Author’s pov
Let’s get one thing clear: Alpha Sebastian didn’t just kiss - he launched a full-scale campaign.
If kissing were an Olympic sport, he would be aiming for a gold, and a world record.
His kiss came with a warning label that may cause spontaneous memory loss, temporary inability to stand upright, and a strong desire to make questionable decisions.
Cecilia had thought she was signing up for a lakeside stroll and maybe some flirty banter. Instead, she found herself pressed up against pure temptation in tailored black, his scent a heady cocktail.
And she was all in.
She tried to murmur something that maybe resembled a protest - probably something responsible like "Wait" or "We should talk" - but all that came out was a weak exhale that he promptly captured and turned into the next act of whatever dark romance novel he was currently starring in.
Somewhere deep inside, her rational brain flailed like a car alarm in the distance. But the rest of her? Fully subscribed and auto-renewed.
One hand tangled in her hair, the other slid down to her waist with surgical precision, and - God help her - found the clasp of her bra like he’d mapped it out in advance.
Every kiss that trailed down her jaw, her neck, her collarbone left a trail of heat so potent she briefly believed in reincarnation, just to come back and do this again.
Her brain was fried.
She fought back the only way she could, by yanking his stupidly perfect hair and biting his bottom lip.
Alpha Sebastian didn’t back off. He growled softly like a warning or a promise.
She slid her hand under his shirt, fingertips skating across warm, solid muscle and the kind of abs that made you rethink every carb you ever loved.
She didn’t know if she was seducing him or just trying to keep her balance on a metaphorical emotional rollercoaster.
And just as her pulse broke the sound barrier, he stopped her.
Alpha Sebastian, in full dominant mode, caught her wrist with a grip that was gentle but final. The kind of touch that said, "I could, but I won’t. Not yet."
He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon uphill in boots and secrets.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, his jaw clenched, every inch of him screamed restraint.
In another timeline, they’d have gone full scandal. There’d be grainy photos, headlines, maybe a podcast.
But in this one, he hit the brakes.
When he finally looked up, Cecilia was flushed, dazed, lips kiss-swollen and glistening like some moonlit fever dream.
His voice came out, rough and low.
Finally, he looked up. Cecilia’s cheeks were pink, lips swollen and glistening in the moonlight. His voice came out rough, barely above a growl. "If we go any further, you’ll have to negotiate new terms with me."
New terms?
She blinked, adorable confusion written all over her face. "So... uh... how much would that cost? Is this going to set me back a mortgage payment?"
The silence that followed was thick enough to butter toast.
Alpha Sebastian’s eyes darkened, a homing beacon for incoming storms.
He didn’t answer, just zipped up her dress with surgical precision, straightened her hair with a maddening gentleness, and then he left the boat like a man who’d just walked out of a very confusing hostage negotiation...
Cecilia’s pov
Fast-forward thirty painfully awkward minutes.
We’re back at the hotel. If shame burned calories, I’d be shredded by now.
I plastered myself against the elevator wall like roadkill, hair in my face to hide the wreckage.
At 3 a.m., anyone who saw me had the right to demand a refund from their hotel.
Some poor guy stepped in, took one look, and just about pushed the emergency button.
I didn’t blame him.
Finally free on my floor, I staggered into the hallway, making zigzags like a Roomba gone rogue. Halfway to my room, I realized I’d overshot my destination and had to circle back like a bad sitcom extra.
"Wait," Alpha Sebastian called behind me. He didn’t let go, instead pressed a bag into my hand. "You forgot this. Wasn’t cheap. Don’t lose it again."
Oh no. The damn COST word again. I could feel my face burning with embarrassment.
I took the bag, not trusting myself to look up, and half-jogged to my room.
Inside, I let gravity have its way: the bag plummeted from my arms and I drifted through the living room like a sleepwalking zombie, doing laps around the coffee table.
Maybe if I moved fast enough, the laws of shame wouldn’t catch me.
I tried to recall through the fog. "...Pretty sure? Maybe? I had, like half a shot."
She sniffed me and groaned. "Girl, you can’t treaty-negotiate mid-makeout with an Alpha on so little whiskey."
I moaned and flipped onto my side, facing the couch like a medieval penitent.
Harper knelt, poked around the plastic bag, grumbling. "Well, what’s done is done."
Eventually she untied the world’s tightest knot, rummaging through layers: plastic wrap, whiskey, and - oh God - a rainbow assortment of condoms.
Harper blinked, then grinned with scary admiration. "Is this what I think it is? Were you planning a one-woman bachelorette party or doomsday prepping for the apocalypse?"
I let out a strangled whimper, clutching my head. "Not. Another. Word."
She patted my hand, her grin unyielding. "Hey, no shame. If at first you don’t seduce the Alpha, try, try again."
I was asleep within minutes, practically merged with my throw pillow.
----
8:00 a.m. The next morning.
I woke on the couch, wrapped in a blanket I didn’t remember acquiring.
My head throbbed with "bad life choices," and my mouth was Sahara-level dry.
I fetched water - then saw The Bag on the floor.
Suddenly, last night unfolded in my mind like a Netflix recap: the boat, the heat, the hands, the absolutely mortifying "Is this going to set me back a mortgage payment?" line. I nearly fainted from second-hand embarrassment at myself.
I stalked the living room, running hands through my frazzled hair, replaying every mortifying second: my teeth on his throat, our kisses, his hand unfastening my bra, my hand on his abs - oh God, had I tried to undress a literal Alpha wolf? Was this a fever dream or my new reality?
Before my anxious spiral could reach full tornado strength -
"Ding dong - "
The doorbell chimed. I jerked upright, hair a total bird’s nest, hoping to God it wasn’t Alpha Sebastian coming to invoice me for previous services rendered.
With the dread of someone about to walk the green mile, I shuffled over and cracked the door open...

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The readers' comments on the novel: Abandoned Luna Now Untouchable (Cecilia)
Loving the story. But only 2 pages a day. 😢...