Origin (Lux 4)

He looked down, not seeing me at first. Then he lowered his head, brushing his lips across my forehead. My shoulders slumped in relief. I doubted Archer would’ve allowed a round two.

“Whatever,” the man spat, then spun on his heel, exiting the room and leaving Archer to fend for himself with the two of us.

He didn’t look concerned.

The trip back to our cells was uneventful up until the moment Archer said, “Nope. You two are not going in one of them together.”

I whirled on him. “Why not?”

“My orders are to put you two in your rooms—plural.” He punched in the code. “Don’t make this hard. If you do, all they’re going to do is keep you apart longer.”

I started to protest, but the hard set to his mouth told me that he wouldn’t be convinced. I took a ragged breath. “Will you at least tell us what’s in building B?”

Archer looked at Daemon and then me. Finally he muttered a curse and stepped forward, chin lowered. Beside me Daemon stiffened, and Archer shot him a warning glare. Voice low, he said, “I’m sure they’ll show you eventually, and you’ll probably wish they hadn’t. Origins are kept in that building.”

“Origins?” Daemon repeated, brows furrowing. “What the hell is that?”

Archer shrugged. “That’s all I can tell you. Now please, Katy, go into your room.”

Daemon’s hand tightened around mine, and then he swooped down, catching my chin in his other hand and tilting my head back. His mouth was on mine, and the kiss…the kiss was fierce, hard and branding, curling my toes inside my sneakers and stealing my breath. My free hand fell to his chest as the touch of our mouths rearranged my insides. In spite of the audience, luscious heat rose as he angled the kiss, pulling me hard against him.

Archer exhaled loudly.

Lifting his head, Daemon winked at me. “It’ll be okay.”

I nodded and barely remembered walking into my room, but there I was, staring at the bed Daemon had been sitting on earlier, as the door closed and locked behind me.

I smacked my hands over my face, stunned for a minute or two. When I’d fallen asleep the day before, I had been physically exhausted from using the Source and emotionally devastated from what I’d done. As I’d lain on that damn bed, staring at the ceiling, hopelessness had crept in, and even now it still had a hold on me.

But things were different. I had to keep telling myself that, to stop the bleakness from taking complete control. Pushing down what I’d done probably wasn’t something therapists across the nation would suggest as a healthy practice, but I had to. Those hours before I’d fallen asleep…

I shook my head.

Things were different now. Daemon was here. Speaking of which, I had this feeling that he was still nearby. The tingling had died off, but I just knew that he was still close; I felt it on a cellular level.

I turned, eyeing the wall. Then I remembered the door in the bathroom. Spinning around, I hurried into the bathroom and tried the knob on the door. Locked. Hoping my suspicions were correct, I knocked. “Daemon?”

Nothing.

I pressed my cheek against the cool wood, closing my eyes as I flattened my palms on the door. Did I really believe that they’d put us in two cells joined by a bathroom? Then again, they had kept Dawson and Bethany together in the beginning—hadn’t that been what Dawson had said? But my luck wasn’t that—

The door opened, and I tumbled forward. Strong arms and a hard chest caught me before I toppled right over.

“Whoa, Kitten…”

I looked up, heart pounding. “We share a bathroom!”

“I see.” A small grin appeared, his eyes sparkling.

Grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, I rocked back on the heels of my sneakers. “I can’t believe it. You’re in the cell beside me! All we—”

Daemon’s hands landed on my hips, his grip tight and sure, and then his mouth was on mine, picking up that soul-shattering kiss we’d started in the hallway. He was moving me backward at the same time. Somehow, and I really didn’t know how other than that he had skills, he managed to shut the door behind us without taking his hands off me.

Those lips of his…they moved over mine, tantalizingly slow and deep, as if we were kissing for the very first time. His hands slid around, and when my back hit the sink, he lifted me so that I perched on the edge, and he kept pressing forward, pushing my knees apart with his hips. The smoldering heat was back, a flame that burned brighter at the slow, thorough kiss.

My chest rose and fell rapidly as I clutched his shoulders, almost completely lost in him. I’d read enough romance novels in my day to know that a bathroom and Daemon were things fantasies were made of, but…

I managed to break contact—though not much. Our lips brushed when I spoke. “Wait. We need to—”

“I know,” he cut in.

“Good.” I placed my trembling hands on his chest. “We’re on the same page—”

Daemon kissed me again, spinning my senses. He was leisurely in his exploration of the kiss, pulling back and nipping at my lip until a breathy moan that would’ve embarrassed me any other time escaped me.

“Daemon—”

He caught whatever else I was going to say with his mouth. His hands slid up my waist, stopping when the tips of his fingers brushed the underside of my chest. My whole body jerked, and I knew right then that if I didn’t stop this, we were going to waste very valuable time.

I pulled back, dragging in air that tasted of Daemon. “We really should be talking.”