The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Vivian’s POV

The sound of the shower stopped, the water ceasing its steady rhythm behind the door. My breath caught as Zaliver stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling around his tall frame like it didn’t want to let him go. A white towel hung low on his hips, clinging to him, leaving very little to the imagination. Beads of water trailed down his golden, sun-kissed skin, over his chest, his abs, vanishing into the edge of the towel.

I didn’t mean to stare, but my eyes drank him in like I was starving. Each powerful step he took toward me made my pulse race. There was a flicker of annoyance on his face at first, but it softened the closer he came. And Goddess help me, the way that towel clung to him... it was a miracle I remembered how to breathe.

My lower belly tightened, heat curling in me as I bit down on my lip, caught up in the sheer presence of him. He was so confident in his body, his strength. My fingers ached to follow the trail of droplets as they journeyed down the ridges of his stomach.

"Vivian?"

His voice broke through my haze, but it took me a beat too long to answer. "Hmm?"

I was too busy tracing the light trail of hair below his navel with my eyes, mesmerized by where it disappeared.

I bet it keeps going... my wolf purred, her voice dripping with mischief, sending a delicious shiver through me.

"Vivian." He said my name again, slower this time. The way it rolled off his tongue had my heart skipping a beat. I met his gaze and was startled by the mix of surprise and something playful dancing in his eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like you’re about to "

I didn’t let him finish. I didn’t even think. My body moved before my brain could catch up. One second I was sitting there, the next I was launching myself at him, driven by a raw, aching need that I couldn’t hold back anymore. It was like this realization hit me all at once that this man, this impossibly powerful creature, was mine, and I needed to touch him, to taste him, before I lost my chance.

He caught me with ease, his strength grounding us. I threw my arms around his neck, angled his head with determination, and kissed him like my life depended on it.

Instead of being caught off guard, Zaliver groaned deep in his chest a sound that reverberated through me and pulled me tightly against him. His arms slid down my back, firm hands cupping my ass before gripping the backs of my thighs and lifting me clean off the ground. I gasped, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.

My dress clung to his damp skin, but I couldn’t care less. He started moving, slow and sure, walking us toward the bed. Our mouths never parted. It was wild, frantic, the kind of kiss that felt like it could unravel the world. Like if we stopped, the earth might just tip off its axis.

His hair was still wet, and my fingers tangled in it, tugging him closer every time I felt him pull away. Every time I did, he answered with a teasing nip to my lips that made me moan softly, made my toes curl.

By the time we reached the bed, I was practically trembling. Zaliver laid me down carefully, his body following mine. He was hovering above me, mouth hot and demanding, hands strong and possessive, when suddenly... he paused.

Everything slowed.

He pulled back just slightly, eyes locked on mine. Then another kiss. And another. Gentle, soft like he was trying to calm something in both of us.

And then he pulled away completely, sitting back with a sudden, jerky motion like he had to physically remove himself from me.

I stared up at him, breathless and confused, lips tingling and body on fire.

He was breathing hard, chest rising and falling, like he was holding something back. Something fierce.

And I could still feel the ghost of his lips on mine.

He looked down at me, jaw clenched, eyes heavy with want. The tension between us was palpable, thick enough to wrap around my shoulders like another blanket. It was obvious he didn’t want to stop so why had he?

Propping myself up on my elbows, I stared up at him, a goofy, content smile tugging at my lips. I felt... still. Warm. Like I’d just surfaced from a dream soaked in heat and yearning. The fire between us hadn’t gone out it simply smoldered now, soft and satisfied for the moment.

"I’d love to continue this," Zaliver said, voice low and rough, "but your parents are about to walk through the front gate."

That snapped me out of my haze like a splash of ice water.

"What?" I squeaked, heart jumping into a full sprint.

I bolted upright, my hands flying to smooth down my rumpled dress. My hair was probably a mess, my lips swollen, and my entire being still buzzing from the intensity of our kiss. Meanwhile, Zaliver stood there, completely unbothered, towel barely hanging on and smirk playing at the edge of his mouth.

Heat rushed to my face as I remembered the way I’d launched myself at him like a feral thing. Goddess, I’d attacked him and judging by the very prominent situation under his towel, he hadn’t minded one bit.

I tried my best not to stare, but he wasn’t making it easy. He didn’t even attempt to hide his arousal. The man had absolutely no shame.

I adjusted the bottom hem of my dress with shaky fingers, smoothing it down with fast little pats. When I pulled my hand back, it was damp. Confused, I looked down and realized my dress had little droplets on it.

"You got me all wet!" I groaned, glaring at him like it was somehow his fault, even though I’d been the one who attacked him like a starved animal.

Zaliver choked. Literally choked.

"What?" I asked, startled, taking a step toward him.

He shook his head, laughter spilling from his lips in deep, rolling waves. I blinked at him, confused, until he finally managed to speak between chuckles.

"Well, I’m glad," he said, smug as hell.

My brows knitted together in confusion. "Why would you be gla "

And then it hit me.

Oh. My. Goddess.

My words. I replayed them in my head and my face went nuclear. My eyes went wide with horror. "Wait! No! No! That’s not what I meant!"

His grin widened, so unbearably pleased with himself.

"Sure, it’s not." He winked, then turned and sauntered toward the closet, whistling like he hadn’t just crushed my dignity underfoot.

I stared at his back, half mortified, half tempted to throw a pillow at him.

But before I could do anything, the doorbell rang.

I froze, my breath catching. My parents.

Part of me wanted to sprint down the stairs and wrap myself in the safety of their arms. The other part? It wanted to turn around and climb right back into Zaliver’s.

With a frustrated huff, I spun toward the bedroom door. "Don’t take too long," I tossed over my shoulder.

"I won’t," he called out, amusement thick in his voice.

Mortification clung to me like static.

Why? Why did my brain have to pick that exact moment to blurt something completely innocent in the least innocent way? Why couldn’t I just once sound like a normal person and not a walking innuendo?

Goddess help me I was never living this down.

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