Page 71 of Stalk Me

“Come inside?” I ask, standing and offering him my hand. The request is simple, but the intention behind it isn’t. For once, I’m not running from intimacy—I’m choosing it.

Erik follows me into the apartment, the balcony door sliding shut behind us. Our living room is warm and inviting, with books stacked on every available surface and a worn leather couch that has become my safe place on many difficult nights.

I turn to face him, heart racing but mind clear. “I want to be with you tonight,” I say, the words coming easier than I expected. “Fully. If you want that too.”

Understanding dawns in his eyes. “Are you sure?” he asks. Even though we’ve had sex few times before, we both know what I’m offering this time is different. “We don’t have to rush anything.”

“I’m sure.” I step closer, eliminating the careful distance he always maintains. “I’ve spent my whole life with people taking what they wanted from me. I want to know what it’s like to give myself to someone I choose.”

Erik’s breath catches. “Luna…”

“I know it might be complicated,” I continue, needing him to understand. “I might panic, or cry, or need to stop. But I trust you. And I want this. I want you.”

He cups my face in his hands, his touch reverent. “We’ll go as slow as you need. And we can stop anytime—just say the word.”

“I know.” And I do know, with a certainty that still surprises me after years of having my boundaries ignored and violated. Erik would never hurt me. Erik would never push. Erik sees me—really sees me—and loves what he sees.

I rise on tiptoe to kiss him, my hands finding his shoulders for balance. Unlike our previous kisses, tentative and careful, this one deepens immediately. Heat flares between us, familiar yet different—because this time, I’m not pulling away. This time, I’m leaning in.

“Bedroom?” Erik whispers against my lips.

I nod, letting him lead me down the short hallway to the room. Moonlight streams through the curtains, bathing everything in silver. Erik stops by the bed, his hands gentle on my waist.

“Can I—” he starts to ask.

“Yes,” I interrupt, tired of fear, tired of hesitation. “Whatever you’re asking, yes.”

He smiles, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I was going to ask if I could turn on the lamp.”

“Oh.” I laugh, embarrassed. “Yes, that too.”

The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminates his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the curve of his lips. I’ve never truly allowed myself to look at him like this, to appreciate how beautiful he is—not just physically, but in the way his eyes reflect every emotion, holding nothing back from me.

He pulls me close, his breath warm against my skin as he lowers his mouth to mine. His kiss is slow, unhurried, the pressure tender and searching. He could devour me at this moment—I could devour him—but neither of us is interested in power games. All we want is this—to be with each other, to have each other, to be vulnerable with someone we trust.

Erik’s fingers trace my spine through the thin material of my shirt, sending shivers of sensation dancing along my nerves. The familiar warmth unfurls in my core, even stronger now that I’ve finally given in to the attraction, desire and trust that have been building between us since the very first night we met.

This isn’t an exchange; it isn’t payment for anything. It’s just us, laying our damaged pieces in the moonlight and trusting each other to hold them.

Erik breaks the kiss, his eyes seeking mine. “How are you feeling?”

The question takes me by surprise. No one has ever cared about my feelings—my responses, my opinions, sure, but never my emotions. I laugh, slightly breathless. “Surprisingly good. It’s nice… being able to feel everything for a change.”

His brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“When it wasn’t my choice, when it was someone else telling my body what to do, I couldn’t feel anything,” I say, surprised at the steadiness of my voice. “I would shut down, disassociate from it. It made it bearable, I suppose.”

“And now?”

“Now…” I smile, because I don’t know what else to do with the love burning inside me like a wildfire. “Now, I feel everything. And it’s beautiful.”

Understanding softens his features. “God, Luna, I?—”

I cover his mouth with mine, silencing him. “I know,” I murmur. “And I feel the same way.”

There will be more talks about the nature of this relationship and the challenges that stand in our way. But none of that matters right now. What matters is this. What matters is us.

Erik slips his arms beneath my shirt, fingers brushing my skin like he can’t touch me fast enough. As his hands skim up my back, the fabric follows, trapping my arms above my head. I help him pull the shirt over my head, relishing the freedom of feeling his body against mine.

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