She screamed again and clutched at him, her nails driving into his arms. He let go of his control and took her the way he’d needed to these past couple of weeks. Hard. Hungry. Primitive. He claimed her body for his own. He was rougher than he intended, but she liked rough, and the harder and deeper he drove into her, the more of herself she gave him. Hot liquid surrounded him, her sheath so tight and exquisite he knew he was going to burn in hell or heaven. It didn’t matter which to him, only that he burned.

He felt the flames licking along his legs, scorching his thighs, rising like a wall of fire to burn through his balls. Her body grew hotter, fed those flames, clamped down so hard, so unexpectedly, strangling his cock with the burn, with the pleasure-pain. He couldn’t even separate the two sensations they were so tied together. Ecstasy. Paradise. Hell. It was all there in the miracle of her body as it milked his, demanding his seed.

He felt the roar of it, heard it thundering in his ears, the fiery flames consuming him as he emptied himself into her. He swept her with him into the fire, so that her body shuddered with her violent release. He took everything she was into his keeping, and he gave her everything he was.

He knew he’d never be the same. He didn’t want to be. This woman had changed his life in ways he hadn’t known she could, but he wouldn’t ever go back to life without out her. He kissed her over and over. He left his mark on his neck. Her breasts. Little strawberries that stood out on her pale skin, little marks of his possession.

Eli buried his face in her neck, holding her tight, his body over hers, arms, hips, chest and legs aligned as best he could. He lay there for a long moment, feeling her heart pounding against his, knowing he had to move, but something wouldn’t allow him to.

She wrapped her arms around him instead of pushing his heavy body off of her. The tight ball of fear deep inside him, the one always one moment away from threatening to consume him, thawed around the edges. That was his Catarina. She was so accepting of him, of his controlling, dominant ways. He knew he had to ease up a little. He could see the little signs of impending rebellion, but still, she hung in there with him, trying to give him time to come to terms with his fear of losing her.

Her hands glided up his back. Went to his hair. Her fingers threaded the silky strands, then caressed and tugged. There was such a feeling of contentment lying with her, her body melting into his. Her scent wrapping him up and her hands moving over him so gently.