The Darkest Star (Origin 1)

I just wanted to feel—feel what I never did when I was with Brandon. I just wanted to feel—feel real. Like I was a person who existed and who had a past and a future.

Luc’s eyes flared a sudden deep and stunning violet. His gaze lowered to my mouth. An intense emotion rolled across his face. Luc let go of my hand and stepped back, but for once I was quicker than him. I stretched up and slid my hands up his chest, to his shoulders, and I brought my mouth to his.

I kissed Luc.

The first touch of our lips was like hitting a live wire. Little darts of pleasure shot through my veins as the flutter in my chest spread lower. My lips tingled from the contact and my skin flushed, and Luc . . . he just stood there, as still as a statue.

He wasn’t kissing me back.

He wasn’t doing anything.

Oh holy Lord, what was I doing? I was kissing Luc, and he wasn’t even touching me. His hands were at his sides, and I was hanging on to him like a feral octopus.

I needed help.

Serious help.

I let go and rocked back a step and then two. My legs bumped into the bed. The wrong kind of heat—murky, sweltering heat—suffocated me while Luc stared at me like I’d lost my mind, and there was a good chance that I had.

I totally had.

His chest rose and fell sharply.

Mortification overcame me, and words stammered out. “I sh-shouldn’t have done that. I don’t even know why I did. So let’s pretend it never happened? Maybe it didn’t? Maybe this is a weird dream, and we’ll—”

Luc closed the small distance between us in less than a heartbeat. One arm folded around my waist as his other hand thrust through my hair, tangling up in the strands.

His mouth landed on mine, crashed into mine, and I might’ve stopped breathing. He pulled me up against him until only the tips of my toes remained on the carpet and all the interesting parts were nearly lined up, chest to chest, hip to hip.

Luc kissed me—kissed me as a deep sound rumbled from the back of his throat. The little shivers of pleasure intensified. My brain completely shut down as my senses were overwhelmed.

He shuddered against me, and my arms swept around him, my fingers digging into his arms and then in his soft, silky hair. The kiss deepened as the tip of his tongue touched mine.

I sparked.

His hand traveled down my back, creating a wave of maddening sensations throughout me. Vaguely, I thought the overhead light flipped on and then turned back off, but I wasn’t sure and I didn’t care. Not when his hands gripped my hips and he lifted me an inch or two and oh . . .

Thinking was so overrated.

His kisses were devouring and he kissed as if at any given second we’d be ripped apart and he was making the most of those precious seconds. But then Luc moved, and I didn’t even know how we ended up on the bed, but we were falling, topping backward. My back came flush with the bed, and my eyes flew open.

His eyes . . .

They were a beautiful shade of purple, and the pupils were as white and gleaming as freshly fallen snow.

He planted one hand in the bed beside my head and one knee next to my leg, supporting his weight as he hovered over me. “This kiss . . .” he said, voice thick. “This is beautiful too.”

My chest squeezed. I knew he was comparing this to our first kiss, the one I didn’t remember. The one I would never remember. They were the good memories Luc had. Memories I wouldn’t—

“Don’t.” Luc touched my cheek. “Don’t go back there, Peaches. Stay here.”

The crushing pressure eased off, replaced by a different sense of urgency. I wanted more than kissing. I wanted—

“What do you want?” he asked, his gaze holding mine.

“You,” I whispered, cheeks burning.

“You have me.” His thumb dragged along my lower lip. “You’ve always had me. Always.”

My breath caught around a sudden knot in my throat. Raw emotions threatened to rise up and consume me as tears burned the backs of my eyes. I gripped his shirt and pulled. He ducked his head, letting me pull his shirt off. My gaze roamed over his chest, his stomach, and lower.

I reached for him with a shaking hand. My fingers skimmed the dips and hard planes of his stomach, down to the button of his low-riding jeans. Blood thundered.

Catching my hand, Luc pushed it into the mattress, and then he was coming down, his hips settling between my legs and then he was sipping from my lips, kissing me in a way I’d never, ever been kissed before.

His hand left mine, trailing over my arm and then down, under my shirt. Those fingertips brushed over my skin, causing my back to arch. His mouth left mine, blazing a path over the line of my jaw and then down.