The Burning Shadow (Origin 2)

My fingers curled around the short strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

“I think…” His thumb dragged along my bottom lip, causing me to suck in a short breath as he brought my chin down. Our gazes connected and held. “I think I’m getting a little distracted.”

“By what?” I asked as I pressed into him—

The arm around my waist tightened as a low sound rumbled from him. “By this.”

I froze, eyes widening as my cheeks flushed. Oh my, holy llama babies everywhere, I could feel just how distracted he was.

I didn’t pull away from him. Instead, I got even closer, which didn’t seem possible before but was. We were chest to chest, hip to hip. Heat seeped through my skin, turning my muscles to liquid. There was a rush of new and powerful sensations. I felt empty and aching and wanting.

Groaning, he dropped his forehead to mine once more, his hand sliding to my hip, guiding mine against his. A sharp burst of pleasure lit up my veins. Our mouths were so close, I could taste him on my tongue.

Kiss me.

I didn’t speak those words. They never left my mouth as my hands opened and closed against the cotton of his shirt. His head tilted and his nose skated over my cheek and then to the other side of my jaw. His lips brushed the hollow just under the bone and then again above the place where my pulse beat wildly. I couldn’t breathe. My eyes drifted shut. I wanted him to kiss me. I needed him to—

Luc shifted, and suddenly, we were moving. I was up and then I was down, and a stuttered heartbeat later, I was on the couch, lying on my back. Luc hovered over me, one hand planted in the cushion next to my head, the other gliding down my throat, his touch as light as wings, and his hand didn’t stop there. It coasted down the center of my chest, the soft contact burning through the denim and the thin, loose shirt. He was barely touching me, but my back arched as I clamped my mouth shut, sealing off the sound and the words I knew were seconds from spilling from my lips.

I like you.

The music stopped as his gaze followed his hand, leaving a wake of throbbing heaviness that was full of promise.

I want you.

A tremble coursed through his arm as his fingers reached my navel and then slid along my side, to my hip. Slowly, he lifted those impossibly thick lashes, and the pupils of those extraordinary purple eyes were diamond white, intense and consuming. I became aware of my hands resting on his chest, his stomach, and as he leaned in, my blood thundered through me.

“You,” he spoke. “It’s only ever been you. Before. Now. Later. There’s been no one else. There … just can’t be.”

My lips parted as his words sank through the haze. Wait. Did he mean what I thought he did?

A knock on the door jolted both of us. Disbelief thundered through me as Luc swore under his breath and his eyes drifted shut. His striking features were all hard lines and lush, parted lips.

The knock came again, and this time a voice followed. “I’m sorry. I know you’re busy, but this can’t wait.”

His eyes opened, and those pupils were still a shining, bright white. He didn’t look like he was going to move.

I wasn’t sure I wanted him to.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and in a blink of an eye, he was on his feet, pulling me upward into a sitting position.

“It’s okay.” Dazed, I shoved several strands of hair out of my face as Luc made his way to the door, opening it.

A tall form stood there, and I immediately recognized the black, wavy hair and stunning green eyes—eyes that widened as they caught sight of me sitting on the couch, most likely looking like a sweaty mess. He stared at me like he’d never seen me before, but that wasn’t the case.

“Daemon?” I hadn’t known he was back in the city, especially after he’d said he wasn’t leaving his wife.

“No.” He continued to stare at me, looking a little thunderstruck. “I’m Dawson.”

Whoa.

Good thing I was sitting. It was Daemon and Dee’s brother—the rare third Luxen sibling. Having now seen all three of them, two in person and one on TV, it was like spotting a unicorn.

I’d never seen a full set of Luxen triplets. Daemon, Dawson, and their sister were the first, and I knew they were a rarity since most were killed in the invasion and afterward.

I blinked several times, stunned that they were nearly identical like Luc had said. Good Lord, it was like seeing a mirror image of Daemon. I squinted as I studied him. Well, there were small differences. Dawson’s hair was slightly longer and curlier, and his voice wasn’t as deep as Daemon’s.