“Because you were saving it to send back to Cordeau. I know you were. You didn’t have to tell me, but you had start money and that had to come from him. You would never be okay with stealing, and you weren’t using the money even for gas, so it had to be money to pay him back with. He’d been there and he was coming back. When you left that place I didn’t want you to owe him a damn thing.”

She laid her head against his chest and slipped her arms around his waist. “I don’t know what to do with you when you’re like this, Eli.”

“You like it then?” he prompted gently.

“You know I love it. How could I not? A laptop in an unopened box? My boots. I love the boots. They’re perfect. I hear what you’re saying, Eli, and I’m telling you I don’t know what to do with this kind of sweetness. I trust you, you know. You aren’t Rafe. I wouldn’t think you’d rig my computer to see what I’m up to.”

“I want you to be confident in that, Cat, never to wonder. I know I’m like him in some ways and that has to make you think twice about a relationship with me.”

Her gaze jumped to his. She shook her head. “You aren’t, you know.”

“I made you stay with me, Catarina. Just as if you were a prisoner.”

A slow smile brought a curve to her soft mouth. “Is that what you think? That I had no choice in all this? I weighed every option carefully, Eli. If you weren’t my choice, I’d be scheming and planning to escape, no matter what you said or did. I wouldn’t snuggle close to you at night, or want to cook for you. I gave myself to you because of who and what you are. Because of how I feel about you. Don’t you know that yet?”

He brought his mouth down on hers, hungry for her. Ravenous. He was addicted to the taste of her. To her warmth. To the way her body melted into his and her arms slid around his neck to hold him closer. He kissed her over and over, long, hot kisses that took her breath so he had to breathe for both of them. Still, it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. More of everything.

With a soft groan he broke contact with her mouth. Her eyes were dazed, her lips swollen and inviting, and she moved against him restlessly. He loved her hair all over the place, looking as if they’d already had wild sex.

Normally he would have taken her right there on the floor, or on the desk, but he wanted a long night with her. He picked her up, cradling her close to him as he took them on through to the master bedroom.

Eli put her down right beside the bed. “Get your clothes off, baby. Hurry.”

Her eyebrows shot up and her mouth tilted at the corners. Her hands went to the buttons of her blouse, but she didn’t move fast. Instead she cocked her head to one side so that the long sweep of hair slid over her shoulder. “Hurry? You want me to take off my clothes fast?”

He growled at the playful, teasing note in her voice, stalked back across the room and caught the front of her blouse.

“No,” she said.

It was too late. He stripped the blouse right off of her, reached around her to the closures of her bra and removed that as well, spilling her breasts into his hands. His head descended immediately, and he pulled a soft mound into the heat of his mouth.

She cried out, her arms immediately cradling his head to her while he suckled. While he used the flat of his tongue and the edge of his teeth. He was growing wild and he didn’t care. He needed this. Needed her. Needed the sweet, spicy honey spilling from her body. He was already reeling out of control, but she was his woman, and his woman always was able to handle it when his hunger overcame him.

“I liked that blouse,” she murmured, but her hands were in his hair, fingers curling through the longish ends at the nape of his neck.

He lifted his head just enough to look at her in warning. He knew his eyes were glowing, showing the cat in him. The feral cat. A leopard on the brink of wild and dangerous. “I’ll buy you another one. Kick off your shoes.” He growled out the command and went back to devouring her breasts.

His fingers tugged and rolled at her nipple, rough, hard, so that she squirmed and whimpered. He kept at it, scenting her call, inhaling the need in her that only fed his hunger more. She was obedient, removing the small flats that had been part of the bundle of clothing Emma had sent over, clothing that allowed for fast removal when she needed to shift – or her lover demanded she rid herself of clothes quickly.

She panted against his shoulder, dropping her head there, her hips moving restlessly against his body. He pushed his engorged cock tight against her, and once again lifted his head.

“Get rid of the jeans. I need them off you right now. From now on, I think you’ll have to wear long skirts. Or short ones. No panties.”

Her hands dropped instantly to the waistband of her jeans and she quickly unsnapped them and lowered the zipper. “I have to wear panties, you crazy man.”

He used his teeth again, nipping along the underside of her breast, and then over the smooth curve, his tongue easing the ache. He wanted his mark on her. He loved that. Loved to see his prints on her skin.

“Why? I see no reason at all for panties,” he replied, half serious.

She pushed the denim over her hips and he let her go to yank them down. The moment she stepped out of them, he caught her around the waist and tossed her onto the bed. She hit the mattress, her arms and legs sprawling out. He didn’t wait for her to recover, but went down over top of her, straddling her hips, still fully clothed. Catching her wrists, he stretched her arms above her head and pinned them to the mattress. Leaning over, he opened the drawer next to his bed and withdrew his handcuffs.