Chapter Fifteen

"I had no idea you lived so luxuriously." Juliette glanced around Catamount's Belgravia flat, silently impressed. In her mind, world-weary detectives lived in dark, cramped flats with stacks of dusty files one moderate breeze away from toppling into a scrambled mess on the ground. At least, she had believed that until ten minutes ago, when she'd followed him into his flat and her jaw had dropped at the sight.

"I'll give you a tour later," he said before rounding on her and pinning her to the front door, his large, hard body flush against the length of her. "But first, this."

"Oh my," she breathed, liking the feel of him. So hot. So powerful.

"Julie," he murmured, lowering his head as he nuzzled the spot at the base of her neck.

Awareness shot through her. "What are you doing?"

"Kissing your neck, is that all right?" His lips left a tingling trail in their wake.

It was more than all right. It was wonderful. Like something she knew intimately and cherished with all her heart. "Don't stop," she whispered.

"I wasn't planning to." His hands slid around her waist and pulled her more firmly against him.

"Thank you for today," she said, thinking of all the hard work he'd put in to make her safe. "I think you did your men proud."

"Yeah? That's good," he said as his hands began to roam leisurely over her body. They stroked up her hips and ribcage, the tips of his fingers just brushing the underside of her breasts. They plumped and began to ache, eager for his touch. The way he touched her felt both familiar and new. It was an arousing combination.

Catamount was making it hard for her to concentrate on what he was saying. "What did you say?"

"You feel damned good in my hands." Amusement laced his voice as he repeated himself.

Oh. "I feel like I belong in them."

"You do belong." He cupped her breasts, making her gasp softly. "You belong right here with me."

Arousal coursed through her, turning her veins to molten gold. She raised her hands and looped her fingers loosely around his neck. "I want to be here, Catamount," she whispered, meaning it. There was no place in the world she would rather be. Only right there in his arms.

In the window on the far side of the room, their reflection caught her eye. As she watched, his large hands covered her breasts, his thumbs brushing across her puckered nipples. His head was lowered and shimmered rich bronze in the play of firelight. He had the most beautiful hair she'd ever seen. He was beautiful, period.

And you've never, ever stopped loving him, her heart whispered, ripping a gasp from her throat.

Now it was time to show him.

* * *

Catamount felt the moment when Juliette made the decision to welcome him because her body melted against him. Excellent, because he'd already made his own. Juliette belonged with him. Always had. He couldn't wait any longer to show her.

Releasing her breasts, he slipped his hands underneath her skirts and discovered the smooth, warm skin beneath. "I want to see all of you."

"According to you, you already have," she whispered back.

"Not like this I haven't." He'd never seen Juliette naked with the firelight from his flat's fireplace dancing across her dips and curves. And it was Juliette who was making him feel so much that he needed to do something about it now or he was going to explode.

Impatience bared its teeth, and Catamount knew it was time. After everything he'd felt today, there was no turning back from this. He needed Juliette. Maybe he'd always needed her.

Gripping her dress in his hands, he pulled it over her head and threw it on the hardwood floor. Then he made quick work of her corset. Her breasts sprang free, and he groaned at the gorgeousness, watching them sway gently in before him. They were exactly how he remembered them.

Catamount reached for the waistband of her linen drawers. Very slowly he drew the flap open, pure male satisfaction filling him at the wide-eyed, aroused look he could see on her face. When he dipped his fingers inside, she bit her lip and moaned, rocking against his hand.

Desire ripped through him, destroying any last bit of restraint. "Juliette," he growled, and pushed his hand further down her drawers. When he reached her hot pussy, he slipped a finger between her slick folds and discovered how wet she already was for him.

Mine.

"Come for me," he demanded, wanting to see her face as she orgasmed on his hand again. Catamount needed to watch as she surrendered to the way he made her feel. How they made each other feel.

Finding her center, he began rubbing the swollen bud in slow circles, just the way he knew she loved. Possessiveness flooded him. Juliette loved the way he touched her. Only him.

"Catamount!" she gasped, and leaned her head back against his shoulder, her eyes closed. He could feel her hips moving restlessly against him, and it spurred him on. Made him hungry for more.

"That's it, love," he urged, moving his finger more purposefully on her now. "Come for me."

Her body began to tremble with impending release. Feeling how close she was, Catamount took his free hand and cupped a breast, plucking gently at her nipple. As he watched her in the window reflection, she moaned and whimpered, losing herself in the feel. With a throaty groan, she came all over his hand.

It was the most gorgeous fucking thing he'd ever seen.

Lowering them to the thick Persian rug in front of the roaring fire, Catamount quickly stripped off his clothes. "That was gorgeous," he said, then kissed Juliette long and deep once they were both lying naked on the rug. "You're gorgeous. Now give me more."

She gave him a thoroughly satisfied look. "I'm not sure I have another one in me."

"Want to bet?"

He found her slick entrance and pushed fully inside her, groaning at the hot, tight feel. She moaned too, and pulled her knees up, taking him even deeper. "Maybe I have one more."

Catamount made sure she did. Thrusting into her slowly at first, he kept up the gentle pace until she began to writhe underneath him. Until she closed her eyes in ecstasy.

Then he lost control.

He dropped to his elbows and cradled her head in his hands. Pumping hard, he let himself go. Let himself express everything he couldn't say. Every thrust, every touch, every kiss, showed her how he felt. Juliette belonged to him. His woman. His love.

When her inner muscles began to squeeze around him in impending orgasm, Catamount lowered his forehead to hers, "That's it, darling," he said, and kept stroking deep, over and over until she cried out in blissful surrender again, her body milking him to his own release. He came hard then, seeing stars, his body shaking.

Holy shite.