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‘No playing,gatita,’ he murmured, his rich voice dark and thick with heat. ‘Like I said, my patience is limited.’
‘I want to touch you, though.’ She closed her fingers around him, marvelling at how hard he was and yet how soft and smooth his skin felt. ‘You’re so hard...’ She squeezed experimentally.
He hissed, and then suddenly everything was moving very quickly. He pulled her hand away and pushed her down on her back, his long, muscular body settling over hers. She protested, but he shook his head, the smile he gave her sharp and edged.
‘You can touch me later. Seems I have limited patience where you are concerned.’
She liked that. Liked the way her touch could incite him the way his could incite her.
She wanted to help him with the protection, too, but he gave a sharp shake of his head, dealing with it himself. And then his hands were sliding beneath her bottom, gripping her tight and lifting her, and he was positioning himself so he was pressing gently at her entrance.
‘Are you ready for me?’
His jaw was set and hard, every muscle in his body drawn tight and ready. All that strength and power was held back, and not without effort. But it was definitely held back. For her.
‘Answer me. I’m not made of stone.’
What a lie. Hewasmade of stone. Not bronze after all, but hard, living rock that she couldn’t stop touching. Enduring and powerful. She could shelter beneath him right here and nothing would touch her.
The feeling was so intense she put her hands on his chest and spread out her fingers, stroking up over all that hard muscle to his strong shoulders. Holding on.
‘I’m ready,’ she whispered.
And he didn’t hesitate, his fingers tightening as he pushed into her. She gasped as she felt her flesh part for him, in an intense yet delicious stretch, and tensed, ready for pain, because this was supposed to hurt. Yet apart from a slight pinch there was nothing. Only more of that sensual stretch that had her panting and twisting in his arms as she tried to adjust to the sensation.
‘Look at me,’ he ordered. ‘Look at me, Leonie.’
So she did, staring straight up into his eyes, and suddenly everything clicked into place. She was made for him. Her body was made especially for him—for his hands and his mouth, for the hard, male part of him, and he was where he was supposed to be. He might be holding her, but she was also holding him.
‘Cristiano...’ She lingered over the sound of it, loving how it felt to say it. Loving, too, the way his eyes flared as she said it. So she said it again, digging her nails into his skin, lifting her hips, because she was ready for him to move. Ready for him to take her on another journey.
‘Demanding,gatita,’ he growled. ‘You are perfect.’
Then he covered her mouth in a kiss so hot and blinding she trembled and he began to move, the long, lazy glide of him inside her making more of that intense, delicious pleasure sweep over her.
She tried to press herself harder against him, because it wasn’t quite enough and she didn’t know how to get more, and then he reached down and hooked one hand behind her knee, drawing her leg up and around his hip, allowing him to sink deeper, and she moaned in delight against his mouth.
He felt so good. The glide of his hips, the silk of his skin, the flex and release of all those powerful muscles as he thrust in and out. The warm spice of his scent was cut through with the musk of his arousal. It was delicious.
She sank her teeth into his lower lip, hardly aware of what she was doing, only knowing she wanted even more of him and this insanely pleasurable movement. He growled in response—a deep rumble in his chest that sent chills through her.
Yes, she wanted the panther. The raw untamed part of him, not the lazy, civilised man he was on the outside. Not the smokescreen. Did anyone else know he was this way? Was he like this when he made love to other women?
She didn’t like that thought—not at all. She wanted him to be like this with her and only her.
She bit him again, scratching him with her nails, thrilled when he grabbed her hands and held them down on either side of her head.
He lifted his mouth from hers and looked into her eyes as he thrust hard and deep. ‘You like showing me your claws, don’t you?’ He sounded breathless. ‘What’s that all about, hmm...?’
‘You’re not the only one who’s bad.’ She put a growl of her own into her voice as she pulled her hands away, running her nails down his back in a long scratch, lifting her hips to meet his thrust. ‘You’re not the one who’s dangerous.’
‘Is that so?’ He thrust harder, pushing deeper, making her gasp and arch her back, her nails digging in. ‘Show me how bad you are, then,leona. Show me your teeth.’
Pleasure twisted inside her and she turned her head, bit his shoulder, tasting the salt and musk of his skin, loving how he gave another growl deep in his throat and moved faster.
She clung to him, licking him, biting him, scratching him as pleasure drew so tight that she didn’t think she could bear it. She called his name desperately and he answered, shifting one hand down between them and stroking her where she needed it most. And then she had to turn her face against his neck as everything came apart inside her. Tears flooded her eyes and she was sobbing his name as ecstasy annihilated her.
She had a dim sense of him moving faster, harder, and then she heard his own roar of release, felt his arms coming around her and holding her, his big, hot body over her and around her, inside her.
