Page 139 of His to Hunt

My mouth finds the soft skin of her throat, her collarbone, the spot behind her ear that always makes her gasp. She shudders beneath me, thighs tightening around my waist in a silent, desperate plea.

More.

Harder.

Don't stop.

"You feel that?" I whisper against her neck. "That's how you know it's real. That you're safe. That you're mine."

Every kiss. Every thrust. Every inch of her dragging against every inch of me builds something fierce between us—raw and consuming and sacred as sin.

"Look at me," I whisper, voice barely steady as I edge closer to falling apart. "I want to see you when you fall."

Her eyes lock with mine, wide and vulnerable and burning with something that splits me in two. Trust. Devotion. A surrender I didn't ask for—but she's giving me anyway.

We don't break eye contact. Not when I start fucking her harder. Not when her nails bite into my shoulders. Not whenour bodies start chasing something ancient, inevitable, and holy.

"You're everything," I breathe, barely holding on. "You're everything, Luna."

When she falls apart, it's with a cry that sounds like a vow—her entire body trembling, her cunt clenching around my cock like she's claiming me from the inside out.

I slam into her once, twice—then spill deep inside her with a groan that's all hunger and heartbreak. My body jerks with it, each pulse of cum claiming her from the inside out. And she fucking takes it—arching for more, gasping like my name is her gospel.

Her voice is soft, nearly broken as she murmurs,

"I don't want to let go."

Like the moment my arms leave her, everything might fall apart.

I don't say anything. I just hold her closer and let my silence make the promise for me, her head resting on my chest, her breath warm against my skin. My fingers trace lazy shapes along her back, grounding both of us. Our bodies still tangled, still joined—like if I let go now, it might all unravel.

"I've got you," I whisper into her hair. "No one's ever touching you again. Not without going through me."

And I won't risk losing this. Not now. Not ever.

"So," she says after a while, her voice soft with contentment. "Partners."

I press a kiss to the top of her head, smiling against her hair. "Partners."

"I like that better," she murmurs, fingers drawing abstract patterns on my chest.

"So do I," I admit, surprising myself with how true it feels.

She props herself up on one elbow, studying my face in thedim light. "You know, for someone who built his entire persona around control, you're adapting remarkably well to equality."

I reach up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Maybe I was always waiting for someone worth adapting for."

Her smile is soft, genuine, reaching her eyes in a way that makes my chest ache with something dangerously close to perfect happiness. "Or maybe," she suggests, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to my lips, "you were always more than the control you clung to. Just waiting for someone to see it."

As she settles against me, warm and trusting, I finally understand.

What started as possession turned into permission.

She chose me.

And in her choice, I found something I'd spent a lifetime pretending I didn't need.

Her. Us.

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