She squirmed, her hips bucking against him, trying to impale herself on his hard-as-hell cock, but he held her just out of reach, allowing the flared head to penetrate, but using his strength to keep her from sliding over him with her slick, hot heat.

“Elijah,” she protested. Panting. Needing.

“You disobey me, baby?” he demanded, his mouth at her shoulder. Teeth biting down in warning. She went still. He caught her messy knot and yanked her head back, forcing her eyes to meet his. “You disobey me? I gave you orders.” His teeth bit down again, this time a little harder. More leopard. He kept his eyes on hers. Letting her see his leopard’s fury. The man’s temper. “Orders that would keep you safe.”

She swallowed and stayed very still, pressed up against him, her heart beating fast and loud enough that he heard it.

“Fucking answer me, Siena.”

She bit her lip, nodding. “I was scared for you,” she whispered. “Elijah, I smelled the other male and I knew there were two of them.”

“I told you no matter what to stay put. What part of that did you not understand?”

His fingers left her hair and went to her hips, both hands there now, and he slammed her down hard, right over him. Deep. Hot. Burning hot. Scorching hot, to match the fury of his temper.

She gasped. Her muscles were incredibly tight around him, that silken fist clasping him hard, reluctantly giving way to his violent invasion. She tried to move, but he held her there. His prisoner. His captive. His woman who didn’t know how to do anything she was told.

“What fucking part of that did you not understand?”

“I was afraid for you,” she reiterated, when she could get her breath. “Elijah, I knew I couldn’t help you. I thought if I got Drake . . .”

“No, baby, you didn’t think. I left you there safe. The moment you moved they heard you. They knew you were there. If things hadn’t have gone right, if I hadn’t incapacitated the first one before Paolo even knew I was there, he would have been on you. I had to worry about you instead of concentrating on killing that fucker.”

He lifted her, feeling that tight burn all along his shaft, that squeeze of her muscles, the intensity of the friction. Beautiful. Beautiful even in his fury. His eyes blazed into hers and he saw that change. The shift. She had known he would be angry. She knew. She still had gone for help, risking his wrath because she’d been afraid for him. Taking care of him. It was the absolute wrong thing to do, but she’d done it for him.