Cat's Lair Page 82


Her heart actually hurt, a physical pain. She couldn’t say it back because she didn’t honestly know what she felt. She was still afraid of him – of them. No, that wasn’t the truth. She was afraid of herself. She didn’t understand relationships and she was leery of committing her heart and soul too far. She’d just opened herself up to him when he’d betrayed her and that had hurt so bad. If she allowed herself to really feel everything for him, the way she wanted her relationship to be, that intense, that strong, and she lost him, she would be totally destroyed. She was too fragile.

“Thank you for telling me, Eli,” she whispered. “I want us to work. I don’t want our relationship to be just about our leopards or the sex.” She didn’t even know if that was the truth. Part of her wanted to keep it simple. The leopards. Sex. That wouldn’t hurt so much if she lost it. But the biggest part of her wanted the fairy tale. She wanted what Eli was holding out to her. She just didn’t know if she was brave enough to grab on with both hands.

“Let’s get you inside before it gets any colder.”

“I don’t feel cold.” She liked being snuggled so tight in his arms. It felt intimate.

“I know, but I still have a few things I’d like to do this evening and it’s late. We have to work out tomorrow. I know I’m pushing you, Kitten, but if we’re going to be ready for Cordeau, then it’s necessary to condition and keep learning how to defend yourself. You still think of him as an invincible monster. I don’t want you to freeze when the time comes. If self-defense is ingrained in you, if it’s an automatic reflex, you’ll have a chance to get away from him if he ever gets his hands on you.”

A little shudder went through her body at the thought of Rafe finding her. Finding them. Rafe would want to kill Eli. She was beginning to believe killing Eli would prove to be much more difficult than she first thought. Living with him made it impossible not to see the danger that surrounded him. He was every bit as lethal as Rafe, only in a different way.

She had equated his gentleness with her as a weakness. She was learning Eli didn’t have a weakness – unless it was her. He’d made himself vulnerable by telling her he loved her. She hadn’t expected that and her eyes burned. There was a lump in her throat threatening to choke her at the sound of his soft voice whispering to her. Telling her things she knew he’d never told anyone else.

“I guess I do think of Rafe that way. He’s so big in my mind. So scary. His word is law.” She pulled away just enough to tip her head up and look at him. “Kind of the way you expect your word to be law.”

He grinned at her, getting that she was teasing him. “I like that you’re not afraid to spar a little with me, baby,” he said. “Everyone else is terrified to give me a hard time or argue with me. You’re getting there.”

“I wouldn’t want you to think you’re going to get your way in all things,” she said. That wasn’t entirely true. She wanted to make him happy. She didn’t know why it was important to her, but she wanted to be the one that kept the soft look on his face.

His grin widened. “I’ll get my way, Kitten. You can count on that. But I’ll make certain you’re enjoying yourself when I do.”

She blushed. The heat inside her body seemed to grow until she thought her skin might be glowing. Or maybe she was glowing because he’d told her he loved her.

Eli laughed softly and stood up with her in his arms. She felt his muscles ripple but the move was fluid and effortless. He walked back inside without even breathing hard, as if her weight was nothing whatsoever to him. He carried her through the house, not turning on any lights, but then he rarely did at night. He had excellent night vision and she did as well.

Her heart began to pound when they entered the bedroom. There was something very purposeful in the way he walked. He tossed her onto the mattress, onto her back. She landed right in the middle, sprawled out. He stood over her, tall and broad-shouldered, his features a mask of sensuality. He took her breath away. She knew that expression. His eyes had gone to liquid gold, the gold spreading until it nearly covered the surface of his eyes.

“Put your hands above your head, baby,” he instructed. “Grip the headboard for me.” His voice had gone rough. Husky. Low. Commanding.

Instantly, heat flooded her body. Just his voice. That was all it took. Adding in his eyes and the way his body came alive, she was lost. She slowly complied, not taking her gaze from his face. She loved the way he looked, the implacable single-minded focus in his expression, the heat and lust building in his eyes. She recognized the third emotion – love – mixed with the hunger there. Her hands gripped the thick dowels above her head. She had to stretch her arms out all the way to comply.

“That’s my woman. I love how you look right now. Open your legs wide for me. Are you already wet? Do you know what I need right now?”

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. Her heart began to pound. She felt the answering pulse in her hot, wet channel. “I’m already wet,” she admitted.

He knelt between her legs and, still holding her gaze, slipped a finger into her. Instantly her greedy body grasped at him and tried to pull him deeper.

“I like that you get wet for me. So slick and hot. All that honey. I dream about the way you taste. Sometimes it wakes me up. I want to let you sleep. You’re all curled up beside me like a sleepy kitten, and I hate to disturb you, but I can’t go back to sleep thinking about devouring you. Sometimes I just want to eat you up, baby. Never stop. See how much honey I can harvest before you go up in flames.”

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