Page 55 of A Hunter for Luna

"We should head back," I said, my voice gruff. "Regroup and plan our next move."

Luna nodded, turning away from the edge. "Lead the way."

We dropped down into a shadowed alley. My heart was still pounding from the chase, adrenaline coursing through my veins.Luna was breathing hard beside me, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.

"You did well tonight," I stepped closer until we were mere inches apart. My voice was low and rough, my lips brushing against hers with each word. "If you're not too tired, you could come to my room."

Luna smirked, tilting her head. "Are you inviting me because you're feeling generous, or because you're feeling something else?"

Desire coiled in my gut. "You know why."

She held my gaze. "Perhaps I do. But I want to hear you say it."

I leaned in, my hand cupping her cheek. "I want you, Luna. I've wanted you since the moment I saw you tonight, moving through that crowd like you owned it. Like you ownedme."

She drew in a sharp breath, her pulse jumping beneath my fingers. "Bene..."

I silenced her with a kiss, my mouth claiming hers with a hunger I couldn't control. She responded instantly, her arms winding around my neck as she pressed herself against me.

This was madness. She was my wife, but I barely knew her. I couldn’t trust her.

My body didn't care. It only knew the feel of her, soft and warm and eager in my arms. I deepened the kiss, my tongue sweeping into her mouth, and she made a small sound of pleasure that shot straight to my groin.

I broke away, breathing hard. "Not here," I said. "Come back with me. Let me take you to bed."

She looked up at me, her lips swollen from my kisses. "Yes," she said. "Take me to bed, Bene. Make me yours."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

LUNA

The hallway was dimly lit,the flickering torches casting shadows that danced across Benedetto's angular features. Heat radiated off his body as we stood there, facing each other, the air between us crackling with barely restrained desire. His dark eyes bore into mine, filled with a hunger that made my breath catch in my throat.

Benedetto's hand rested lightly on my hip, his fingers curling possessively into the fabric of my dress. I could feel the strength in his grip, the coiled power waiting to be unleashed.

"Well?" he murmured, his voice a low, rough growl that sent a shiver down my spine. "Are you coming in, or was that just for show?"

I hesitated, my heart pounding against my ribcage like a caged bird desperate to break free. I knew what this was—a moment of weakness, a chance to forget the chaos that ruled our lives and lose myself in his arms. But it was more than that. This was an opportunity, a means to an end. If I wanted to secure my future, I needed his child growing inside me.

I met his gaze head on, my chin tilted up in defiance. "I'm not a fool, Benedetto," I said quietly, my words carried on a shaky exhale. "I know what this is. But yes, I'm coming in. I'll take every chance to conceive that I can get."

Something flashed in his eyes—surprise, respect, perhaps even a grudging admiration at my boldness. He gave a curt nod and pushed the door open, stepping aside to let me enter first.

The room was swathed in shadows, the only illumination coming from the moonlight that filtered through the gauzy curtains. It painted everything in shades of silver and gray, from the rumpled sheets on the bed to the sparse furnishings scattered about.

Benedetto closed the door behind us, the latch clicking into place with a sound that seemed unnaturally loud in the pulse of silence. I could feel him behind me, the heat of his body seeping through the thin fabric of my dress and igniting a fire in my veins.

He stepped closer, the warm rasp of his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin at the nape of my neck. It made me shiver, goosebumps rising on my flesh. His fingers brushed my shoulders, trailing across my collarbones with a feather-light touch.

"You can still leave," he whispered, his lips hovering just beside my ear. "Last chance to run away."

I turned to face him, my pulse racing as I looked up into his shadowed features. Even in the dark, his eyes glittered with banked embers, twin pools of liquid heat that threatened to consume me.

"You want me to leave?" I challenged, injecting a note of sharpness into my tone.

His gaze raked over me, taking in every inch, from the rapid rise and fall of my chest to the determined set of my jaw. When his eyes finally met mine again, they were hooded, heavy with desire and something else—something raw and almost feral.

"No," he admitted hoarsely, the single word scraping out of his throat. "I don't."

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