She lifted her chin at him. Lifted her chin. The little defiant chin that made his cock harder than a rock and made his leopard snarl and leap for the surface.

He shook his head, eyes glittering, more cat than human. The leopard roared with savage, brutish need to dominate. “Back the fuck off, Siena. This shit isn’t touching you any more than it already has. This is my mess. Mine. Drake’s. Your grandfather’s. You have no business being caught in the middle of it, and if it’s the last thing I do, I’m making sure you’re out of it.”

Her mouth opened and then closed with a snap as her green eyes darkened from emerald to a dangerous forest. Her face flushed. “Did you just tell me to back the f-word off?”

She sounded incredulous. Pissed. Adorable. His body, already painfully hard, began to burn. Heat rushed through his veins. Little jackhammers began tripping in his head. He tried to breathe away the need.

“The f-word? Baby.” There was no stopping his grin. No way. He wanted to lean down and kiss her mouth.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me, Elijah,” she snapped. “For your information, this shit is my shit. I brought it with me. It was never yours. So I have every right to know what’s going on and help figure out what to do about it.” She leaned closer, tilting her head to his. “Do you get me?”

That lean. That head tilt. She was fucking finished and she didn’t even know it. “Yeah, babe, I get you, but you’d better fucking get me.” He framed her face with both hands, and his cock jerked hard against his stomach. His body moved aggressively into hers. “My woman doesn’t have shit touch her, hers or mine. I’d give you the world, walk on water for you, give you whatever the hell you think you want, but not this. This shit doesn’t touch you again.”

He slammed his mouth down on hers, using his weight to drive her back to the mattress. Her body was soft, all lush curves, and he ran one hand over them, stopping to tug at her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and finger hard. She gasped into his mouth, arching her back.

“Open your legs,” he instructed against her mouth. Kissing her. Devouring her. Claiming her.

“Elijah.” She put one hand on his chest, trying to push at him.

He caught both wrists in one of his hands and slammed them above her head, holding them pinned there while the other continued to travel over her body. “Right fucking now, Siena. Spread your legs for me.”