Luna wasn’t sure when it happened, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that she was now very much aware of Kit. Not because he was constantly around—rather, she started to notice more about him other than the fact that he was the brother of the man that bought her freedom.

She noticed the way his smile started in one corner of his mouth until spreading across his face—or even how his eyes crinkled when he did.

And as days and weeks passed her by, she thought less and less of where she had been, and more about the man she was currently under the care of.

Luna was careful not to change her behavior around him, though she sometimes realized too late that she was staring.

Worse, he always caught her.

But, thankfully, he had never called her on it—though she was sure there were a few times that she saw a hint of a smile on his face.

“What are thinking about?” Fang asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Though he was usually off with Aidra or doing something for Kit, today he was with her for training.

Luna had long since stopped questioning who would be training her on what day. For the most part, Kit spent more hours than he didn’t with her whether in the gym, target practice, or whatever else he could think of.

Maybe that was another reason why she couldn’t stop thinking about him—he was always there.

“Nothing,” she answered, pushing herself up to a sitting position, wiping sweat off her forehead.

Though he was the friendliest, he seemed determined to work her to death inside the gym. Physical exercise seemed to be his favorite as he moved her from a treadmill, to pushups, just before he had her propped on her side, keeping her body parallel to the ground.

“Don’t worry,” Fang said popping to his feet. “Boss will be back tonight.”

“I wasn’t—” Luna was quick to deny, but Fang raised a hand at her.

“Aidra gets that look on her face when she thinks of me.”

“And what look is that, exactly?”

He cleared his throat, the corner of his lips tugging as though he were fighting a smile. “Usually when we’re about to fuck.”

“No!” Luna said a little too loudly. “That wasn’t what I was thinking about at all.”

Even if she had, she wouldn’t be thinking about that around Fang. Especially around Fang. Of the four, he seemed to be the most blunt when he spoke.

Since the other three weren’t as open, it was all the more clear that they avoided certain topics with her—they were being considerate of her traumas. She had been thankful at first, but then she had wanted them to treat her as they would anyone else.

Fang was the first to comply, though she learned all too quickly that it may not have been her best idea. It seemed his goal was to make her blush.

And usually, he accomplished that.

“Bit rude, no?” Fang asked as he tossed a towel over his shoulder. “Here I am putting in all the work and you’re thinking about another man.”

“By work, you mean making me hate your existence?”

She had spent the last two hours down in this basement working out with him and he took it entirely too serious. By morning, every muscle in her body was going to be sore.

Fang scoffed. “I’ve been going easy on you.”

“This is what you consider easy?”

“Of course—right now I’m not trying to kill you. This is the easiest you’ll ever have it.”

Sometimes, Fang had a habit of getting serious when she least expected it—like whatever switch inside of him that kept that smile on his face turned off for a moment. Not for the first time, she wondered about him—about the others as well.

They were all so close, the four of them, yet they all seemed just a little bit broken.

As quickly as she thought the mood had sobered, Fang was smiling again. “Unless you ask Aidra—I think her answer would be different.”

“I think I’ll pass.”

He laughed in good humor, then motioned for her to resume her earlier position.

After another hour of squats, weights, and overall sweat-inducing activities, he finally deemed their work done and let her go. Now, the only thing she wanted was a shower and a bed.

---

Luna came awake with a jolt, clutching sheets in her sweaty hands as she waited for her heart to stop racing. Once she was finally sure she was, in fact, alone in her bed, she laid back with a groan, trying to ignore the way her legs were quivering.

It was the third night this week that she’d woke with a start. They all ended at the same point, playing like a loop in her head that refused to stop.

And worse, it always featured the same person—Kit.

She wasn’t sure when the change had happened—when she had started looking at Kit as anything more than a temporary handler—but the moment it had, Kit had started playing a starring role in her dreams.

They were all innocent at first. Just a kiss, coupled with that charming half-smile of his that made her acutely aware of her gender. Those had only made her blush when she actually saw him, whether for training or just around the château.

But that innocence had quickly shifted to something else that she hadn’t wanted to consider at first. The stroke of his fingers across her skin, or his lips trailing along her jaw.

She didn’t know where the thoughts had come from—and she had to have been thinking them since they had manifested themselves in her dreams—but once they were there, she couldn’t get rid of them.

Even that she could handle because she knew it wasn’t real. She had never felt his lips on her, so it was easy enough to differentiate between the Kit who starred in her dreams, and the one she saw almost daily.

But she had felt his hands—she knew his touch like she knew her own—and the moment he’d touched her, the two versions of him blended.

Now, any time he touched her, she was reminded of illicit thoughts she couldn’t escape. Day after day, and night after night, she had begun to crave his touch, wanting him to make her feel alive.

Luna tried to avoid him, but even she couldn’t manage that for long—not when she had begun to miss the feel of his rough hands.

For the last week, however, he’d been gone away from the château, attending to whatever it was that he did, while she had remained behind. Not a day had gone by that she didn’t think about him—that she didn’t miss him—and before she realized it, her desire for him had grown until her dreams had taken her well beyond the realms of innocence.

Dragging in a ragged breath, Luna slid out of bed, walking over to the en suite bathroom to splash water on her face. A glance in the mirror revealed flushed skin and wild eyes.

Cat had told her about desire once, that she’d felt it before—back when she was free to choose the partners she went to bed with. Sometimes, she had said, she felt it even when she was with a nice client because they treated her better than most.

Sexual desire was not something she thought she would ever feel, not after her time spent with Lawrence. Once she was free of there, she hadn’t wanted to even think about being with a man, but she couldn’t deny she was feeling it toward Kit.

He was just … different.

He was strong, but he never tried to use that strength to hurt her, but rather to teach her.

Luna was returning to bed when she heard the slight creak of the floor above her.

Kit’s room.

No one ventured in there when he wasn’t home, especially this late at night, so that could only mean one thing—Kit was back.

The desire to see him overrode common sense as she stepped out of her room without completely thinking it through first.

Not once in the almost year she had been living there had Luna ever seen the inside of Kit’s bedroom. She knew where it was, of course, thanks to Uilleam’s attempt at a tour when she’d first arrived, but there had never been a reason for her to go in.

Usually, he could be found in his office, or the media room where Aidra worked. Never his room.

His door looming ahead of her, her nerves kicked up with every step she took. Would he be upset that she was there, Luna wondered as she raised a fist to knock and found the door slightly ajar.

But she didn’t just open it, still knocking even as she pushed the door open.

As she got her first eyeful of Kit’s bedroom, she was surprised to find it wasn’t anything like she expected, but it fit him still. She took in every bit of the open space, wondering if he’d had to knock down a few walls to make it as big as it was. It almost felt like his room took up the entire second level.

Unlike the rest of the château that was decorated with rich, warm shades, the walls and nearly every piece of furniture in Kit’s room was black, including the massive four-poster bed that stood on the other side of the room, though the sheets and duvet that were messy and undone were the purest of white.

Already, she liked it.

There was a giant trunk resting in front of the bed, one that looked big enough to hide a body inside. A symbol was burned into the lid—a bird that reminded her of the tattoo spanning his back. A heavy padlock was attached as well, making her wonder what was inside that he was keeping so private.

A fire was burning, the only light in the entire room. Suddenly, she felt like she was intruding, especially when she didn’t see any sign of Kit.

Maybe she could just walk right back out with no one being the wiser. She could pretend as if this had never happened at all.

She was about to do just that when a throat cleared behind her. Spinning in a flurry, an apology was at the tip of her tongue until she realized it was Kit behind her, and he wasn’t wearing anything but a towel.

Could she even call that a towel? It was small, smaller than it should have been all things considered, but as quickly as she thought about him being nearly naked, her mind caught up with the rest of her and decided he was wearing too much.

His hair was still wet, water dripping from the strands onto the floor. In fact, he was still wet all over as though he had just climbed out of the shower.

It wasn’t like this was the first time she had seen him partially dressed—they trained together, after all—but during those times, there had been something else had distracted her.

Now, there was nothing but Kit.

Kit’s torso was solid, like someone had molded each indentation that formed the hard ridges of his abdomen and muscle that covered him from head to toe. A light dusting of hair covered his pectorals, then down the center of his abdomen and further still until the trail was cut off by the towel.

He was gorgeous in a way that had her staring unabashedly. It wasn’t until she looked at his face did she realize he was staring at her with an amused smile on his lips.

There was no point in pretending she hadn’t been looking him over, drinking in everything she could, so instead she tried to think of something quick to say to divert his attention, but her brain chose that moment to fail her.

“Would you like me to lose the towel?”

Luna flushed with embarrassment, quickly shaking her head though she was screaming the opposite in her head.

“Shame,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. “A moment, then.”

He disappeared around the corner and couldn’t have been gone more than a minute before he was back without his towel, but in a pair of loose fitting joggers and a shirt, but that did nothing to lessen his appeal.

This time when he came out, it was his turn to study her, and he did it in a way that was blatant and unapologetic. She didn’t think, in all the time she had been there that he had ever looked at her quite so intently.

Like he was seeing her for the first time.

And after a moment, Luna understood why. Glancing down at herself, she only now remembered that she was wearing one of the satin and lace rompers Aidra had insisted she get.

Luna had thought they were pretty, sure, but Kit seemed to think more than that.

Kit came closer, so close that she could smell the fresh scent of his skin. “Have you brought me a gift, mi pequeña luna?”

The gravelly words shot right down her spine. Besides English, she rarely heard him speak anything other than Welsh, which she didn’t understand half the time.

But Spanish … never with anyone but her.

It amazed her how he was able to make even that feel special.

“What kind of gift would I be giving?” she asked looking up at him, feeling the heat of his body through his clothes from his closeness.

He smiled, as though her answer pleased him. “Not one I deserve.”

The door clicked shut, and she realized belatedly that that was why he was so close, but even as he took a step back to give her room to breathe, his room felt smaller all of a sudden with the door closed.

She looked from it to him, but misunderstanding her expression, he said, “It’s not locked.”

“And I don’t want to leave,” she returned, just as soft.

He tucked loose strands of her hair behind her ear. “Then stay.”

With an invitation like that …

Deciding she had nothing to lose, she walked further into the room, taking up residence on the settee across the room.

Everything was neat in Kit's bedroom, orderly. Not a thing out of place save his rumpled bedsheets. It all kind of reminded her of him.

She wondered if he was the one who kept it like this, or if he had it cleaned daily. As private as he seemed, she didn’t think he would enjoy people touching his personal items, but as she took another cursory look around, there really wasn’t anything personal about the space.

Sure, there were a few paintings hung, and a few odd knickknacks resting on shelves, but it was all rather monochromatic.

It all seemed rather … empty.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked as he came to sit across from her, plucking a glass from the set on the small coffee table beside the chair.

“You,” she said, then quickly clarified when he smiled, “well, your room.”

“Oh? What are your thoughts?”

“Seems rather impersonal.”

“A force of habit, I suppose.”

A silver tray topped with a pair of tumblers and a decanter full of whiskey sat off to his right. He poured a couple of fingers worth before tipping the glass to his lips and downing it. Then, he poured another.

“Rough night?” she asked, watching the muscles in his throat work as he swallowed.

“A part of the job, I’m afraid.”

“Is that where you’ve been?”

His smile was slow and steady. “Did you miss me, Luna?”

She was suddenly glad there was distance between them because she was sure he would have seen her blush had they been any closer.

“I was curious,” she said, though it sounded like a lie even to her own ears.

“And was there anything else you were curious about?” he asked, his tone thoughtful as though there was more to his question.

Everything.

She wanted to know everything there was to know about him—including whether her fantasy lived up to reality. “Where do you go when you leave?”

“Depends on the job.”

“As the facilitator, right?” That was what he was called. “What does it mean to facilitate?”

“I offer a service,” Kit answered. “If there’s something you need, I can find the person to provide it.”

“Similar to your brother, then?”

His mouth twisted at the mention of Uilleam. “In a way. To put it in simple terms, he manipulates events—his work is with people. A constant game of chess with the pawns being people, if you will. I, on the other hand, acquire what’s unattainable. Jewels, people, and anything else you can think of.”

“That sounds—”

“Interesting?”

“Slightly terrifying,” she finished.

His brows rose up. “How so?”

“That’s like saying your brother tells someone which bank to rob because he knows they won’t get caught, and you provide the weaponry to ensure they get away with it.”

His smile was pleased. “Precisely.”

Luna shook her head. “I would hate to be on the opposing side of the two of you.”

“He and I don’t often do work together—we rarely see eye-to-eye on most matters.”

Luna nodded. “Because of the personality differences.”

She had only been around Uilleam for a short time, not even a full day, but she could see that he wasn’t nearly as serious as his brother. That didn’t mean he wasn’t feared—she could see it in the way people acted when he was around—the threat was just different.

“Some would say so, yes.” He finished his drink, setting the glass down. “How’s your training coming?”

Figuring he was tired of talking about himself, she didn’t call him on the subject change. “Good.”

Not only did she feel stronger, but she looked it as well. The change hadn’t happened over night—not when she had years to make up for—but eating three times a day, sometimes more, had done wonders in helping her put on weight. Her complexion was better, and she no longer cringed when she caught sight of her reflection.

She felt almost … normal.

Sitting up a little straighter, and recrossing her legs, Luna didn’t miss the way Kit’s gaze dropped, riveted to the movement.

The romper she’d put on for bed hadn’t been with him in mind, but now she was glad she picked it—though it was the more modest of everything Aidra had bought.

“Did you think of me while I was gone?” he asked suddenly, catching her off guard. “Good thoughts, I hope.”

“I guess—maybe a little,” she amended, though that wasn’t true either.

She had thought of him often.

“Then your thoughts of me have changed,” Kit said.

“What makes you think that?”

“You wouldn’t be here right now if they hadn’t.”

He watched her from the moment she got to her feet until she was standing before him, hands by her side. No one looked at her the way Kit did—as though she was the only thing in the world worth beholding.

He made her feel special without even trying—like she was more than just a victim. When he looked at her, she didn’t feel like the girl Lawrence had used and abused for years.

Before she even had a mind to do it, Luna was on her feet and closing the distance between them, feeling Kit’s gaze boring down on her the closer she came. She wasn’t thinking clearly, not when she was shortening the distance between them as though she were invited.

His expression was always so guarded that even now she couldn’t tell whether her presence before him was welcome or not, but he hadn’t turned away, nor had he asked her to leave.

Instead, his hands had formed fists at his sides, the muscles taut in his arms. “Give me permission.”

How could three little words cause such a storm of emotion inside of her? She didn’t play coy, she knew what he was really asking and the implications behind it.

He had always told her he would get her consent before he ever laid a hand on her, even in the most innocent of ways.

But this time, his touch wouldn’t be quite so innocent.

Luna didn’t care how, she didn’t even care where, she was just ready for the moment when the feel of his hands would replace those that had come before him.

Emboldened by her desire for him, she set a knee on one side of him, then the other until she was straddling his lap and her hands had fallen to his shoulders to keep her balance.

Looking down at him, feeling the tension in his body, Luna wanted him to kiss her more than anything in the world.

She thought of telling him this, but instead, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his, her eyes closing as she did. There was a moment—just a moment—where she felt unsure of what he would do next, but before she could feel awkward at all, he was kissing her back with a passion that took her breath away.

She could taste the whiskey on his lips, the sharp bite of alcohol only fueling the fire she felt for him.

There was no fear.

No anxiety as she’d expected.

There was nothing but her and Kit giving in to a desire she had long been denying.

Though she was the one to kiss him, he quickly took control, his hand coming up to gently delve in her hair as he tilted her head the way he wanted to take her mouth better.

But she didn’t want gentle from him.

She could feel the tension—the restraint he was using to keep himself in check. She wanted everything he had to offer.

Pulling away just far enough that she could speak, Luna whispered, “You won’t break me, Kit.”

She had only meant that he didn’t have to hold back with her—that he could give in to the need that he was feeling—but at her words, a shudder seemed to work through him as the hand that wasn’t tangled in her hair fell to her waist and squeezed tight.

“Oh, but I want to.” He trailed kisses along her jaw as he continued, “I want to break you in the best possible way.”

To emphasize his point, he first traced a path over the pulse point in her neck with his lips, then his tongue, and finally with his teeth, the sharp sting enough to make the coiling desire in the pit of her stomach flare hotter.

“Then show me what you want to do to me,” she answered.

One minute she was still in his lap, the next he was on his feet still holding her as he walked them over to his bed.

Gingerly lowering her down, the cool brush of silk sheets beneath her were nothing compared to the furnace that was Kit as he held himself above her.

Luna tunneled her fingers through his hair, holding him in place as he reclaimed her mouth with a vengeance. She could feel him everywhere, from the very tips of her toes to the roots of her hair.

This wasn't just desire, she thought—it was need.

And the more he kissed her, inspiring sounds in her she hadn’t thought she could ever make, the more that need grew until she was nearly begging him to take her clothes off.

Dragging her hands from his hair, she fisted his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before tossing it aside.

She had seen the magnificence of his chest on more than one occasion, but there was nothing like seeing it up close and personal to remind her of just how great he really was.

What she liked more were the scars that decorated his torso—the imperfections. Even someone as strong as him had once had to survive.

The difference between her outfit and his, for her, there was all or nothing.

Luna tried to quell the fissure of anxiety she felt as his fingers slowly moved to the straps of her romper and eased them off her shoulders as he shifted the topdown her body.

She was panting, the sound even louder in the silence of the room. Kit didn't seem to mind, too focused on getting her undressed.

When cool air kissed her hardened nipples, she sucked in a breath before exhaling on a moan as she felt his hands cover her breasts.

Knowing she was so exposed had her squeezing her eyes shut, but Kit wasn't having that.

“Look at me,” he ordered gently. “I want to learn what you like.”

Even he had to know that she didn't trust her own voice because his actions shifted whenever her expression did.

He gripped tighter until she was arching into him for more, and when his name fell from her lips, he dipped his head to take her nipple in his mouth, even as he plucked and toyed the other with deft fingers.

She was so sure she would never feel desire again, but the delicious ache between her thighs was telling her otherwise. Already she could feel her need for him pooling at the very heart of her, exactly where she could feel the hard ridge of his erection.

Her curiosity about that part of him was growing out of control—to the point that she reached between with shy, tentative fingers until she could feel him through the thin material of his pants.

A part of her had feared, even as far as they had gone, that he would remain unaffected by her, but there was no denying that she affected him.

And that knowledge thrilled her.

She was sure that this was everything she wanted and more until the second she felt his hand between her legs.

Faster than she thought possible, she grabbed his wrist and held, and glanced up at him when she felt him freeze.

“I’m—”

“Don’t,” he ordered, making sure she saw just how serious he was.

Don’t apologize.

But she wanted to because she was ruining this, even if he hadn’t said so.

---

Kit drew in a breath and held it.

He couldn’t think of a single time in his life when he had been so hard. His cock ached, but this couldn’t be rushed—even if the only thing he could think about was getting her naked.

He knew ghosts haunted her, and knew that it wasn’t going to be as easy breaking the hold those memories had over her.

It was one of the reasons why he had never planned to act on his feelings for her. She was too fragile.

Or at least she had been.

Kit had never expected that she would waltz into his room wearing next to nothing and a mischievous smile on her face, but she had.

That confidence aroused him, made him forget that he needed to go slow with her, but now that he felt her stiffen beneath him, his head came out of the fog.

“We can stop,” he said, drawing away from her, but this time she wasn’t grabbing him to prevent him from touching her further, but rather to keep him in place.

“It’s fine.”

“There’s no rush.”

“I’m not afraid of you!” she said in a rush. “It’s just—”

“When your body is conditioned for a certain response, it’s hard to break that,” he finished for her.

“I don’t want you to stop,” she said in a whisper, the words repeating themselves over and over in his head. “I want you. You. If there’s nothing else I’m sure of, I’m sure of that.”

Maybe if he were a stronger man, he would have denied her, sent her on and put it out of his mind—after another long and cold shower—but denying her felt like denying himself, and he just couldn’t do it.

“Watch me,” he said, gently extracting his wrist from her hold.

He had to be gentle with her, tread lightly until there was enough trust between them that she could handle it all. At the moment, his usual desires were tamer.

Because God, the things he wanted to do to her …

The urges nearly commanded his every thought when she was near, but he hadn’t broken just yet. Patience was a virtue and he excelled at it.

When she offered a short, almost hesitant dip of her chin, he made sure her eyes stayed on him as he brought his hand down on her upraised knee before winding it down her thigh.

He didn’t immediately go for her sex. No, he needed to make her lose herself first—get her to stop thinking.

First, he let her get used to the feel of his fingers on her, then he kissed her again. More and more, she relaxed beneath him until her legs were parting further on her own.

Very carefully, he eased her clothes down further, keeping her distracted until he had no choice but to back off to slide the garment off the rest of the way.

A tiny waist gave way to shapely hips and tan legs. Seeing her like that, spread before him like an offering … the glistening proof of her arousal bare for him to see—he wouldn’t last.

Hooking an arm around her waist, he moved her up the bed, even as he stayed on his knees where he was.

And when he pressed her legs open farther, and felt her tense, he pressed his lips to her instep.

“Just relax,” he said, keeping his tone light, even if he felt like he was about to go out of his mind.

Though she bit her lip, some of her tension eased.

By the time he made his way up to her sex, she was shaking, but he didn’t think it was from fear this time—rather anticipation.

Oh, but he could stare at her like this all night, and maybe once his need wasn’t so great and he could take his time showing her how great sex could be—he would show her just how many ways he could make her come in an hour’s time.

But for now …

Laying a hand flat on her stomach, he moved his mouth between her legs, her flavor exploding over his tongue. The shocked exhalation had heat rushing down his spine, but he focused on getting her wetter, following the cues of her body until he got what he wanted.

“Oh God,” she said in a heated rush, her fingers tunneling in his hair.

He welcomed the pain—fucking got off on it. Her clit was swollen and begging to be touched, the little bundle of nerves practically calling his name.

And the moment he drew his hand there, very carefully rolling his thumb over it, her hips came off the bed.

He teased her, tasted her, fucked her with his tongue until she was a writhing mess beneath him, his name spilling from her in increasing intervals.

He smiled as she gasped and shuddered, eyes squeezed shut as she rode a wave she had probably never experienced before.

It hit him then that he was giving her something no one else had, and he took much satisfaction in that thought.

“Kit, I—please …”

She probably didn’t even know what she was begging for, but he knew—the wonder he heard saturating her tone making him draw his thumb from her clit and replaced it with his mouth.

The second he flattened his tongue against it then sucked, she screamed.

But he didn’t want her to come like this—not when he wasn’t inside her.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait any longer.

Drawing away, he grabbed a condom, looking down at her, but there was no worry in her eyes—just the glazed look of need that told him he had her exactly where he wanted.

Shoving his own pants down his legs, he tore the foil packet open, then rolled the rubber down his cock until it was firmly in place.

When he was back between her legs, he paused once more, reading her expression. “I’ll be gentle with you,” he promised before he took his cock in hand, pumping it a few times to take the edge off.

Even if it fucking killed him, he would go easy on her.

“Ready?” he asked as he lined up with her entrance, already feeling the heat of her before he even got close.

When she gave a furtive nod, her gaze drawn down to where he had her spread, Kit eased inside of her, a curse already on his tongue as he felt just how fucking tight she was.

How it already felt like she was trying to suck him in without even trying.

Fuck, the only thing he wanted was to shove inside her and fuck her, but easy, he had to remember, even as her pussy was demanding he do anything but.

And when he finally slid home, seated so deep inside her that he could go no further, his own groan of satisfaction had her tightening around him in a way that robbed him of breath.

He wasn’t going to fucking last.

“Are you—”

“More,” she panted, eyes gone hazy again. “Give me more.”

Kit braced himself on his hands, shifting his hips back, then forward again, feeding his cock into her in gradual increments until her breathless moans sounded.

And when he felt her nails dig into the skin of his back, his control snapped.

On his next thrust, he didn’t attempt to temper it. He didn’t go easy. He slammed into her harder than he intended.

Then again.

And again.

Until he was fucking her the way he wanted.

Until he had her crying his name.

Kit was smiling as he dipped down to kiss her, flick his tongue against hers, swallowing every moan that clawed its way up her throat.

But that feeling was nothing, nothing, compared to the sudden tightening of her pussy around him. Pushing up, he shoved his hand between their bodies until he found her clit again and rubbed tight circles.

“Yes,” he groaned as she crested, “come for me—show me how good it feels.”

This time, when he felt that rush of heat run down him, he gave himself over to the sensations, coming so hard that he had to grit his teeth against the force of it.

Sweat dripped from his skin, an ease he hadn’t felt in a while settling over him, and when he looked down at Luna, there was no regret in her eyes.

No anxiety at what they had done.

She looked like she wanted more.