Kidnapping His Bride

“You had your hand beneath them not too long ago,” she reminded him, her eyes widening when she realized what she just said.

Well, well, well. Being with Rafe made her bold. And she liked it.

“That I did. And what a pleasure that was, I must say.” His fingers slipped beneath the thin fabric of her panties, tangling with her pubic hair, stalling her breath. “Or more like it brought you so much pleasure. I enjoyed watching you reach for all that pleasure, too. You’re quite beautiful when you’re coming, Kitty Cat. Has anyone ever told you that?”

She shook her head, her hair getting in her face, and she pushed it back. This could be the time, the moment when she might confess her little secret. But she was scared, afraid of his reaction.

More than anything, she was scared of his rejection.

“I don’t think I’d want to know of your past interludes anyway. No one wants to hear that sort of thing.” He sounded vaguely jealous, which was funny, since he had no one to be jealous of. No man had ever really been that interested in her. Oh, she’d had teenage boyfriends, but nothing lasting. One young man had taken a strong interest in her when she was nineteen, and they’d spent a lot of time together. Annalisa had encouraged her relentlessly to be with him, pushing him on Cat to the point of making a spectacle of herself. Her sister had believed the two of them would’ve made a perfect couple, direct quote.

But all she could ever think of when she’d been with kind, bashful Lorenzo was how she couldn’t pursue anything further with him. She was promised to another. More than that, she secretly enjoyed being promised to another. At that young age, she believed herself half in love with Rafael.

Foolish, girlish dreams. She hadn’t a clue what love meant. She still wasn’t sure.

But she knew what it was like to lust. To want. She wanted Rafe so badly her body ached for his.

She needed to be honest with him. Before they continued this night, she must tell him the truth. It was only right. If he pushed her away, then at least she would know where she stood with him.

“I agree,” she finally said, her voice so small she noticed he cocked his head toward her, his fingers toying with her sex, making it hard for her to think. “No one wants to hear that sort of thing. I don’t have any stories like that, though.”

“What do you mean?” He wasn’t really paying attention, too focused on the magic he was creating between her legs.

Biting her lip, she fought to keep her senses when his fingers brushed her clit, causing her to whimper. “I’ve…never been with another man before.”

His fingers stilled, his gaze meeting hers. “Never?”

She slowly shook her head. “Ever.”

He slipped his hand out of her panties, lifting himself off of her, and she felt the loss keenly. “Are you saying you’re a…”

“Virgin.” She nodded. “Yes. I am.”

Incredulity passed across his handsome face. “Really?”

Okay, his doubt was starting to irritate her. “I saved myself for you, Rafe. All these years, pushing away the few boys who showed a bit of interest in me. I told them all I was promised to someone else.”

“I…wow.” He settled back against the pillows, running a hand through his hair, mussing it up in the most adorably sexy way. “I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around this.”

She leaned into him, brushing her breasts against his biceps, dropping a kiss on his shoulder. “You must admit, this situation we’ve been a part of since we were children is rather unusual.”

“Cat.” He moved so quickly, she suddenly found herself on her back again, Rafe above her, his lower body pressed against hers, nestled between her hips. “It—it means a lot, that you’re so willing to give your body up to me.”

“I’d always planned on giving myself to you,” she confessed, sucking in a harsh breath when he bent his head, kissing her silent.

“You fully planned on giving your body to someone else when you ended it with me a few nights ago,” he murmured against her mouth.

He would never tire of bringing that back up, would he? If they married, would he mention that incident twenty years from now? Forty years? “That was a moment of irrationality.”