Night had fallen fully, draping the forest in darkness that was almost tangible, yet within the secluded clearing, the heat between Dante and Isabella burned brighter than any moonlight. Their bodies were pressed together, each breath mingling with the other, creating a rhythm that neither the wild nor danger could disrupt. The night carried with it a quiet tension, a dangerous calm, yet their desire for each other was anything but calm.

Isabella’s fingers traced the line of Dante’s jaw, memorizing the sharp angles, the faint shadow of stubble, the way his skin was taut beneath her touch. He responded with a low groan, pressing her closer, his hands sliding...