She hissed again. He lowered his head, holding her in an unbreakable grip, his strength enormous. He lapped at the side of her neck, in a slow, languorous display of ownership, sending shivers through her entire body. Tongues of flames licked over her skin. His teeth scraped along her neck, down her throat and then his lips pressed against her ear.

“The female leopard always rebuffs her mate, giving him a show of claws, hissing and spitting like the little cat you are. All the while she’s seductive, driving her mate into a frenzy of hunger even as she pushes him away. Her body calls to his. Like yours does to mine. Do you know why, Hafelina?”

She went very still, sensing danger. Absolute danger. His teeth slid down her neck, nuzzled at her shoulder. “Because you belong to me.”

His teeth sank deep into the back of her neck, the pain and pleasure of it seared her heart, sizzled through her veins and scorched her most feminine core. Her womb spasmed, and clenched. Damp heat gathered between her legs. She couldn’t stop herself from rubbing against him, almost desperate for relief. His knee came up between her legs, driving into her clenching heat. Sparks burst behind her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat and every muscle in her body tightened. She nearly sobbed with the pleasure crashing through her body.

It was humiliating, but she couldn’t stop the way she moved against him, frantic now, every nerve ending raw. He growled a soft warning when she struggled. His mouth moved over her neck, his tongue swirling over the stinging bite, sending waves of scorching heat through her overloaded system.

“I’m your mate, Isabeau. Now. Always. There is nothing else. You belong to me and I belong to you. You don’t have to like it, but you can’t deny it. Your body knows it. Your cat knows. Fight me all you want, but you know it as well.”

She hated the knowledge in his eyes when she looked over her shoulder, into his heavy-lidded stare. He looked so sensual. So male. So intense. He looked at her as if he knew no one else would ever satisfy her. No one else could hold her so still, so hypnotized, his thigh rubbing over and into her, sending waves of pulsing need crashing through her. His hold was possessive. He rubbed his face over her neck, her shoulder, her hair, almost as if he was leaving his scent all over her. Claiming her. Warning off all other males.

Muscles bunched in her stomach, arousal teased her thighs and breasts, her breath turned ragged. A sob escaped. His body was full and heavy, pressing tightly with urgent demand against the small of her back. His scent filled her lungs. He was everywhere and her skin felt too tight, her clothes hurt.

Keeping her arms pinned with one arm wrapped tightly around her, his fist bunched in her hair and he dragged her head back. She looked into his golden eyes, dark now with heat. Intense hunger. So much possession. She watched his mouth come down toward hers and she should have moved—should have fought him—but her breath left her lungs in a rush and she was lost in her own need. His mouth was hard and demanding, a crush of command, a taking, a branding and she tasted lust, tasted sin and sex. She tasted him.

She’d forgotten that addicting taste. Her mouth opened to him and she indulged her need, feeding there, feeling taken when all he was doing was kissing her, over and over, his lips rough, his mouth hot, his tongue stroking caresses into a fire that threatened to consume her. She heard her own strangled whimper, a sound of intense need escaping before she could think to prevent it.

She could no longer think clearly, her brain fogging over, her skull too tight, the throbbing beat of hunger like a jackhammer in her head. Her breasts ached, nipples hard and straining against the thin material of her bra. She couldn’t stop rubbing against him, needing the hard pressure of his thigh to relieve the terrible ache that wouldn’t stop, yet knowing it wouldn’t be enough until he filled her completely. His mouth moved on her shoulder—a burning brand and he whispered low and sexy in her ear.

“Stop fighting it, Sestrilla, let it happen.”

His voice, that sexy, velvet whisper of sin triggered the drenching orgasm that flashed through her body like a firestorm. She writhed in utter shame, as her heart slammed too hard in her chest and the waves of heat rippled and pulsed through her.

He knew. He knew what he did to her, she could hear it in the humming satisfaction rumbling in his chest, the purr emanating from his throat. Tears burned behind her eyes. She hated her lack of control, the raw need that tormented her in his presence. He should have been the last person whose touch she needed, yet here she was, a few hours in his company, allowing his touch—craving his touch.

How did she wrench her soul free from him? Take her heart back? Stop her body’s response? He’d left her empty. Broken. He was a terrible obsession she couldn’t get over, no matter how hard she fought. She had no idea how to stop the deadly hunger every time she looked at him. His voice alone triggered it. She was caught in his trap, in the illusion he wove and she couldn’t break free.

He’d leave her again. He’d come to the rain forest to seduce a woman. She’d brought him to the rain forest to seduce another woman. And he’d taken the job until he knew she was the client. What was wrong with her? Where the hell was her cat now? The treacherous animal coming close to the surface, revealing her heat, her hunger and then deserting when Isabeau needed her claws and strength the most. She felt limp. Shattered. Humiliated. She was no match for a man like Conner Vega. She wasn’t even in his league.

“Let go.” Her voice shook, but she got the words out. Her body shuddered with illicit pleasure even as it began cooling rapidly after the terrible burning need that had raged. She was left drained and sated and confused.