His leopard felt every bit as mean as he did, not willing to give an inch on this issue. They both could have lost the one they needed beyond all others. Rafe Cordeau could destroy them, not just their lives, but Eli and his leopard. Just thinking about the possibility had Eli snarling all over again. Heat banded, coloring his vision, streaking it with reds and yellows. He made a halfhearted attempt to push the leopard down as he bent his head to his feast once again.

As his tongue plunged, he brought his hands up to her breasts, soft, full mounds, tugging mercilessly on her nipples. Pinching and rolling, deliberately rough. She thrashed wildly. Begged. He felt her body tense. Immediately he lifted his head, looking at his prize sprawled out so prettily for him. He removed her legs from his shoulders gently, held her open to him, opened his jeans to release his throbbing cock and positioned the head right at her entrance.

He took a moment to enjoy the sight of her, the anticipation, knowing the burn would come and she’d be even higher, needing him more. He slammed home, burying himself to his very balls. Flames streaked up his body, and she screamed, clutching the edges of the table until her knuckles turned white.

“Look at me,” he demanded, slowly pulling back. “Right now, give me your eyes. I want to see you.” He waited until she complied. She was dazed and half out of her mind with need—need for him. “Did you really think I’d let you off this easily?”

He pulled out of her and she cried out. Moaned. Shook her head back and forth, her hips trying to follow, to catch him and force him back into her. He straddled her instead, grateful that when he’d bought the table, he’d made certain it was thick and sturdy. She was naked, bare to him, and he was still clothed, his jean-clad thighs pressing around her hips.

Her gaze clung to his and fear skittered there. Not of him. Of the pleasure he was forcing on her. Forcing her to take his way. Forcing her to accept anything he wanted to give her. To do to her. Both knew all she had to do was say stop, but she wouldn’t. She was beyond that. She needed whatever he was giving her just as desperately as he needed to give it to her.

His hands caught those soft breasts, so full. So tempting. He bent his head and took possession, claiming her body for his own. He didn’t need to, she was already his. She wanted to be his. He was rough, his teeth and tongue and mouth suckling at her skated right along that edge of pain, but the wildfire was already so far out of control, that every powerful pull of his mouth on her nipples and breasts sent shock waves through her body.