Wild Cat

by Christine Feehan

  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.

  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.

  13

  ELIJAH 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 thi
ghs.

  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.