The Vampire's Luna

The way he said it sent a shiver right down her spine. Her breath hitched, but she straightened her shoulders and met his gaze head-on, a defiant princess in full blush mode. "Yes. That’s what I meant. But like I said—bucket list."

Damien stared at her. His grin widened, slow and thoroughly wicked. "Oh, it’s going to happen, Luna. Someday." He leaned in, close enough for her to smell the faint spice of his cologne, close enough to make her head spin. "And I don’t care if by then you’re already married to your perfect little alpha pup. I will still make love to you... so thoroughly that you’ll bite your fingers in pleasure and in regret for not choosing me."

"Damien—!" she gasped, scandalized. The sound came out breathy, and her hand shot up to cover her mouth, horrified by the way her own voice had dripped with accidental sensuality. "Oh my goddess..."

He laughed and she could see the pride glimmering behind his amusement. "That was honestly the hottest thing I’ve heard today," he admitted, utterly delighted. "Your voice when you moan my name... That’s going to haunt me."

Luna groaned into her palm. "Stop talking. Please."

But Damien wasn’t done. "Look, I get it. You’re twenty-one now. Coming of age. Your body’s waking up to all its... delightful potential. It’s totally normal. Honestly, at this stage, you’d probably jump anyone’s bones."

"I think," Luna said with faux dignity, "we need to get back to the party... before I jump your bones."

Damien offered his arm. "I’ll be a gentleman...until you beg me not to be."

She rolled her eyes but slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. "Keep dreaming, vampire."

"Oh, I do. About you. Often. Vividly."