“Eli.” For a moment fear skittered through her eyes. Fear and excitement. “What are you doing?”

He cuffed her and then hooked the cuffs to the headboard. “What does it look like, baby? I want you at my mercy.”

“I’m always at your mercy.” She pulled a little on her arms. “I’m not certain I like this. I feel…” She trailed off when he moved down her body.

“Vulnerable? Helpless?” He used his hands to pull her thighs apart, wedging his body between them, spreading her open. “That’s how I want you to feel. Vulnerable. Mine. Your body is mine. I like it that way and I’m going to make certain you like it that way too.” While he explained, he drew his T-shirt over his head and tossed it aside.

His eyes on hers, he removed his shoes. “I want to spend time with you tonight. My way.”

She pulled again on the cuffs, her breasts heaving, swaying invitingly. He liked looking at her there, spread out on his bed, completely defenseless and exposed to him. Her nipples were taut pebbles, hard and erect, and her breath came in little ragged gasps.

“It’s always your way, Eli,” she whispered, her head tossing a little. “But I don’t know about this.”

His hand slid down her belly to her mound. Two fingers slipped inside her hot tunnel. She was wet and slick. He withdrew them, held them up for her to see. “Yeah, Kitten, you like this.” He licked his fingers, enjoying her taste, knowing there was so much more for him.

All the time he watched her eyes. She had beautiful eyes, very expressive and she was getting hotter by the minute. She might be a little nervous, but it added to the climbing heat in her.

“What are you going to do?”

“Anything I want, but I’ll make certain you enjoy it. I’ve always wondered how many times I could make you come. We’ve got all night.” He slipped his jeans from his body, his cock hard and erect.

Her gaze dropped to the heavy erection, her breath catching in her throat. He didn’t blame her. He was long and thick and he looked far too big for her little body. But he fit perfectly. She was made for him. He craved her tight, scorching-hot tunnel and the way she grasped at him so greedily with her silken muscles.

“Eli.” Just his name.

“It was ‘baby’ earlier. Now suddenly I’m Eli again. I wonder what it’s going to take to get you to call out that little endearment.” He stretched out, his shoulders spreading her thighs even wider. His hands held her open to him. “Such a beautiful little flower, and all mine. It is mine, isn’t it, Catarina? This is all mine.”

His tone demanded an answer and he waited, blowing warm air over her slick entrance. There was a moment of silence. He didn’t look at her. He looked at the feast he was about to devour instead. But he waited.

“Yes.” Her voice was so low he barely caught the sound, even with his acute hearing.

“No man has ever touched this. Tasted it. It’s all for me. Every damn inch of you. All for me. Isn’t that right, baby? This is all mine.”

He lowered his head and took one delicious swipe with his tongue, dragging out the honey he craved. He stopped instantly, letting it dissolve in his mouth while he waited for her reply.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

She hesitated again, and he took another sample. Her body shuddered with pleasure and he blew more warm air over her. Waiting. He let her know he was waiting but he didn’t look away from his prize.

“Yes, that’s all yours. I’m all yours. Every inch of me.”

“Belongs to me. Your golden mouth. Such perfect breasts. An ass that can bring men to their knees. And this beautiful, perfect flower. Belongs to me.”

He didn’t allow for much movement, but she managed a little. Her hips bucked again. Her legs moved restlessly.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Eli.”

She was drenched. He wanted that. Even needed it. Her scent called to him, and the craving grew beyond anything he’d known yet.

“I’m addicted to this taste, Kitten,” he admitted. “I think I could eat you all night and never get enough. This time, you want my cock in you, I expect I’ll be holding out for something from you. Something I need from you.”

“What?” She gasped the word. “Eli, tell me what.”

“You figure it out, Cat. Maybe after you’ve given me ten or fifteen orgasms, you’ll figure it out.”

He didn’t wait. He couldn’t. Not even for the pleasure of torturing her slowly, knowing every moment he had her spread open, every word out of his mouth was only making her hotter. Only causing the tension to wind tighter and tighter in her.

He needed. And he needed now. His mouth clamped over her slick, hot entrance and he plunged his tongue deep. She cried out, tried to move, but his arms pinned her down, refusing to allow her to wiggle away or even toward him. This was his. This was for him. He was taking what belonged to him. What she gave him.

He used his tongue ruthlessly, devouring her ravenously just like he said he would. She tasted better than he remembered. Hotter. Sweeter. Spicier. He ate her like he was dying for her taste, because he was. He’d had the taste of her in his mouth from the moment he’d heard her laughter in the kitchen with Emma.

He heard her ragged breathing, the desperate little mewling cries as he ate her. He loved her cries, music to his ears. He loved her body, and it belonged to him. He loved that the more he took from her, the more golden cream spilled out.