Cat's Lair (42 page)

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Authors: Christine Feehan

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Romance

BOOK: Cat's Lair
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“Eli.” She could barely get his name out.

“Hmmm?” He didn’t look up. Didn’t stop tormenting her. He licked more. His hands framed her entrance so that he could dip his tongue into her again and again while she writhed under him. “You know what I want from you.”

She couldn’t think. There was no way to think. No way to remember what he wanted. She’d give him anything. Do anything. Let him do anything. Wasn’t that enough? She bit back a sob of frustration as once again she got so close, the burning between her legs nearly exploding, and then he lifted his head as if he knew – and he probably did. He licked along the insides of her thighs.

Shards of desire clawed and raked at her. Streaks of fire rushed from her breasts to her core. She needed him. Was burning up with that need. She couldn’t stay still. His mouth and fingers were relentless. He pushed her up and up until she thought she would come apart and never be put back together, but just before she could make that drop, he slowed his feast and left her panting and pleading.

“I don’t,” she admitted, her voice trembling, her mind in such chaos she wanted to scream with frustration or sob with need, “I don’t know what you want.”

He took another long, slow swipe with his tongue and she nearly shattered. Nearly. She came off the bed, or tried to, but she couldn’t move her hands and he had her pinned down and completely open to him.

“I want more than ‘Eli’ from you. And I want you to say, in words, how you feel about me.” His voice was a command. A threat. A promise.

She went still. Her heart thundered in her chest. His mouth went right over her slick entrance, his tongue plunging deep, and she did sob as the pleasure pushed to the point of pain. She needed to come. Needed to shatter.

“Honey, please.” That was the best she could do. The best she could come up with when her body wasn’t her own and her brain couldn’t think. “Please. Please. Please.”

“Please what?” he murmured, not lifting his head. He began a lazy, languid licking of her body. Flicking his tongue. Using his teeth and fingers and then retreating when she went mindless and boneless just before she could tip over the edge.

“I need you in me.” She was begging and she didn’t care.

“I need something from you, baby. I need it more than you need what I can give you, so let’s trade.” Again he didn’t look at her. He was too busy with his clever tongue and his exploring fingers.

She swallowed fear. This man of hers made her crazy, there was no doubt about it, but he was hers. She’d given herself to him for a reason. He was her choice and he had been since the first time she’d even seen him in the dojo, instructing advanced students. She’d known then that she could belong to him.

She had never given her trust to another human being. Not ever. Eli had been the first person she’d given even a part of herself to and now he wanted it all. Demanded it all, which was just like him.

“Baby?” he prompted gently. “Give it to me. I need to hear it.”

This time he raised his head, his glittering cat’s eyes suddenly focused completely on hers. Her heart pounded harder. She tasted fear. She tasted love. She didn’t want to love him. She wanted to belong to him, but she didn’t want to love him. Loving him was terrifying. He already had too much of her, and what if she disappeared when she was just finding herself? What if she couldn’t stand up to him? He was a dominant male and he’d be more so if he knew.

“Baby?” he coaxed again, his gaze holding hers captive. “Say it. Tell me. Give me what I need.”

Tears tracked down her cheeks. “What if I can’t?”

“You can. You’re just afraid. Say it once. Give that to me.” With his gaze still on hers, he pressed little butterfly kisses up and down her thighs, his tongue lapping at the spilled spice coating her there, fluttering along her skin until she thought she might go up in flames.

Catarina swallowed fear. He knew. He already knew. What difference did it make that she say it aloud to him? Why was he making her? She forced herself to really look at him, to get past the haze of hunger and lust driving her.

His face was carved with lines of need. The set of his jaw, so stubborn, the straight nose and hard features that were purely masculine. But it was there, in his golden eyes, eyes that had gone molten and nearly all leopard. She saw the truth there. The need. He wasn’t just playing some sexual game, out to force her to obey him. He was telling her the absolute, stark truth. He needed to hear the words from her. They meant something to him.

She exhaled and hadn’t known she’d been holding her breath. He had told her he loved her first. He’d put himself out there, but somehow, she hadn’t considered that it was really true. How could it be? What was she giving him? She didn’t even have a high school diploma. How could he possibly love her? How could he need her the way his eyes said so starkly that he did?

“Damn it, Cat, give it to me.” Now it was a demand. A growl. Dominance winning through all his lazy sensual facade.

He’d given her two orgasms but her body was so greedy that she needed more. She was on fire. An inferno. The growling demand nearly sent her over the edge. She loved his voice. Loved it when he narrowed his eyes and focused with ferocious, furious intent. Her body always responded, going hot, blood rushing through her veins. She came alive.

Her hands gripped the headboard tightly. She needed to hold on to something. Anything. Because what she was about to do was enormous to her. That last piece of her. The one she’d kept for herself. The one she protected. He was demanding it. He knew. Somehow he knew, and he wanted all of her. He wanted the last piece of her that she’d been guarding. Holding safe.

She moistened her lips. “I do, Eli. You know I do.”

“You do what, Catarina? Say it, damn you. Do you think I’m going to accept less than all of you? Say it out loud. Right now. And know what it means.” His voice had gone harsh. Low and harsh. Velvet soft, but filled with iron. Steel. He wasn’t going to back down and his mouth and hands kept the fire inside her roaring.

Catarina knew she was going to give him what he wanted. What he demanded. There was nowhere to hide. He didn’t let her. She felt stripped down. Bare. Completely vulnerable, and it had nothing at all to with the way he held her body open to him. She could easily give him her body. Even maybe her heart. But he demanded her soul.

His teeth nipped. A sharp, stinging pain. All the while those golden eyes blazed into hers. Intense focus. A leopard’s stare when he claimed his prey.

She swallowed again and let go. Let herself fall. “I love you, Eli. You know I do. I love you with everything in me.”

She watched his eyes when she said it. He looked merciless. Ruthless. The moment the words were out in the open between them, those eyes went soft. Melted. She saw absolute, raw vulnerability and the flood of love there. She’d never seen him like that, or imagined him like that. Naked for her to see into him. Her stomach clenched. Her channel spasmed, and her heart turned over. She needed to hold him, to put her arms around him and get as close as possible. She wanted to cry seeing the look on his face because in her wildest dreams, she never imagined he really felt that way toward her. That soul-searing deep.

“That’s my Kitten,” he whispered softly. “So brave.”

She couldn’t stop the warm glow that spread at the thought of putting that look on his face, of giving him something that obviously meant everything to him.

Eli moved then, fast, coming over top of her, blanketing her completely, pinning her under him. His mouth went straight to her breast, his hand slipping between her legs to position himself at her entrance. She tried hard to push herself against him, to impale herself on his gorgeous, erect shaft, but his weight made it impossible to move. He held her there, watching the helpless pleasure on her face. Loving that.

“Eli, honey, I want to hold you. I want to be able to touch you.” She whispered it, half desperate to feel his skin with her hands.

Without hesitation, he reached for the key on the nightstand and deftly stretched one arm up to unlock the cuffs. He tossed them aside along with the key and caught her wrists to look at them quickly.

She didn’t care about her wrists. She wanted him inside of her. She wanted to feel his hot skin under her palms so she wrapped him up as quickly as she could, as tightly as she could. Her arms. Her legs. She hooked her ankles around his hips, her breathing ragged, while her nipples rubbed tight against the heavy muscles of his chest.

She ran her hands up his chest to his shoulders, over and then down his back, taking him in, pulling him closer. She couldn’t get enough of him.

“Honey, you have to be inside me,” she whispered against his chest, her tongue licking at his skin. He tasted wild. Masculine. Like rain forests. Her fist clenched in his hair for a moment, pulling his head back. She felt wild with pleasure, with hunger. “I need you inside me, Eli.”

His eyes glowed like those of the leopard he was. Hot. Golden fire. Piercing her soul. He was hers, as wild and primitive as a man could be. A shifter. Dangerous and dark, but he loved her. And he could bring her to ecstasy.

His cock slammed deep into her, driving hard, forcing her delicate, tight muscles to give way for his intrusion. At first, like it always did, her feminine channel resisted, but there was no holding back against such a force.

She knew he thought he held her prisoner, just as Rafe had done, but she knew she could get away from him. He would never hurt her. He would never kill to force her to stay. “You saved me,” she whispered. “Eli, honey, you saved me.”

His head reared back, those beautiful, golden eyes blazing with heat. Then her ability to think was gone entirely. He thrust hard and deep, over and over, a wild, primitive taking, a claiming. She recognized that much, but her body was making a climb, tension coiling and flames racing.

Eli watched her face carefully as he pistoned into her body with hard, deep strokes. She gave him everything. Surrendered everything to him. She gave him control of her body, trusting him to give her pleasure, to make certain she was never harmed. She gave him so much that the only way he could give back was this wild, driving force inside of him to possess her. To love her. To give her more pleasure than any other man possibly could.

He took her savagely, almost brutally, feeling her wildness, feeling her spiraling out of control. He loved to see the dazed look in her eyes, the flush on her body. Her nipples like hard little pebbles tempting him.

She was beautiful all the time, but especially so when she came apart in his arms. He felt her surrounding him with her soft body. Her arms. Her legs. Her sweet, hot channel squeezing the life out of him.

He loved her soft, ragged pleas. Her gasping, broken cries. Her music only added to the agonizing pleasure through every cell in his body. She bared his soul to the world, and she had no idea she did it. He needed the desperate hunger flowing through her body just as much as he needed air to breathe. He could give her this. So much pleasure. She had no idea how high he could take her, but he pushed her limits just a little more each time.

His body wasn’t his own anymore. It belonged to her. To Catarina. He was hard every damn time he looked at her. His needs and cravings only grew with his addiction to her soft cries, her tight, hot body and the pleasure coursing through her at his touch.

“Eli.”

A plea. Music. Such need. Such surrender. She never held anything away from him, not even her emotions, not even when she feared what they were together. She gave and gave. He needed to give just as much. More.

He poured himself into loving her. Bringing her as high as he dared, watching her face for signals, for when the pleasure was too much for her, her body too sensitive and the need too great. Her eyes widened. Her mouth opened in a long wailing scream as he sent her crashing over the edge.

He loved her body clamping down like a scorching silken vise, milking him, gripping so hard his cock was strangling in all that hot, wet silk. He felt the explosion start, a wild ecstasy, somewhere in his toes, rocketing through his body, straight to his skull. His cock swelled, pushing back at those tight, vise-like muscles, stretching and burning her to the point where pain and pleasure came together in a single point to set off another wild, earth-shattering quake in her body.

This time she took him with her, her keening cries and breathless whispers nearly shattering him just as much as the hot sheath surrounding him and her sweet declaration of love and surrender to him had. He threw his head back, wanting to roar with the shocking pleasure. It had never been like this, an all-consuming passion that wrung him inside out.

No other man had ever had her. He was the one to be gifted with such a sensual woman, to teach her, to mold her into the lover he wanted and needed. She matched him, fire for fire. He closed his eyes and buried his face in her neck, holding her tight, feeling her body surround his, the aftershocks that shook them both. Her ragged breathing. Her hands in his hair, gripping and stroking as her tight delicate muscles did the same to his shaft.

“God, Kitten, it’s a damn good thing you have no idea how much I love you,” he whispered into her soft skin. Feeling her pulse. Feeling her tight, feminine channel spasm around his cock at the admission. She could destroy him. So easily. So very easily.

He had no idea when he’d surrendered himself body and soul to her, but somewhere along the line it had happened. He’d never felt more stripped down and vulnerable to a human being, but she needed to hear it. She needed the reassurance, and he wasn’t about to allow pride or ego to get in the way of giving her anything she needed.

She didn’t say it back, didn’t whisper in his ear, but her arms tightened around him possessively and her soft mouth moved on his chest, kissing him. He rolled, taking them to his side, not wanting to let go of her.

“I like you close, baby,” he said softly. “Skin to skin. Part of me.” It was a small warning. He wasn’t going to allow her to slip away from him and roll into that little ball as she sometimes did. “You get me?”

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