The Vampire's Luna

Damien chuckled, the sound low and rough. He rubbed a hand over his face, as though trying to gather himself. "What’s the plan, Luna?" he asked. "Seduce me?"

"Yes." Luna answered.

Damien stared at her, eyes shadowed with a thousand things unsaid.

"And then what?" he asked.

Luna stepped closer, a sigh trembling from her chest. "I don’t know...I hate what we’ve become."

He laughed. "So, all it takes was to stop being a love-sick puppy for you to truly see me?" He tilted his head slightly, sarcasm lacing every word. "You really think sex can fix everything?"

She arched a brow, folding her arms under her chest, unfazed. "That’s what my marriage instructor told me." A teasing smirk danced across her lips.

"I’m not doing this with you."

"You are, though," Luna said quietly.

He paused.

She took that as permission and stepped even closer. "I love you, Damien...It may have taken this distance between us for me to realise it and I am sorry, but I do."

Her next step brought her so close he could feel the heat of her body. Her scent was intoxicating. He didn’t move, didn’t dare.

"You can choose to walk away tonight," she said, her words threading through the tension between them, "but I will chase you every single day." She smiled slightly. "Or you can stay and prove you’re still mine. We don’t even have to have sex. Maybe just dinner and conversation."

"Luna..." he breathed, but it came out like a warning.

She wasn’t done. Not tonight.

She raised her hands and splayed her fingers gently across his chest.

"I am still your moonlight." Her gaze locked with his, shining with stubborn vulnerability. "I will always be your moonlight, Your Highness."

He closed his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

She leaned in just enough that their foreheads almost touched. "Just be with me, please."

"Dinner... and conversation." Damien repeated, as if he was testing how the words felt in his mouth.

"Deal." Luna grinned. She turned toward her dresser and grabbed a silk robe.

Damien narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing?" he asked, already suspicious of her every innocent move.

"I want to go get us some dinner," she said nonchalantly, wrapping the robe around herself.

He stepped forward. He reached out and gently tugged the robe from her hands. "Hold on a minute."

She stilled.

There was a strange kind of silence between them then.

He didn’t move. Didn’t touch her. Just stood there looking at her.

His fingers twitched. He could reach for her, pull her close, claim her. But wounds still too fresh held him back.

Luna saw it—the war behind his eyes, the silent questions, the restraint. Her heart squeezed. Guilt and love braided together inside her chest.

"I won’t stop you, Damien. Never again."

Still, he didn’t move.

So she did.

She stepped closer, slow and sure, and rose on her toes, her fingers resting lightly on his chest as if testing if this was real. "I’m all yours." Then she kissed him—softly.

Damien didn’t respond.

Her fingers moved to his buttons, undoing them slowly. One by one, she peeled away the layers of his shirt, her gaze never leaving his. Her eyes told him she was here for him.

Her hands slid across the expanse of his chest, fingertips brushing over familiar warmth. She leaned in and pressed her lips against his skin, letting her lips linger as if she could erase every ache he had carried alone.

She moved lower, instinct guiding her—well, instinct and a generous amount of advice from the marriage instructor. Her heart pounded so loudly in her chest it was a wonder he wasn’t wincing at the sound. But she didn’t falter.

Her fingers reached his belt, undoing the buckle with a gentle clink. She unzipped his pants, testing just how much she could push before he broke.

Still, Damien stood frozen—watching her. His eyes. They betrayed him. Hunger. Longing. Pain. Love.

And Luna knew.

He was waiting. Waiting to see if she’d run again.

Luna sank to her knees in front of him, her breath unsteady, her gaze steady as fire. She pulled down his trousers slowly. Her eyes flickered upward, watching his jaw clench, watching the twitch of his fingers at his side.

His erection sprang free, and for a moment, Luna just stared at him in awe.

Then she reached for him.

Her fingers wrapped around him. Every stroke was careful.

She didn’t know it, but she was already breaking him.

Damien stood, carved of willpower and stone, but even stone cracks under pressure. Especially when that pressure was Luna.

When she took the leap, her lips parting and her mouth closing over him, Damien shattered.

"F—Fuck!" he gasped, his entire body jerking with the force of it. It was the first time he’d moved since this sensual dance began. His hand shot to her hair instinctively, threading through the silky strands, to anchor himself. Because she had just sent him flying.

Luna, hearing the unfiltered pleasure in his voice, felt a thrill surge through her. A boldness she hadn’t known she possessed. She took him deeper, her head moving with growing confidence. It wasn’t perfect but goddess, she gave it her all.

Damien tilted his head back, eyes slamming shut as a hiss escaped his lips. For a second, he stared up at the ceiling. Then he looked back down at her, at the woman undoing him with nothing more than lips, heat, and that infernal fire in her eyes.

He wanted to be gentle. He really did. He wanted to take his time, kiss her slowly, show her how much he’d missed her with every aching second. But he had been starving for her.

And now, with her in front of him like this, he didn’t have the strength to play it slow.

His hips jerked once, involuntarily. She choked slightly, her hand flying to his thigh, but she didn’t pull away.

He panicked. "Come here," he rasped, guilt flashing across his face as he pulled her up, lifting her. He didn’t want to overwhelm her.