He caught her wrist as she slid off the bed, stopping her, looking up at her from where he lay. She was naked. All bare skin and lush curves. Beautiful. “Who do you belong to, Siena?”

Her green eyes drifted over his face. Over his body. Touching him without actually skimming her fingers over his skin. He felt that look. It seared him. Claimed him. Along with the soft there was possession. Tenderness. Things that knotted his belly more. That sent fear curling through him—the ugly snake that said any enemy could slay him, using her.

“I ask you a question, baby, I expect an answer,” he said quietly, but with an edge to his voice. She had to know. She had to always know.

“I belong to you, Elijah.”

“You get that we’re leopards. Shifters.”

She frowned, uncertain where he was going.

“Yes. I don’t know much about that part of who I am, but yes, I know we’re both shifters.”

“What you need to get, mi amorcito, is that leopards don’t like other males around their woman. Around their mate. My male is bonded to your female. He’s going to need her regularly, and he isn’t going to want any other male close to her. I don’t want any other male close to you. Don’t touch any of the men.”

He saw her shut down. Her green eyes glittered and she took a step back. He didn’t relinquish his hold on her wrist. His fingers tightened, shackling her to him as he sat up. “Don’t get all pissy on me, Siena. I’m telling you a fact we both have to live with. I’ve got a male that rides me hard and I’m part of that. I feel that. You’re mine. You belong to me. I need you safe, and I need other men to back the hell off. That means you don’t encourage them . . .”

“Encourage them?” She spat the words out. “Let go of me. I’m going to take my bath, and I suggest you go soak your head in a bucket of water. I don’t flirt with other men. I certainly don’t touch them and I don’t care for the implication you’re making.”

“Who the fuck were you calling earlier, then, because I’m pretty damn certain that was another man. Another leopard.” He spat the words at her, knowing each time she got close, shattered him, owned him, he used his temper to pull himself back together. And there was always something he could get angry about. His leopard leapt for the surface. Savage. Fierce. Demanding to bring her back to his bed and force her to acknowledge that he owned her. Because, by God, she wasn’t owning him without it going both ways.