That was unbelievably hot.
The thick cerulean appendage flexed subtly against me, ending in a forked spike that looked dangerous enough to kill someone.
Instead, it held me like something cherished.
His chest rumbled again as my palms flattened instinctively against him.
Touching him felt addictive now.
Like my body had realized something important before my brain caught up.
“Your thoughts are loud, Luna,” he growled softly, tracing one finger from my brow to my chin.
I shivered hard.
“W-why did you kiss me?” I whispered.
I needed to hear it.
Needed to know this wasn’t pity or curiosity or some strange magical experiment.
“Did you not like it?”
“I did.” My voice came out breathless. “You know I did.”
“I did too,” he admitted, and the slow grin that followed nearly stopped my heart. “Very much.”
Gods.
That smile.
Beautiful and dangerous and entirely unfair.
“But we’ll take things slow,” he continued, voice gentler now. “At your pace.”
“My pace?” I repeated weakly. “Oh. Um. Right. Because of the project. The fake relationship.”
Even saying the word fake felt wrong now.
I licked my lips nervously.
His glowing cerulean eyes tracked the movement instantly.
Heat surged through me so sharply I had to clench my thighs together.
His nostrils flared slightly.
And suddenly I wondered—could he scent how badly I wanted him?
The thought nearly killed me.
I still didn’t fully know what he was.
Hobgoblin had been thrown around by that jerk Gunner. But that hardly explained the impossible gravity of his presence.
There was so much I didn’t know.
And somehow that only made me want him more.
