She put extra love into his favorite caramel drink. She always teased him, saying the caramel sweetened him. He said it was the extra shots of espresso. Whichever it was didn't matter, only that smile he gave her when he took his first sip.
Eli returned looking casual in his drawstring pants and light shirt. She knew he wore them, like most shifters, to be able to get out of them fast. His arm swooped around her waist as he took the coffee from her. She watched as he took that first sip and then looked down at her.
"You're a fucking miracle, Catarina," he said, meaning it.
She brushed a kiss over his jaw. "When we have children, Eli, you're going to have to watch your mouth. But this one time, I'll admit, I rather like being your fucking miracle."
He blinked. His mouth twitched. He leaned down and brushed another kiss over her lips. "You don't get to swear. It doesn't sound the same. And for your information, I have been toning it down."
She burst out laughing again. "No way. You let go with two f-bombs in one sentence. That is not toning it down."
"Two exceptions, Kitten." He nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. "When you make me so angry I want to shake you until your teeth rattle, or put you over my knee and make it so you can't sit down for a week or two, I get to drop as many f-bombs as necessary to keep from doing either."
She mulled that over. "Okay. I'll agree."
"That was one exception."
"That was two. Rattling teeth. Not sitting for a week. Two."
"You make me want to do both at the same time, so one," he argued, drinking more of his coffee.
She rolled her eyes. "Fine, that's one. What's the second one?"
His smile made her stomach roll. Let loose a million butterflies. She reached up to brush the pads of her fingers down his jaw, her heart turning over.
"When you make me so crazy, burn so hot, lose my mind when I'm inside you so that I can't do anything else."
Her fingers curled in his hair. Stroked caresses. Anchored there. She loved that his hair was just a little too long and she could curl her fist there. "I like you crazy and burning hot."
"Out of my mind," he reminded, in his sinfully hot voice.
"That too," Catarina conceded. She looked up, into his eyes. Loving him. She knew he could see it and she didn't hide it from him.
He groaned softly. "Go take your shower, baby, before we start all over again. You're so damned tempting, at this rate, I'll never get anything done. We're supposed to be starting a ranch."
She laughed again, just because she was so happy. "We don't actually have any livestock yet, Eli, we can't exactly call this a working ranch. You're going to go sit in your favorite chair on the porch while I shower."
"Well. That's true," he conceded. "But I'm planning."
Catarina shook her head and left him in the kitchen. She didn't dare kiss him again because she knew if she did, she wouldn't stop and he'd need another shower. She had never considered, growing up, not one time, that anyone could be so happy.
She turned music on, her favorite playlist, while she showered. That was another thing Eli had done. Another gift. The moment he discovered she loved music, he'd given her an iPod and showed her how to fill it with the songs she enjoyed. There was a small speaker that she could attach it to, making it easy to listen to her music while she showered.
She liked the water hot, and she stood for a long while under the heavy spray, feeling the way the hot water soaked into her skin and made her feel languid and lazy. Eli never made her feel as if the things she wanted when they made love were wrong. She liked when he was edgy and rough. She liked when he pushed her out of her comfort zone. She liked bossy and arrogant and dominant. She didn't feel as if it made her weak at all.
She reveled in the way they came together. And she really wouldn't mind stripping naked and dancing on the table if he used that one sexy, commanding voice when he told her to do it. She was definitely getting a tattoo on her lower spine, just because he liked caressing her there. He often pressed his lips there.
She didn't want to linger too long there in the shower. She was already thinking about what she'd cook for his breakfast. She enjoyed cooking for him as well. He gave her so much and that was one way she knew she could give back. He enjoyed the meals she made for him. She and Emma had exchanged recipes and she was experimenting with some of them to make them even better.
She wrapped her hair in a towel and dried off, taking her time. Her body still felt sensual and sensitive, especially her breasts. She was a little sore between her legs, but that wasn't unusual. Eli was large and thick and they went a little crazy sometimes. She liked rough and he usually was very rough. Still, those little tinges only served to remind her of his possession. She loved being possessed by him.
She dressed carefully, choosing clothes that came off fast and easy. She had caches scattered around the ranch, just as Eli did. It was something most shifters did, just in case they were caught somewhere and needed clothes and supplies. The everyday clothes they wore were clothes they could shed as fast and efficiently as possible.
She loved her boots. Loved them. Shifters didn't wear boots that often because they were much harder to get off. Still, she loved them, and when Rafe was out of her life, she intended to wear every single pair lined up in her closet. That thought made her very happy.
She pulled on a skirt, tugging it to her hips. The band was wide and comfortable, the material falling in graceful ruffles to her ankles. The skirt was one of her favorites, so soft and swingy, very feminine. She knew Eli liked it. He'd chosen it for her when they'd ordered clothes off one of her favorite Internet sites. She'd looked at it all the time, but she never actually ordered anything until Eli had encouraged her.
When everything with Rafe was finally settled, she wanted to get a job in town and make her own money so she wasn't reliant on Eli for funds. She knew instinctively that it would be a fight. Eli was a macho alpha male and he believed he should provide for his woman.
She stared at herself in the mirror as she unwrapped her hair and it fell to her waist. He loved her hair long. He loved her to wear it down. She always did in the house, just to please him, but when she went running with him or climbing, she clipped it up. True, it was convenient to have it up, but mostly she put it up so he'd take it down. She loved the way he did that, all impatient, a frown on his face and then his hands would be in her hair, fingers threading through the strands so possessively.
She brushed all the tangles out, taking her time, looking at the woman she'd become. A few months ago she could never have looked at her body and been confident and proud of herself. She'd been ashamed of her lack of formal education. She'd found fault with every curve. She brought her hands up to her breasts. Now, she loved the sight of the body that pleased Eli so much. He worshiped her body.
Eli's marks were everywhere on her skin, on her curves, those dark smudges that told her the path his hands and mouth had followed. She loved seeing those signs of his possession. The sight always made her feel even sexier.
She chose a lacy white camisole to wear so she wouldn't have to wear a bra for support. The camisole fit snugly around her breasts and was tight around her rib cage. It was short, baring a strip of her midriff, the real reason she chose it. Eli could never resist touching her bare skin. The zipper on the side allowed her to get out of it fast, so she knew if he decided to practice shifting, she'd be much faster than he would think and she might actually best him.
She rarely wore panties at home, especially when she knew they'd be shifting. It was just one more item of clothing to get rid of, slowing her down. A thong or boy shorts could cost her precious seconds, just as a bra could. She made a mental note to consult with Emma about what she did when it came to clothing.
She left her hair down to dry, brushed her teeth thoroughly and made her way to the kitchen to begin cooking. Of course Eli was outside on the porch. Dawn was breaking. He loved to watch the light streaking through the dark. She made the dough for the beignets before she made her own coffee. Eli had grown fond of the warm treat with his coffee after breakfast and she always made them fresh.
She took her time making her coffee, looking around her kitchen. Eli had told her she could do anything she wanted with it and she had. He'd bought her the stove and pots and pans, the rest was her design and the touches that made life easier for her when she was working. The touches that made her feel as if the kitchen truly belonged to her.
Eli had given her that as well. Love welled up. Overwhelmed her. She needed him. Needed to be close to him. More and more she found herself drawn to him. Just like this. Her breasts ached and she found it was a wonderful sensation because the thought of Eli put that there. Her feminine core pounded with heat, and again, she loved the soreness that came from Eli's thick cock, stretching and burning her. She was glad that with every step she took, she could feel him.
Pushing open the screen door, she stepped outside. It was still dark, the light barely filtering through, but mostly that was because of the black clouds churning in the sky overhead.
The scent of blood hit her just as her gaze swept the porch. On the far side of the porch, away from the door, something heavy hung from chains. Swaying. Her heart stopped for a moment and then began to pound. She wanted to run to the swaying body--and it was a body--she could see that now. Not just any body, but Eli.
20
CATARINA froze. She forced every muscle to lock in place. There was no way to take her horrified gaze from Eli's golden one. His face was swollen. Blood streaked not only his face and head, but his chest as well. Clearly, while she'd been showering, daydreaming, Eli had been tortured.