"Eli." She breathed his name, looking up at him, feeling helpless and vulnerable.
Eli looked down into Catarina's face. She was so beautiful and she looked so frightened. He dragged her close, tight into him, fitting her body into his while his hands held her face tipped upward toward his. He brought his mouth down gently. He didn't feel gentle, but she needed this moment. She needed gentle and tender.
He kissed her with love. He even tasted it on his own tongue. He didn't have a clue when it happened, maybe the first time he found himself laughing with her, but he definitely knew when he stretched out beside her and tugged her body into his in bed. He didn't sleep with women. He had no problems fucking them, but then they were gone. He was gone. He didn't bring them home, especially not here.
Everything changed the moment Catarina stepped into his house--everything--because it felt different. It felt like home instead of a house. So he held himself back, and it took a lot of restraint to control the wildness building inside of him. He kissed her over and over, his tongue stroking caresses, teasing and dueling with hers until her breathing was ragged and her hands were frantic.
Then he devoured her with a ravenous appetite that knew no boundaries. He took her mouth like the savage cat he was, bit her lower lip, the one he couldn't get his mind off. He loved her mouth and he made certain she knew it intimately.
He left her mouth to burn kisses down her throat. He liked that she was naked and he was fully clothed. There was something very decadent about that. He kept her hands from pulling his shirt off. Instead he dropped his hands to the waistband of his sweats and pushed them down over his hips.
Her gaze dropped. Her breath caught. He widened his stance as he bunched her long hair in his fist. Her leopard was rising close to the surface again, and as much as he wanted to give her the time to heal, there was only one way to stop the terrible burn.
"Kneel down, baby," he said, keeping his voice low, an authoritative whip.
"I need . . ." She trailed off.
"I know what you need, just kneel down, knees wide. I want to see that you're wet and ready for me. I want to see that you enjoy giving your man pleasure." It was subtle enough, he slipped that in there, knowing in her highly aroused state she wouldn't notice that he'd called himself her man. She'd get used to it though.
She moistened her lips and he nearly groaned. She was sexy without trying, her body flushed, her breasts swaying with every move she made. He wanted to touch her, but he didn't allow himself to. That would lead to other things, and right now, he wanted her to learn about pleasing him.
He kept his gaze on hers, not giving an inch when she hesitated, and finally, she dropped her eyes to his fully aroused cock and then slowly sank to her knees. She was graceful, beautiful, her dark hair a sharp contrast to her light skin. Her breasts drew his attention, full and round and high, her nipples taut, waiting for his mouth.
Her hands slid up his thighs and then she was cupping his sac and he wanted to throw his head back and roar with primal need, but he breathed his way through it, using his hand in her hair to pull her head over him.
"That's what you need, Cat, right there. You learned a little last night. You're going to learn more right now." He exerted pressure on her head.
Her tongue licked up his shaft and then up and over the flared head. His breath left his lungs in a rush. She began licking like a cat. Over his balls, under them, up his shaft and back down, and then he was inside her hot, moist mouth and she sucked, her tongue still dancing. She had good instincts and she used them. He let her explore on her own until he thought he might lose his mind.
Breathing deep, he caught her hair on both sides of her head and held her still. He waited until her eyes met his. The cobalt blue had gone a deep violet and he could see her leopard was close. So close. She was wild and needy. He scented Cat's call, and the taste of honey and spice was already on his tongue.
"That's good, Kitten, very good. Right now, I'm going to push a little deeper. I want you to take a breath and relax, let me in. I'll count to ten and give you another breath." He waited until she complied and then he took over, not allowing movement while he gently thrust deeper with his hips.
For a moment he thought she'd struggle. He watched her face carefully. Her gaze didn't leave his and he saw her make the effort to relax her mouth and throat for him. He inched farther into that tunnel of unbearable tightness. He pulled back and let her have air before he thrust again. The pleasure was exquisite. Perfect. He went three more times, not taking advantage, not sliding deeper.
"We'll go fifteen counts, babe," he bit out. It came out more a growl. He couldn't help it. She was beautiful on her knees, her mouth tight around his cock, her legs open so he could see the welcoming moisture collecting at her entrance.
She nodded and he watched her take another breath. He slipped deeper this time, still gentle, still careful.
"Suck hard, baby, use your tongue."
He loved that she complied, that she didn't question him or fight him. Her hands cupped his balls, slid over his thighs, always kept contact with him as he thrust gently deep into her mouth.
The fire in his belly grew, flames leaping and burning and his cock felt scorched in the blaze, enveloped in the inferno of her mouth. He pulled back before it was too late, and pulled her to her feet, no longer gentle. She'd driven him out of his mind with her mouth and he wanted her his way.
He lifted her easily, planted her butt on the edge of the counter, yanked her knees apart, pushed one hand into her belly so she was forced to tip backward, forced to prop herself up on her elbows. That gave him access to everything he wanted. He dipped his head and ate her. Ravenously. Ferociously. A man starved.
He was ruthless. Relentless. This was his and he was addicted to it. Honey and spice, a scorching tight cauldron, all his. She screamed out an orgasm as he took her up fast, but he hardly heard with the roaring in his head and the thundering of his blood in his ears. He suckled, licked, used his fingers and thumb, the edge of his teeth and kept devouring her right through a second and third orgasm.
"I need you. Please, I need you now."
Her sobbing plea finally penetrated. He licked the honey off her thighs and lifted his head, again waiting.
"Tell me what you need, and use my name."
Her breath hissed out, her eyes flashing at him. He dragged her ass right off the counter, her legs over his shoulder, his mouth clamped between her legs, feeding, uncaring that she writhed and struggled. He forced another orgasm, this one so powerful she screamed through it. He didn't stop.
"Eli! Please. Eli." She sounded close to tears, not sobbing with pleasure, but real tears. She didn't like asking. "I need you inside me. Please."
He rewarded her instantly, pulling her all the way off the counter. "Wrap your legs around me, Kitten. Hook your ankles." He was full. Bursting even. His cock felt as if it might explode. His body was hotter than hades and lightning seemed to fork through his veins.
She did exactly what he instructed and he didn't waste time--he surged up as he forced her hips down. Fire streaked through him. His cock drove through hot, tight folds, forcing her body to accommodate his size. Her tight channel squeezed him and the friction, as he pummeled into her, just drove him wilder.
He needed more, and he took her to the floor, pumping into her even as he went down over her. There was no give, nothing to cushion her body, so he could pound into her deeper and harder.
She used her feet to push upward, tilting her hips to allow for even deeper penetration. Her nails bit into his shoulders, scored down his back and the bite of pain only added to the frenzy of need. He allowed himself to lose control. He didn't want to ever stop. He never wanted to be separated from her, and he damn well wasn't going to let her think she could ever live without him. Without this.
He had no other way to tie her to him, but he had this. This he was good at. He might say and do the wrong thing, but he would tie her to him this way. He moved in her and the earth moved around him. He bent his head to her breast, suckling hard, using the edge of his teeth and feeling the hot wash of spiced honey bathing his cock as he plunged into her over and over.
She came again and then again, gasping for breath, her eyes shocked and dazed, which only spurred him on. He whipped his arm under her hips, lifting her more, pounding deep as fire streaked up from his legs, burst through his thighs and took his cock in a crowning storm. Her body clamped down, a vicious vise around him, locking there as he emptied himself into her, the friction bordering on pain. The scalding heat triggered a powerful quake in her, sweeping through her entire body, a long, hard orgasm that seemed as if it might never go away.
He took a breath, his hair damp, his body covered in sweat, but for once in his life, he was completely sated, limp and relaxed. He let himself cover her smaller body, resting on her soft curves, feeling her heart pounding every bit as hard as his own. He was heavy, too heavy for her, and he levered himself up, staying buried in her.
They were locked tight, their bodies connected and he wanted to stay there. He pushed at her heavy fall of hair. She didn't look at him. She kept her face turned away and her eyes closed tight. He felt the little hitch in her breath. She was going to cry, and this wasn't about pleasure or need, this was something altogether different. This was about shame.
"Don't." He ordered it. Meant it.
Her hands curled at his shoulders. She exerted pressure. He didn't move. He decided on honesty.
"I'm trying to think of something to say that will help you understand what's going on, baby, but all I can think about is how much I love being inside of you. You're scorching hot and fucking tight, wrapped around me and I feel like I'm in paradise. I don't want that to end. Tell me how it feels to you."
Little aftershocks were still going off and he felt every one of them. Her muscles squeezed down with hot greed, still trying to milk him.
"This isn't me."
"It's you, Cat. This is you. You don't just like sex--you love it. You have more passion in your little finger than most people do in their entire bodies."