Cat's Lair

by Christine Feehan

"Lucky for me you don't get a choice," he said. "When your leopard emerges there's only going to be me to help you." There was satisfaction in his voice. "Now go to sleep. You're trying to get under my skin and, Kitten, just a little FYI, you're already there. Don't push your luck."

  Something in his tone, in the set of his jaw and his molten eyes stopped her from taking another dig at him, although it was tempting. Instead, she turned away from him and closed her eyes, scooting all the way to the edge of the bed, willing him to leave. He didn't. He just pulled her close into his body, spooning her. One leg slid over the top of hers, and his head leaned down to press into her hair.

  She stiffened, hating the way her blood ran so hot. Hating that she was so aware of him. Hating the fact that she couldn't fight him, too tired, too battle-scarred already.

  "Just go to sleep, Kitten," he said softly.

  In that voice. The one she loved. If she cried again, she was going to hit him. She felt the brush of his mouth in her hair and somehow the tension drained out of her and she let herself drift off.

  7

  CATARINA woke with her body unbearably hot. Her breasts felt swollen and achy. There was a terrible burning between her legs. It was absolutely impossible to stay still. Her body writhed along the cool sheets. It was impossible to stop, even with the knowledge that she was pressed up against Eli Perez. His body had somehow become wrapped around hers, his knee intimately between her legs and his hand shaping her breast.

  She tried to breathe away the fire, but the tension in her only coiled tighter. Eli was hot, his skin burning through hers. She realized that sometime in the night he had shed his boots and clothes. He wore only a thin pair of drawstring sweats and he was pressed tight against her buttocks. He felt . . . delicious.

  Her heart beat hard and her breathing became ragged. She craved him. His touch. The feel of his fingers on her skin. His mouth on her. She needed to taste him. Taste his kiss. His skin. To feel his heavy erection in her palm, in her mouth, deep inside of her. The craving grew until thunder roared in her ears.

  She tried to still her mind. To pray. To fight the chaotic, unbelievable burn that scorched her. That demanded. Craved. Flames seem to burn her skin and the material of the sheet actually hurt her skin. She had to stay still, but it was impossible. She needed, and he was right there. She couldn't fight that terrible, desperate burn one second longer.

  She turned, and crawled up his body. Crawled. She needed his body tight against hers so she could feel the throb of his cock against her mound. He reacted with a groan and his erection grew harder and thicker. Perfect. Just the feel of him there fed the fire burning between her legs and she kissed his chest, sliding her mouth over to his nipples and then down to his flat belly. She traced each rib with her tongue.

  Her clothes hurt her skin and she reached with one hand to tear her tank from her body, pull it over her head and throw it away from her.

  The itch rose, a terrible wave, but this time it was worse, igniting tiny flames in every nerve ending. Her sweats burned through her pores. "Get my sweats off. Oh, God. Hurry. You have to get them off."

  She heard the plea in her voice. She needed the material off of her, but she couldn't stop tasting his skin. He was an addiction now, one she couldn't give up, one she needed to survive.

  "Kitten." His voice was raw with need. "This isn't a good idea."

  She could barely hear him with her blood roaring in her ears. She moved lower, shoving at his sweats, her fist wrapping around his cock while she dipped her head lower to run her tongue over that velvety smooth head. The moment her lips touched him and she drew the taste of him into her mouth she needed more. Much more.

  One hand pushed at the material causing her actual pain, the other remained tight around his shaft, squeezing gently. His hand covered hers and he drew her hand up and then down, showing her without words what to do.

  "Okay, baby, okay. We've got this," he said softly, and his hands hooked into her sweat bottoms and pushed them off her body.

  She kicked to get them free of her legs and he tugged them away. The relief was tremendous, but the craving for him worsened. "I need this, right now. I need this. Tell me what to do."

  His hands shaped her bottom for a moment, sliding over her firm muscle and then he wrapped her hair in his hand. "Take me in your mouth, sweetheart. Use your tongue." His fist in her hair pushed her head down.

  Catarina obeyed him instantly, taking him into the scalding heat of her mouth. Eli nearly lost control right then. She didn't need to know what she was doing, her body instinctively did it for her. Her tongue slid over and under, she suckled, tightening the suction around him and then sliding her mouth up and down all the while working him with her tight fist.

  The breath slammed out of him. She was so hot she burned against him. He could feel his leopard roaring and leaping and his own body was so hard, the demand more urgent than he'd ever experienced. There was one fleeting thought to try to stop her, but that was gone in the fierce, raging fire licking at his body.

  "Please, please," she begged against his shaft, the soft words vibrating through the sensitive organ so that he threw his head back and with a low growl pulled her off of him.

  Before she could protest, he rolled her over and took savage possession of her mouth. His. She was his whether she liked it or not. There would be consequences to this, but he could no more stop himself than he could shoot himself. He kissed her hard, over and over, his tongue ruling her mouth.

  He dropped his hand to her breast to first cup the soft weight and then to roll her nipple between his finger and thumb, tugging aggressively. Her body arched and the breath hissed out of her. Instantly he covered her breast with his mouth, pulling soft flesh deep inside. She tasted like heaven. Her body felt like sin. Those lush, sweet curves every bit as soft and perfect as he suspected.

  He worked first one breast and then the other, using the edge of his teeth, the heat of his mouth and his fingers to drive her up fast. She sobbed against his shoulder, chanting the same little ragged plea.

  "Please, please, please."

  He moved down her body, kissing, nipping with his teeth, his hands going to her thighs to pull them apart. He could smell her beautiful, exotic scent of spice and honey calling to him and he wedged his shoulders between her thighs, draping her legs over him. He didn't give her a moment to recover. To breathe. He bent his head and plunged his tongue deep. She screamed.

  She was a furnace, burning hotter than anything he'd ever known. Her taste was addictive and he couldn't pull the honey out of her fast enough with his tongue. He held her still while he devoured her ravenously, forgetting everything but the need to feed that terrible, wild addiction growing in him. He knew he would never get enough. She would sate him for a short time, and he would have to go back again and again.

  He was good at sex. No, he was great at sex and he knew it. He might not be able to tie her to him any other way until her leopard emerged, but he could tie her this way. He drove her higher and then higher, his ruthless mouth demanding. She came hard, her voice hoarse from her sore throat.

  He didn't let her go back down but pushed her up again, suckling on her sensitive clit, stroking with his thumb, using his tongue to stab deep and draw out the spice and honey spilling out of her. It was wild. Primitive. Out of control. She came a second time, her hot channel spasming, her belly rippling. He felt it in her thighs.

  Ignoring her gasping pleas, he moved over top of her and pushed the head of his cock into that fiery inferno and then stopped.

  "Look at me, Cat."

  She kept her head turned away from his, her eyes shut tight. He waited. Patient while her body throbbed and burned around his. She licked her lips and he wanted to lick them too. Finally she gave him her wide, blue gaze.

  "You look at me. Don't turn your head. When I give you this, I want you to know who I am. You haven't once called me by my name, and you're fucking going to do it when I'm buried inside of you. Do you understand me
? If you want this, say you understand and use my fucking name when you do."

  He was nearly more leopard than human in that moment. Not his body, but his mind. This was his woman. His mate. She needed to submit to him. To know she belonged. Even if she couldn't wrap her head around the fact, her body needed to know.

  Her eyes begged him. He shook his head, gritting his teeth. She squirmed. Writhed. Tried to force him to impale her. He refused to move, although it cost him. Jackhammers tripped in his head. His blood pounded with need. He felt savage. Half angry, half desperate.

  "Fucking say my name and tell me you understand what I'm saying to you."

  "God. Okay. Eli. Just please do something."

  "You're mine. You know that now, right? Mine. No one else ever gets inside your body. Or your mouth. That belongs to me. You belong to me."

  She pressed her lips together against another sob. He couldn't take the scorching fire beckoning his cock. He surged in hard and deep, driving past the thin barrier of her innocence so she cried out at the shocking bite of pain, arching her hips upward and closing her eyes.

  He stilled, watched her face, waited for her eyes to come back to him. Her lashes lifted and he saw himself reflected there. The lines carved deep, the stamp of near brutality, of ruthless savagery. He was leopard all right, but that didn't mean he wouldn't make it good for her. Perfect for her.

  He began to move inside of her, pushing through her tight, scorching folds, that fiery inferno that he knew he would always crave. The entire time he watched her face. Watched the tension coiling in her. Watched the beauty of helpless need. He loved the way her breath was so ragged and the way her eyes glazed. Her lips parted, and beneath him her body rose to match the rhythm of his.

  He took her with hard, pounding strokes, going as deep as possible, burying himself to the very root, bumping her cervix, wanting to go so deep he would lodge in her belly. He took her up again, loving the way her head tossed on the pillow and her hair spilled around her like living, breathing silk.

  He was relentless, refusing to let her go over the edge again, taking her higher and higher until he saw alarm spread and she clutched at his shoulders, her nails biting deep.

  "Ask for it, Kitten. Say my name and ask me for it." She had to know it was Eli Perez, not some mythical Ridley Cromer or a bastard like Rafe Cordeau.

  Eli was there with her, not either of them. And she was his. She would always be his, because already he could see he'd set up the craving, that terrible addiction he knew came with being a leopard.

  For a moment she tried to hold out, but fear skittered down her spine. He could read it in her wild blue gaze. Staring into her eyes, he slipped his thumb into her and pressed against her clit. She gasped. He removed his thumb and tipped her hips to give him the perfect angle so that the friction was on that sweet little button.

  "Eli. I need this."

  "From me," he prompted.

  She nodded her head, then thrashed again. Desperate. Hot. Needy. Scared. "From you. From Eli."

  He slammed home, taking her with him on the crazy, wild ride. He felt her body tighten to the point of strangulation but he didn't stop driving into her. She screamed. Her body nearly seized and then the orgasm tore through her hard and fast and mean, a powerful quake that persisted when he was swept along with her. The splash of his seed hot and strong gave her an additional powerful quake.

  He buried his face in her neck as the ripples continued and he stayed inside her, riding them out with her. Her breasts felt soft and right against his hard chest. Her body was small, but fit perfectly. He'd been brutal in his possession of her and she was going to be sore. He needed to attend to her, and she was going to be embarrassed and angry when she came down from the high.

  He lifted his head and pressed his mouth to the corner of hers. "Are you okay?"

  She took a breath and curled her fingers in his hair, looking confused. Her gaze started to slide from his but he caught her chin.

  "No, Kitten. We're past that. We're moving forward, and you're not going to be embarrassed at what we did together."

  "I don't even like you," she whispered. "I don't even know you and I was all over you. This isn't even your fault. It's mine. I did this. I couldn't stop myself."

  He smoothed back her hair, stroking little soothing caresses over her scalp. "It's going to be all right."

  "It isn't though. I used you. I didn't even try to control myself. The burning was terrible. My skin hurt, everything hurt. I didn't think about you, only myself and some way to try to stop it."

  She sounded close to tears. He brushed kisses on each eyelid and then trailed more to the corner of her mouth. He still felt her tight sheath surrounding him. He should have been empty. Finished. But he was still hard. All that scorching fire and that honey and spice. But she was done. She needed care. Time to come to terms with what happened between them.

  "This isn't your fault, Catarina. It just is. We're shifters. We didn't ask to be shifters, and this comes with the territory. I know you're afraid of her. Your leopard, but you don't have to be . . ."

  "Are you kidding? I would never have attacked you in a million years. She did that. She made me into a slut."

  His hands tightened on her and he gave her a little shake. "Don't you ever call yourself that, Cat. She didn't make you anything but what you're supposed to be. My mate. She recognized my leopard and mine recognized yours. It's that simple. She'll give you a freedom you've never had, one that no one can take from you. When you run in that form, there's nothing like it on earth, except this. What we have together."

  He forced himself to roll off of her. The moment he was out of her body, he felt alone again, an ache instantly, a need to be connected physically to her. It was all he had with her and he knew it. Having sex, even great sex with her, didn't mean their problems were solved. He'd betrayed her and that betrayal had gone deep.

  "I'm going to run you a bath. If you don't soak in hot water, you'll be sore." She was going to be sore anyway. Leopard sex was savage at best. Brutal most of the time. His leopard clawed and raked for his mate. She wasn't ready, but that didn't stop the fierce cat from driving Eli to cement the relationship. Who was he kidding? He was a rough man and he liked sex hard and wild.

  He pulled up his sweats and padded across the room to the master bath. He left the door open, keeping his eye on her while he ran the water as hot as he thought she could stand. She didn't speak, but he felt her eyes on him.

  "What is it, baby?" he asked as gently as possible.

  She looked upset, and he didn't blame her. She was dealing with too many things at once.

  "Why? Why did you use me like that?"

  For a moment he thought she was talking about sex, but when he looked at the expression on her face, the raw hurt there, he knew what she meant. Her question was a potential bomb. How could he answer that without her feeling even more betrayed? He had betrayed her.

  Eli was acutely aware of what she'd said about making the choice between Cordeau and him. She wanted honesty. She even deserved honesty. He sat on the edge of the tub and kept his eyes on her face even while one hand trailed in the water to make certain it wasn't too hot for her.

  "Looking the way I do, Cat, rough and mean, gives me a certain edge in the kind of work I do. Being a leopard helps me to have a better than average rate for arresting and prosecuting very bad men. What I'm saying is, I go undercover a lot. I live undercover for months at a time. Most of it is bad. Most of it sucks. You live in the dirt long enough, baby, and it rubs off on you."

  "But you believe in what you do." She propped herself up on one elbow, watching him just as closely as he was watching her.

  He was surprised at that insight. More, he was surprised at her interest. He felt his way carefully, afraid they were doing a little dance and he didn't yet know the steps. Still, he wasn't going to lie to her. Not again. She asked him a question, and she was going to get an answer whether or not she wanted to hear it--or he wanted to gi
ve her one.

  "It's what I dedicated my life to. My parents were murdered because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. They'd gone to visit old friends, took a wrong turn and got caught in the middle of a drug deal gone bad. I was just a kid, but I guess that was what first made me decide I wanted to get into law enforcement."

  She had pulled up the sheet but it barely covered her breasts. He could see the pale curve of the swell and there were a few marks there. His marks. Had she not been a virgin he would have said the hell with the bath and pounded into her all over again. His cock jerked at the thought of teaching her the things he liked. At the thought of doing the things to her body that she was going to like.

  "So is part of your job seducing women?"

  Shit. Fuck. Son of a bitch. How the hell was he going to answer that? "I didn't seduce you, Cat. I was very, very careful to keep my hands off you, and it wasn't easy. Right from the beginning I knew you were different. You got under my skin. I wasn't going to go there with you. Not you."

  She caught her lower lip between her teeth, instantly drawing his gaze, reminding him he wanted to bite her lower lip himself. She was beautiful, bruises and all. Even with dark shadows beneath her eyes and suspicion and hurt in all that wild blue.

  "So the answer is yes, you do or have seduced other women as part of your job."

  He nodded slowly. "Unfortunately yes. It isn't a part of the job I enjoy, but sometimes it's the only way inside an organization I'm penetrating, or the only way I can get information."

  "What makes you different from a prostitute? She trades sex for money, you trade sex for information."

  He winced and reached out to turn off the taps. "I never looked at it like that. It's never comfortable, Catarina, and I'm not particularly proud of it, but I wormed my way into a human trafficking ring by sleeping with a fucking bitch who acquired young girls. I shut that shit down. Am I sorry I slept with the skank? Do I wish I didn't have to do it? Hell yeah. But I closed it down and a hell of a lot of young girls were rescued and more saved from being forced into that kind of life."

  He worked at keeping the edge out of his voice, but he didn't like having to justify himself and his choices. He stalked across the room and yanked the covers back, exposing her naked body. For the first time he was able to really look at her body. The evidence of his possession was on her thighs, along with trickles of blood.