Chapter 75: John Mayer - Slow Dancing In A Burning Room
She pressed herself to him. With each stolen breath, her cheeks bloomed with color again. It was a miracle they could both feel in the most primal way.
"Damien..." she moaned, his name slipping from her lips.
That sound nearly undid him.
He felt giddy. His fangs throbbed in his gums, and it took every ounce of royal decorum he possessed not to slam his hand against the wall!
"I’m doing the right thing," he told himself silently, even as instinct and love tangled together in a chaotic, beautiful mess. "This is the right decision."
He pulled back just a fraction, needing to see her eyes. Needing to ground himself in the only truth that mattered.
"Do you trust me?" he asked.
"With my life," she whispered.
Damien’s heart cracked open. Gods, she could kill him with words like that. It was unfair, really, how she wielded trust like a blade and made him want to be pierced by it.
But she didn’t give him time to wallow in sentimentality. Luna pulled him back to her, hands slipping into his hair, anchoring him in the kiss as though terrified he might evaporate if she let go. She arched into him, her body moving with purpose now, driven by lust. She wanted to live—and she wanted him to be the reason.
He kissed her throat, lips soft against the curve where her pulse fluttered again. But it wasn’t enough—not for her.
She took his hand and guided it between her thighs, where fire met fingertips and proved that death was very much being evicted.