She caught at his head, arching her back like a cat, holding him to her while her cries filled the air. She moaned and writhed, cradling his head to her while he fed on her breasts. He used the edge of his teeth to scrape her nipples and nip the soft sweet curves. He used his tongue ruthlessly, flat and broad and then long, slow licks easing every ache before suckling strong enough to elicit gasps and cries.

She was ultrasensitive to the touch of his hands and mouth, her skin burning against his. She radiated heat and he caught fire. One leg wound around his hip and she pressed her sex against his thigh and ground down, frantic for relief. Her hips bucked against him, a sob choked her throat as she writhed in his arms. It was the hottest, sexiest thing he’d ever witnessed. She was like a living flame, unable to contain, unable to put out the burning heat.

Catarina was on fire. Every cell was inflamed and deep inside, she burned so hot she thought she might die. Her body didn’t feel as if it belonged to her at all. Every inch of her was so sensitive she hurt. She was desperate for Eli’s body against hers, yet even that seemed to make her ache more. Her skin was just too tight. Her joints ached. Her hair was too heavy for her head and her skull felt as if it might explode.

The absolute worst was the terrible heat burning through her like a firestorm. She couldn’t breathe with wanting Eli. Her mind was in chaos, the need so terrible she thought she might go insane. She couldn’t stop the undulations of her body, or the need to press over his thigh and grind down hard. Her hands were everywhere, touching him, fingers spread wide to take in as much of him as possible. Her mouth moved over his chest, his belly, along his rib cage. She couldn’t get enough of touching him.

The beat of her heart was insane. She felt the throb between her legs, pounding urgently, a feral, primal drumbeat of relentless hunger. She couldn’t stop herself, licking at his skin, reaching for him with desperation.

“Do something, Eli,” she pleaded, so insane for him even her voice wasn’t her own. “I need you touching me. Your mouth. Your fingers. I need you filling me. Take it away. You have to make it stop.”

“I’ve got you, Kitten,” Eli assured her, jerking her chin up so he could take her mouth again.

He was addicted to the taste of her, the way all that honey poured down his throat and invaded every organ of his body. The mixture of honeysuckle and pheromones spread through his system like wildfire until she was branded on his tongue, down his lungs and in his very bones.