He leaned closer and brushed his lips against her cheek. “I think it’s a very good idea. You taste of heaven, Jasmine. I find it’s a flavor I crave. I want more.” And he hoped her answers to his other questions satisfied him. He wanted to enjoy her.
Her exhaled breath wafted over his neck. “Jazz, not Jasmine. I’m not a flower.”
“You’re pretty enough to be one.” A breathless laugh met his declaration, no denial. “Tell me, Jazz, am I too late?”
She slid her hands up his chest and started to inch them around his neck but abruptly dropped them. “Too late for what?”
The scent of Royal feline—a mix of predators—drifted to him. He brought her wrist to his nose and inhaled. Then frowned. He sniffed again, openmouthed to taste the pheromones laced into the smell. Two distinct scents were rubbed onto her skin—a temporary claim that was nearly gone. The shifters who’d marked her were male. Of that he was certain, but he couldn’t tell anything else except the males weren’t familiar.
And their claim wasn’t permanent.
He dragged his fingers down her neck and across her shoulder, pulling the edge of her collar back. Unmarred skin showed where a bite mark would’ve identified her as a mated female. She wasn’t taken.
Possessiveness gripped him, stronger than he’d ever known. The sentiment of his inner felines added to it. He wanted to keep her. Simple as that.
He rubbed her wrist against his cheek, removing the other males’ scents and replacing it with his. Her fragrance—sweet, rich, and purely Jasmine—seeped into his lungs. His tongue roughened, and the first hint of fangs slipped past his teeth. The physical response to her unique scent was a first for him.
She’d triggered his primal side.
“Too late for what?” She repeated.
He glanced into the face of the female who’d awakened his primitive instincts. The only woman who had. For a Royal, that distinction opened up a world of possibilities. All promised to leave him sated. After five hundred years, he’d be a fool to turn his back on a chance at experiencing heaven on earth, even if it only lasted a night.
He stepped closer to Jasmine and dragged in another lungful of her scent. His body ached with need. Oh yes, she’d satisfy him, and the sight of her naked would be a memory he’d treasure.
He toyed with the neckline of her shirt and fought the urge to caress her shoulder. Normal human males weren’t fascinated with that spot of a woman’s body, and he prided himself as acting as one whenever possible.
“Am I too late to claim you?”
Her brows scrunched at his question. “Are you asking if I have a boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
“That’s an odd way to say it. Are you European?”
“Originally.” He skimmed his fingers over her forehead, smoothing her creased skin. “Well? Do you have a lover?” Or did she have two?
“No, no. I’m all alone.” She shook her head. “I mean I have important people in my life, but I’m not involved with anyone.”
What did that make the two males who’d left their scents on her? Friends? Business partners? Whatever they were to her, they were fools to have left her alone.
“That’s good to know.” He took her hand and urged her to follow him. She flicked her gaze to the crowded room but fell in step beside him. He tried the nearest door, found it unlocked and the room empty. An office—Josh’s, going by the scent lingering there. No matter. It was quiet and private. “But I need to know who those important people in your life are before I claim a spot in it.”
“What?” She grabbed the doorjamb. “Wait a minute, buddy—”
“Rafe.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “I am not going in there with you, Rafe.”
He crowded her against the door. “Why not?”
“I don’t know you, and I’m not the type of girl to go off with a man. In fact”—she slipped under his arm—“I shouldn’t have followed you out of the bar. I’ve got to get home.”
He pulled her back. “You can’t leave. Not yet.” He breathed the words against her ear. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Which one was that?”
“About what it’ll take to get into your bed.” Why did he ask that?
He inwardly cursed. There were more important things he needed to uncover. Who the males were who’d scent-marked her. Why she was at Tony’s house. Who Josh was to her. But no. He let his instincts rule him.
She turned in his embrace and linked her hands around his neck. “That’s a line I haven’t heard before.”
Well…in for a pound. “Will it work?”
Jasmine pressed her mouth to his ear. “No.” She pushed away from him. “I need to go home.”
Two strides brought him in front of her. “First, a kiss goodbye.”
The small dip of her chin was the confirmation he needed. He settled his hands on her hips, lifted her, and pressed her against the wall. His mouth muffled her gasp. He kissed her, leading her with deep, rolling thrusts of his tongue until she grew pliant in his embrace. He widened his stance to steady his legs and pressed her more firmly into the wall with his hips.
Instincts rose, ones he had no business feeling, but the need to leave his mark on Jasmine grew with each breathy moan he pulled from her. The urge worried him, but he couldn’t deny it, not when his skin tingled with the desire to feel hers rubbing against it, sweat slickened and in the throes of passion. It was lust—plain and simple—but the urgency riding him to lock her to his side wasn’t a normal reaction. It was a scary one. Didn’t stop him, though.
Noise from the bar behind them reminded him how close they were to others, males who would look upon Jasmine with desire. He’d want to hurt them for it. That wasn’t a reaction normal males had. Rafe urged her to wrap her legs around him. She did,
