Treasured Find (Royal Pride Book 1) (4 page)

She was his.
At least for the moment.

He propped on his elbow, giving her space. It also allowed him to judge her reaction. He didn’t want to push her into doing something she didn’t want, but he needed to touch her, exactly as he’d claimed.

Her half-lidded, drowsy gaze met his.

“You do enjoy being touched, don’t you?”

She swallowed hard but didn’t respond.

“Answer me.”

“Yes.”

He slid one finger under the elastic of her underwear and brushed his fingertip over her slick lower lips. “You’re wet, Jasmine.”

She glanced from his face to her panties. The excited yet hesitant way she watched him caress her made him wonder exactly how experienced the little siren was. From the way she’d kissed, he would’ve said very. Maybe he’d assumed wrong.

“Drenched.” He circled her opening with his fingertip. Her heat and warmth lured him closer. He didn’t fight the temptation. He pushed two fingers into her body, and her breath rushed out. “Sensitive too.”

“We shouldn’t…” She lifted her bottom, and her inner muscles squeezed his fingers. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

He pressed his hand to her lower belly, holding her still. “Do you want me to stop?”

“I should say yes.”

Hunger burned in her eyes, but her lip caught between her teeth spoke of her warring desires.

“Look at me.”

She met his gaze.

“I’m not going to fuck you, but you will come around my tongue. I want to taste you. Hear you moan my name.” He worked her panties down her leg, leaving the fabric hooked on one ankle. “No one else’s. Your pleasure is mine tonight.”

“I don’t know you.”

“You will.” Whether she learned the intimate details of his life or simply the basics depended on her.

“We’re in a public place.” Excitement tinged her words.

“Which is why we came back here.”

“You planned this?”

“Not exactly. I wanted to talk to you in private.” He curled his fingers and stroked her core. Her eyelids fluttered. “You’ve distracted me.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“A mutual friend.”

Her brows pinched. “Are you talking about Jo—”

He added a third finger and pumped them into her body. Her words turned into a throaty groan. He grinned and stroked her until her arousal soaked his hand. Her breaths quickened. Each exhale lifted her breasts, pushing her erect nipples against the thin cotton. In and out he slid his fingers, listening to the clues she offered and adjusting the speed and angle of his thrusts to take her to the edge.

Each time her sex quivered and her breathing hitched, he changed the depth, delaying her release. He wasn’t quite ready to allow the hot little Jasmine to orgasm. He enjoyed hearing the sounds coming from her mouth.

“Rafe”—she rocked against his hand—“please.”

The
please
did it. He couldn’t deny her pleasure, not with the desperation laced into that one word.

He replaced his fingers with his tongue. She cried out, and he groaned. Her flavor was as unique as the woman in his arms—a sweet, earthy tang that left him hungry for more.

He slid his hands under her bottom and kissed her as completely as he’d explored her mouth. More rich arousal flowed the longer he licked her. She hooked her legs over his shoulders. The move pushed her sex against his face, slickening his chin and shoving his nose into her glistening, short curls. He loved her taste, her eager response, her passion.

Possessiveness flared, stronger than before. He ignored it and focused on stimulating her. With his hands on her butt cheeks, he helped her fuck herself on his tongue. Her cries guided him. A groan crawled up his throat. She shuddered in response.
Perfect.
He growled softly, letting the rumble against her sensitive lips take her higher.

“Yes. There. Please, lick me there.”

More flicks, and she sobbed his name. He pushed his thumb against her rear opening, and she trembled.

Worshiping Jasmine became his world. He listened, felt the slight change in the muscles along her core. She was close. Ready to come. He tilted his head, withdrew his tongue and sucked. Her thighs trembled, and she moaned his name. Satisfaction swelled his chest. He brushed his thumb back and force over her ass and lapped up her release.

The moment she sagged in his arms, he crawled over her and took her mouth in a deep kiss. The taste of her arousal on his lips didn’t bother her, not if her soft sigh was any indication.

She skimmed her fingertips across his back to settle at the base of his spine and pulled him closer. His breath rushed out with the simple move. More rightness settled over him. He wanted to curl his body around hers and…hold her. Not fuck her. Just tuck her against his chest so her breath warmed his skin.

And yes, I think that means I’m screwed.

He turned his head. A deep breath cleared his mind of the thoughts he couldn’t allow to take root. Not yet anyway. “Delicious. Thank you, my Jasmine.”

She traced his cheek. “Shouldn’t that be my line?”

He sucked her fingers into his mouth, caressing each tip with his tongue before releasing them. “No line. I feel privileged to be the male gifted with your cries, to have the chance to taste your sweetness.”

She released a shaky breath. “Wow. You’re a dangerous man, Rafe Alexander.”

In more ways than one. If his instincts failed him, then she would learn exactly how dangerous he was.
No.
He wouldn’t allow those thoughts to take hold. His inner spirits would never have allowed him to touch her if they doubted her. He had to trust them.

Whatever secret she held, he’d uncover, and he needed to do so soon. There was a damn good chance he’d gotten himself addicted to the woman.

Chapter Four

Jazz couldn’t move. Her body lay boneless, sated and so relaxed she could’ve drifted off to sleep if not for the heavy weight of the man who’d pleasured her keeping her awake. Rafe’s head rested on her stomach while he skimmed his fingers up her side. The sweeping exploration reached under her shirt to skim along the edge of her bra, but he made no move to unhook it. He hesitated each time as if he were debating whether he wanted to push for more. At the moment, with her body humming and pliant, she wouldn’t have fought him.

Rafe would know it too. With the easy, confident way he’d touched her, she had no doubt he was well experienced. Unlike her. She hadn’t had any sexual relations in… five years.

Jeez, she hadn’t realized it’d been so long. She’d gone from abstinence to oral sex with a stranger.

What have I done?

His fingers stilled. He lifted his head and peered at her through the blond strands of his hair. He appeared wild and untamed…a primitive male set on taking down his prey. Her breathing quickened.

“Jasmine?”

The cautious way he said her name added to the churning in her belly.

“Off.” She shoved at his shoulders.

He sat up slowly, as if afraid to startle her. She stood and smoothed her skirt. The clock on the wall chimed. Nine o’clock. Curses zinged through her head. She’d promised Mr. Wilkins she’d be home by nine-thirty.

She ran a hand through her hair. Or tried too. The tangled mess would need more help than her fingers could give. It would have to wait. She tugged up her panties and reached for her keys. They weren’t in her skirt. Not surprising. She’d dressed for fashion, not practicality.
And I failed at both. My shoes don’t even match.

“Dammit!” She glanced under the desk. Nothing.

“Looking for these?”

“Yes!” She reached for them. He raised his hand, keeping the ring with her two keys just out of reach. “Gimme those.”

He slid his other arm around her waist and slammed their bodies together. The thick cock pressed into her belly left little doubt about his feelings.

“Not until you give me your name and number. I want to see you again, Jasmine.”

She swallowed hard and tipped her head back. Heavy-lidded eyes met hers. “Jazz. Not Jasmine.”

He shook his head and slid a hand over her bottom. He massaged each cheek before resting his palm over her hip. “Only in public. When we’re alone, you will be my Jasmine.”

The possessive edge to his voice left her body and mind warring. She went lax in his arms, while her instincts warned her to run. The intensity to his gaze made her feel as if she were his prey, the one he meant to capture. He blinked and broke the spell.

“Don’t look so shocked. I didn’t lie when I said you caught my interest.” He grinned at her. “You should feel special.”

Special? Right.
She snorted. “I’m sorry I led you on, Rafe, but I’m not interested in a relationship with you.”

“Not interested…in a relationship.” He bent closer, forcing her to lean backward. “Exactly what does that mean?”

“It means exactly what I said. I am not interested in a relationship with you. This shouldn’t have happened. I got carried away.” She held out her hand. “Now give me my keys.”

A tic developed on his jaw. “And why shouldn’t this have happened?”

“Umm, well for one, you’re a stranger. And two, I’m not interested!”

He made a low, annoyed sound and kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth and urging her to follow his lead. She didn’t resist him. After experiencing passion in his arms, she was eager for anything he gave her. She shouldn’t be, not with a stranger, but she hungered for him.

He slipped his hand under her skirt, pushing the material out of his way, and the slow drag of his roughened fingertips along her inner thigh left her trembling. She widened her stance, giving him better access. He took her invitation, pushing the barrier of her underwear aside and plunging his fingers into her core.

She didn’t have time to enjoy Rafe’s seduction, but she ground herself over his hand, fucking herself, and kissed him harder.

Her arousal flowed the longer he worked her sex, and the sound of his palm smacking her wet lower lips with each thrust excited her more. She tugged him closer, but he pulled his hand free and lifted her.

He carried her to the couch and settled over her, spreading her legs apart with his knee. He rocked against her. Sparks ignited in her clit, and she whimpered. He kept kissing her and arousing her with the subtle pressure on her sensitized nerves.

For the first time in five years, she wanted to have sex. Just the thought of having Rafe’s cock inside her had her core clenching, but the sound of a zipper being undone yanked her out of the lust-filled moment.

What am I doing?

She shoved against his shoulders. They both fell to the floor. She scrambled up and backed quickly to the door. Rafe stilled, one hand on the floor and the other on the edge of the couch.

“Rafe, I—”

“No.” He zipped his pants. “Don’t. I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“Me too. Look, it’s nothing personal. I just don’t want to take this any further.”

He stood, a lithe move that reminded her of a dancer, and walked toward her. He brushed a few strands of hair from her cheek. “Why?”

“I’m a single mom. My kids come first. Always.” She looked imploringly at him. “It’s nothing personal. Really. It’s just the way it has to be.”

He stared at her for so long she squirmed under his scrutiny.

“A mother?”

Her belly twisted. The couple of times she’d actually showed interest in a guy, right after she’d moved back home and needed a lover, not a boyfriend, they’d looked at her the same way Rafe did. After dropping a lame excuse, they’d run in the opposite direction.

She sighed. “Yeah, a mother.”

“Of boys.”

It was a statement, not a question, as if he already knew the answer. He couldn’t. Then again, if he were Josh’s friend, Rafe might know more than she thought.

She nodded. “Yes. Twins.”

“Adopted.”

Another statement.

She licked her lips. The fake birth certificates she’d paid to get had never been scrutinized. Nobody, not even Josh, had ever suspected the truth. Why would she think Rafe would?

“No, they’re mine.”

He parted his lips on an inhale.

Her heart skipped a beat. She’d seen her boys do the same thing more times than she could count. Big cats had special sensory organs in their mouths that allowed them to taste scents. If she didn’t know better she’d say Rafe was doing the same thing, but shifters were rare. Megan was the only one Jazz had stumbled over in the years since she’d been the mother of two. The odds that Rafe was a shifter too…

She moved slowly away from him.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Children are precious. I would never think of coming between a mother and her kids, but I don’t want to let this thing between us go.”

“There is nothing between us.” She motioned from him to her. “This was just a spur of the moment thing. It wasn’t serious.”

“If you want to believe that, go ahead.” Rafe closed the distance between them. He tipped up her chin. “But I don’t buy it for a minute. There’s something between us. I don’t know what it is, but it’s real.”

“That’s lust, Rafe. Walk out into that bar and grab another girl. I’m sure you’ll feel the same thing.”

An amused glint lightened his eyes. She didn’t get the chance to say more. He bent his head and kissed her. Slowly. Tenderly. Tension drained from her muscles, and a shaky sigh escaped. The man stirred emotions within her she didn’t have the energy to fight.

On her tiptoes, she linked her arms around his neck and met him, stroke for stroke. After an endless moment where they worshiped each other, he pulled back.

“That’s more than lust.” He pressed their joined hands to his chest, right over his heart. “I feel it here.”

She blinked. “I…I…”

“Don’t make up an excuse. I see the rejection in your eyes, but I also see your reluctance.” He pressed a kiss to her palm. “Give it a chance. We can meet somewhere public. I want to talk to you. Kiss you again. It doesn’t have to be more. I’m a patient man.”

Hadn’t she just thought how much she regretted cutting herself from her family and friends? Other than Mr. Wilkins, she was alone. Yes, she had Josh—or she would once he learned about Megan—but he didn’t make her burn the way Rafe could.

She glanced into Rafe’s face. A mix of patience and hunger shone in his eyes. There was no rule that single mothers couldn’t move on. If a man were to fall in love with her, knowing she had kids, wouldn’t he also be making a commitment to her boys? Love them as much as she did? No matter what they were. If he were a good guy, he would. If not, well she wouldn’t be with him.

The only way to find out which label applied to Rafe was to spend time with him. She could meet him at public places, exactly as he’d suggested. If she talked it over with Seth and Levi, they’d be careful not to let Rafe see something he shouldn’t. They weren’t babies anymore. Their control over their cats got better every day.

Making a decision, she slipped under Rafe’s arm and walked to the desk. With shaky hands, she scribbled her name and number on a piece of paper, folded it and handed it to him. “I’m not promising anything, Rafe.”

“Okay, Jasmine.”

Normally she hated when people used her full name, but in Rafe’s unusual accent it made her feel beautiful. She couldn’t place the lilt to his speech. It wasn’t quite Irish, but it had a similar lulling quality.

She motioned to the private bathroom. “I’m going to get cleaned up. I need to get home.”

“I’ll wait for you and walk you to your car.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I have my own selfish reasons.” He rubbed his chin and glanced away before meeting her gaze. “I want to enjoy your company for as long as I can. I’m just grateful you were able to get a babysitter to your house to watch your boys tonight.”

“Actually, they’re at my neighbor’s house. He doesn’t drive at night.”

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Then I should thank him for watching your children. I hate to think that our paths would never have crossed.”

“Umm, yeah…me too.”

She wasn’t quite sure how she went from trying to run from him to agreeing to a date, but she knew one thing—Rafe was the most romantic man she’d ever met.

That, or he was a damn good player.