His surrender. She heard it in his voice. She felt it in the way his hands stroked and caressed her body. The way his cock swelled inside of her, hot and hard, filling her with . . . him.

She closed her eyes and gave herself to him, surrendering everything. The tidal wave ripped through her with hurricane force, sweeping both of them over the edge of sanity for just a few moments, throwing them into subspace where she floated, unafraid, in pure bliss, anchored to him—to Eli.

He collapsed over top of her, pressing his lips to the nape of her neck. “You’re going to lead me on such a dance, Kitten.”

“I’m going to love you so much, honey, you won’t care,” she whispered back.

His arms circled her waist, holding her to him. “I already love you so much I don’t care,” he admitted.

She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “Strip naked and dance on the table? Really?” She laughed softly.

He grinned at her. “It was worth a try.”

“Well. I might consider it for your birthday,” she said. “Let me up. I still need my shower.”

“Make me coffee first. Mine never tastes as good as yours.” Eli didn’t move.

She pushed back against him just to feel more delicious aftershocks. “I’m covered in oil. I think a shower is more important than your coffee.” She was going to make his coffee because she enjoyed making it for him. He was usually grumpy in the mornings until she put that cup in his hands and he took his first sip. Then he looked at her as if she was the most wonderful, perfect woman who’d ever been born. She wasn’t passing that up, not even to shower first.

“Then we’ll just have to stay right here, locked together,” he murmured against her spine. “Because I can’t move without coffee.”

Catarina burst out laughing at his grumpy tone. “You’re such a baby, Eli.”

He heard the capitulation in her voice. “You’re going to make my coffee, aren’t you, Kitten?”

“I shouldn’t. Not after you smacked me on the butt.”

He rubbed her left cheek with gentle strokes. “I didn’t hurt you.”

“If you’d hurt me, Eli, I would have let loose my leopard and you’d be ripped up a bit,” Catarina assured.

“That’s good, Cat, that’s what I want from you. Stand up to me when I get too mean.” He eased out of her and once again bent to kiss the base of her spine.

She wasn’t going to tell him that when he was mean, his cat was involved, and that might not be the very best time to defy him. Male leopards definitely insisted on dominance with their females. She was figuring it out slowly, but she was getting it, just as Emma had assured her she would.