“I want—” It came out as a whimper. Her searching fingers wandered to his waistband, slipping just beneath until she brushed the spot that always made him flinch.
He took control in a breath, flipping her beneath him, driving her down into the mattress. “Tell me what you want.”
“You,” she gasped.
“You have me,” he said roughly. “What do I get todoto you, little Bea?”
His fingers slid higher on her thigh, electrifyingly close to where she needed them.
“Touch me.”
She almost wept when his hand diverted, skimming with excruciating slowness around the curve of her hip, finding instead the underside of her breast. His thumb grazed her nipple lightly, and it shot sparks all the way through her.
“Last chance,” he warned. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”
She arched into his hand.
RAFAEL
He could’ve had her in seconds. Pulled her under, driven deep, and lost himself inside her. Her thighs were already parted, her chest rising fast beneath his shirt. Every sound she made cut into him, and the ones she swallowed were worse—it made him want to wring them from her.
Rafael knew where she wanted to be touched. His hand drifted lower, watching the minute changes in her expression, until it circled the thin fabric separating him from her heat.
“You’re already this wet and I’ve barely touched you.”
She chased his hand. “Please.”
Her desire, the way her voice broke, made him feel immortal. He caught the thin strap at her hips and peeled it down her legs.
“I know what you want, baby,” he said. “But tonight, I’m giving you what you need.”
His mouth found her collarbone and lingered there, feeling her pulse jump beneath his lips. He followed a path down, then took the tip of her breast into his mouth and sucked.
“Rafael,” she cried out.
On his fingers was proof of how quickly her body answered to him. He drew in a breath and held it, steadying himself at the brink of what he wanted most.
They’d drawn a line. He meant to keep it. He wouldn’t let her enter their marriage with even the smallest regret. He also couldn’t do nothing. Not with her trembling beneath him, asking.
His lips trailed lower. Navel, waist, to the place between her thighs where her skin turned butter-soft and dangerous. “I won’t take your wedding night from you,” he said huskily. “But you’re still going to come for me.”
He’d only given this to her once before, their very first time. Every time since, need had driven him to one place: inside her.
He started slow. Just enough to taste her.
She jolted beneath him, a sharp gasp tearing out of her. “What are you doing?”
In answer, he blew lightly and felt her shiver.
She tried to push up. “Wait.”
Rafael steadied her hips, holding her exactly where he wanted her. “Stay still.”
“I’m trying,” she breathed helplessly. She scrabbled for the sheets, gripping like they were the only thing tethering her to Earth.
His tongue worked her in short, precise motions that made her sob. Sweat bloomed across her skin as her body climbed upward. He felt it, knew the signs, so he pulled back at the last second, letting her feel the drop.
“More,” she rasped. “Please.”
