Jack’s brain was working overtime. His heart pumped blood so hard the thing had to be firing on all cylinders, just like the rest of his body. He felt something- raw, animalistic, perfect. He’d been so damn afraid of this his entire life, truly letting himself go, letting himself be. He’d been trained to understand that feeling anything meant the end of survival. The best way to remain alive on the streets of Detroit was to feel nothing at all.

The deluge of emotion that swept through his bloodstream was numbed out just a little by passion. The desire that unfurled in his stomach, spread to every single nerve ending and made him hard as a fucking rock cancelled out the panic in his brain. The urge to run and never look back. He still felt it. All those years of training didn’t just vanish in the blink of an eye. It was just that… Luna cut through it all. She cut through, like an arrow, straight to the heart of him.

The sensation was nearly overwhelming. The urge to feel. To let himself go and just let himself be.

Luna’s hand in his grounded him. She led him to the edge of her bed and waited, her eyes shining with anticipation. The need on her face was an aphrodisiac all on its own. Did she understand just what that look did to him? How the scent of her undid him? That clean, feminine, beautiful scent of her skin. That heady, womanly musk of desire beading at the juncture of her thighs. God, her sex was perfect. Hairless. Utterly captivating and thrilling and wholly beautiful.

Her body was covered in more ink than he’d ever seen on a woman. Not just her arms but above her breasts, below, her belly, her legs. It was somehow deeply sexy, knowing that she could withstand so much pain. That she wanted it. How many of those tattoos had she done to herself? His fingers itched to touch them, memorize them, learn every single detail.

He lowered his face back down to hers where those perfectly lush lips were open, parted just a fraction in invitation. God, if he kissed her for the rest of his life it wouldn’t be long enough. It was strange, he’d never truly cared about dying before. It was always a distinct possibility. The shadow of death. And then, even when he had money, he didn’t truly care. It was something he’d made peace with a long time ago. He was far more afraid of living.

Those lips, that kiss, her body made him want to. It made him want to experience the thrill of truly feeling, of truly being alive. He tasted her again, his hand moving automatically, instinctually, to caress her silken skin, the womanly curves that were so very different from his own body and so thrilling.

Jack was changed, transformed, into something he had always wanted to be. He understood for the first time in his existence, what it meant to truly become one with another person. To find a plane of connection so sacred it could never exist until just the right moment, with the right person.

He closed his eyes and lost himself. Their kiss transformed, becoming deeper, restless. His hand dipped between her legs, slid through the silky wetness of her to stroke and explore her folds. He’d never touched a woman like this before, but it was so automatic, the desire to bring her pleasure. He caressed her gently, circling the tight little bud of her clit before moving away, gathering her sweet nectar on his finger before making another pass.

She moaned, gasped, panted against his lips and he drank all her sounds in, swallowed them down his own throat, deep into his belly. His erection was so damn hard it drilled into her stomach painfully as she arched against him.

Their teeth clashed as he lowered them both to the bed. He was gentle with her, careful to keep his weight off of her as he spread himself over her. The drive to pleasure her, protect her, join with her, overrode his hesitation again.

He palmed himself, broke the kiss. “Do you have a condom?”

“No,” she whispered. “Why would I? It’s not exactly like I planned this.” She blushed deeply, the pink on her cheeks so fucking sexy. “I haven’t done this in a long time.”

“I… do you want me to stop?”

“No. I mean…” Luna’s blush darkened. “I mean, I’m clean. If you’re okay with it too then… just… I’m on the pill. It helps with… female pains.”

“Alright.” It was such an inadequate thing to say. That one word, but Jack had always been shit with words. Her own sudden shy awkwardness only tied his tongue in knots.

Luna wriggled against him, underneath of him, her pelvis arching up to meet his, aching, searching. His cock was so damn hard it was beyond painful. He thought of the relief her body would bring, the beautiful release they could find in each other.

“Please,” Luna whispered. Her voice was breathy, panting. It stirred something raw, animal, visceral deep inside Jack. He wanted to give her what she so desperately needed. The truth was, he needed it so damn badly himself.

He palmed himself again, found her opening, slick and swollen with desire. He surged forward in a hot rush, joining them. Luna’s hands tangled behind his neck, moved to his shoulders. Her fingers dug in, her nails biting the tender flesh. Her long, shapely legs wrapped around him so very sweetly, erotically.

Jack buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaled that wondrous, clean scent that was all hers. He thrust forward, withdrew slowly. Ground his teeth against the urge to come already. God, she was so very tight. Warm and wet, she gripped him, held him deep inside herself, took every single inch of an erection that wasn’t small. He stretched her and her body accommodated him.

His blood boiled, his entire body straining, his skin too tight. Beads of sweat formed and rolled down his forehead, down his face.

He thrust harder, the rhythm changing. She clung to him, both legs wrapped around his waist, taking him deeper than before. She was so perfect, so pure, so incredibly beautiful. And she’d chosen him.

Jack had been high a couple times in his life before he decided that shit wasn’t for him. He felt like that now. Like he was floating, leaving his body, yet the physical sensations driving through him, so foreign, so incredible, grounded him at the same time.

Jolts of electricity, hard desire, pure erotic need, tore through him with every single movement. Luna moaned beneath him, writhed against him, ground herself into him as she sought the same desperate release they both climbed towards.

He couldn’t make himself move slowly. He pistoned into her, pumping harder, driven forward by her excited breaths, her moans of passion, the eager response of her body.

He captured her lips again just as he felt her tense. She writhed under him, her scream of pleasure stolen by his mouth. He drank her expression of pleasure down his throat. It was sweet and heady. Her passage tightened with her climax, the shivers gripping him hard.

Jack could finally let go. He surged forward in one long, hard thrust, spilling himself deep inside of her in warm, hot spurts.

He all but collapsed against her, rolling off to the side at the last second. His face was turned so he could still see her. The wondrous rapture sparkling in her emerald eyes perfectly reflected the way he felt.

For once, probably the first time in his life, the urge to flee this… this connection, this wondrous giving of a soul he wasn’t even sure he had, to another person, was silent. No, the only thing he wanted to do was lie here next to her and come down from the incredible high he’d found before he wrapped her up in his arms and started it all over again.

He knew then, as she blinked slowly, the passionate haze still heady in her eyes, that there was never going to be a security detail. Luna was his. His to discover, explore, his to connect with, soar with. And above all, his to protect. He would keep her safe.

Jack had never been truly afraid of dying but he understood, in that moment, why people were. He’d just met her, but already he couldn’t imagine ever leaving Luna.