The heat in Luca's chest had become unbearable, a pressure building behind his ribs with every passing second, every flicker of Luna's tongue across her own lips, every soft sound she made.
He'd been holding back, trying to be patient, trying to let her set the pace—but patience had limits, and he'd reached his.
Suddenly he pulled back and Luna blinked in confusion.
She barely had time to process the change before his hands were on her skirt, bunching the fabric, finding the edge of her underwear beneath.
And he pulled.
Both garments slid sideways in one rough motion, baring her to the cool air, and Luna gasped, instinct slamming through her like a wave.
Her thighs snapped together, her hand flying back to cover herself, to hide what he'd revealed—
But Luca was faster.
His hands caught her knees, rough and insistent, and pulled. Her legs spread wide despite her efforts, despite the flush of mortification that burned across her cheeks and down her neck.
