger into her, stretching her tight muscles. At the same time he leaned into her and bit down gently on her left cheek. The shock of pain mingled with pleasure bursting through her so that her head swam, brain short-circuiting instantly.

“Not only did I not wear a condom, I forgot all about the fucking hit man I knew had to be making his approach. I was so far gone in you, Siena, both of us could have been killed. You know damn well all that shit I said to you was just plain bull, because it was.”

The fingers withdrew and then pushed deep again. She heard her breath come in a ragged sob. His mouth moved over her buttocks, tasting the silk of her skin, moving down the curve so his tongue could trace along the crease between her thigh and then back to that firm swell of her butt.

She could barely think when his teeth bit down a second
time while his fingers continued to plunge in and out of her. She gasped. Pushed back. Ground down desperately on his fingers, a sob of need escaping.

Just like that his fingers were gone. “Don't move, baby,” he hissed. “You stay still and let me play. I'm going to leave my brand on you.”

Heat scored through her. The blood rushed hot through her veins. She
loved
his voice, loved the way his hand smoothed over her skin, and his mouth went to the inside of her thigh and the stubble of the shadow along his jaw rasped over the inside of her legs. Then he was sucking. High. Close to her sex. She knew she'd have a strawberry there. It felt sexy and hot. Very hot. She could barely breathe, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Elijah.” His name came out a plea.

“Have we erased the major fuckup of the century, or do we need to do some more work to make you put that shit to bed
permanently
?”

His teeth scraped along her inner thigh. Close. So close to her heated center. Her sex spasmed. She felt almost desperate.

“I never want you to feel a lack of confidence again, Siena,” he went on, his voice dark with hunger and lust. “I never want you to think about that shit again. And I sure don't want to hear about it. No man wants to have that big of a fuckup thrown in his face. You get me?”

She got him. She would have smiled at the edge to his voice, but her brain could only focus on the need pulsing in her. Every cell in her body ached for him. She felt moisture on her inner thighs. His tongue licked up her leg in a sexy, hungry gesture that sent more damp liquid pulsing through her channel.

“Elijah.” She sobbed his name, pleading with him.

“That's not what I want to hear, baby.” His tongue stroked across her entrance, collecting the taste of honeysuckle spilling from her body.

Her brain was scrambled but she managed to pull herself together enough to get the words out. Her voice shook, but she gave him what he wanted. “I think it's safe to say it's been put to bed permanently, Elijah.”

“About damn time,” he growled, and then his mouth was on her.

She heard her own keening wail as his tongue thrust deep and he suckled, devouring her. Not gentle. Not easy. A man starving. Ravenous. The contrast between the way he had played so gently with her, his fingers light on her skin, barely there, and now his tongue and teeth and mouth ravaging her sent her spiraling out of control.

Her body clamped down, rippling, the breath-stealing orgasm rushing over her before she had a chance to even know it was there. He didn't stop. He consumed her, claimed her body for his own, ate at her, drawing out the hot cream and demanding more. She didn't have a chance to catch her breath before the second one overtook with even greater force than the first.

She chanted his name. Sobbed as pleasure took her, fragmenting her body and sending pieces of her in a million different directions. If he hadn't clamped his hands around her hips, she would have collapsed onto the bed. He didn't stop. Not even when the bliss threatened to drive her right out of her mind and she pleaded with him, gasping out his name and fisting the sheets in her hands on either side of her head.

“No, baby, I want more,” he whispered against her entrance, his tongue licking at the cream in between each word.

His teeth scraped at her sensitive bud, and her sheath convulsed. Her head thrashed back and forth on the mattress, facedown, side to side, hair spilling around her until she couldn't see. That only intensified the sensations. His hand was suddenly in her hair, gathering the silky mass into his fist and yanking her head up even as he knelt up behind her, the flared head of his cock burrowing into her entrance.

For a moment her heart seemed to stop beating in
anticipation, but the orgasm ripping through her continued to pulse and throb. He drove forward hard. Slamming home, burying himself to the hilt. In the position he held her, he could go even deeper, his thickness burning and stretching her as he took her hard and fast. The orgasm increased in strength, gripping him, milking, until the fiery friction sent her reeling into subspace.

His fingers dug into her hips and he yanked her back into him as he surged forward again and again, sending whips of lightning through her body straight to her core, up her belly and into her breasts. He rode her hard, an endless, dazzling ride, brutal and rough, pushing her high again.

The tension coiled so tightly inside her, she feared her mind would unravel with her body this time. Fear skittered down her spine, but that just seemed to add to the building need burning inside her. He seemed insatiable, demanding more of her. He swore in his language, his voice a rough rasp over her skin, the sound stroking her insides.

“So. Fucking. Beautiful.” He bit the words out. “You're killing me baby. Scorching hot. Strangling me with fire. Fucking beautiful. Give that to me again.”

“I can't . . .” She couldn't. Not again. But he was relentless, pounding into her, forcing her body to build and build. Coil tighter and tighter. Soar higher and higher. “Elijah.” Again she sobbed his name, her fingernails digging into her palms through the sheets. She was going to come apart, and this time there would be no putting her back together because each orgasm had gotten bigger. Stronger. Lasted longer.

“For me, baby. Give that gift to me again,” he whispered.

She felt him, already so big, thickening more. Stretching her, the relentless pounding increasing in strength. Her body shattered. Clamped down hard on his, dragging over his steely shaft, bathing him with hot liquid, but so tight the friction threatened to set both of them on fire.

She screamed, the sound tearing up from her core, through her belly and breasts and out her throat. She turned
her head to muffle the sound in the mattress, terrified her cries would bring the security guards running to save her. Elijah's body swelled even more, stretching her through the force of her orgasm, the fire streaking around him. Hot jets of seed rocketed deep.

It took forever for her body to quiet, to calm, to settle into rippling aftershocks that kept his body shuddering right along with hers. Elijah pressed kisses down her spine, his arms locked around her hips.

“You okay, baby?” he asked when he got his breathing under control.

“I don't know,” she answered honestly. “Don't move.”

“No worries,
mi amor
, that would be impossible right now. You drained me of everything. My brain is fried right along with my body.”

Even as he assured her he wouldn't move, he was slipping out of her, his heavy cock dragging over her sensitive bud so that another violent quake burst through her. She would have collapsed forward, but he rolled her to her side, tucking her to him, his head at her breast. The slide of his hair on her skin sent a burn rushing through her veins.