"Only a grown-up can feel the way I feel right now," he said quietly.
"How?" Luna asked innocently, a slow smile playing on her lips. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity, daring him to elaborate.
Without a word, Damien pulled her hand lower, guiding it along the front of his pants, letting her feel the undeniable evidence of his arousal. Luna's eyes widened in surprise. She yanked her hand away as if burned, cheeks blooming a rosy pink.
"Be nice," she warned, half-laughing, half-scolding, the lightness in her tone barely masking the heat spreading through her.
"I am always nice," Damien retorted smoothly, clearing his throat as if to regain some semblance of dignity. "But I think it's better you run every time you feel that pull."
He paused. "I think it's safer if you pull away from me because when you eventually give in to the bond—to what we both feel—that will be the day you conceive. So keep running, my Moonlight. Keep running."
