She smells like dusk and smoke and something sweeter beneath it, something that burns all the way down. Before I know I’m doing it, the words fall out of me, drunk and stupid and true.
“You smell good.”
Her eyes flick up to mine, and there’s a glimmer there—something sharp, something dangerous.
“You’re drunk,” she says, but her voice is softer now, low and velvet-edged.
“Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
I don’t remember moving, but somehow she’s closer, her face tilted up toward mine, her breath warm against my cheek. I should pull away. Instead, I tilt forward, my mouth slanting over hers, rough and desperate and reckless.
Her lips taste like everything I’ve been starving for.
And when she kisses me back—slow, sure, inevitable—I swear I forget how to breathe.
Her fingers ghost over my chest, like she doesn't know how dangerous it is to touch me like this. My muscles twitch beneath her hands, not from the alcohol burning through my veins, but from something far worse—her. Always her.
"Luna," I rasp her name like it's a curse and a prayer, my voice wrecked and unsteady as her fingers brush bare skin. She looksup, smug and sweet and sharp, her lips parted like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
I lean in again before I can stop myself. My mouth finds hers and it isn’t sweet—it’s a wreckage. It’s consuming. My hand slides into her hair, tangling, dragging her closer like I need her mouth to save me, ruin me, swallow me whole.
She kisses me back like she’s starving, like she’s waited for this moment and she’s done pretending otherwise.
Her body presses against mine, warm and soft and insistent, and my hands slide down, gripping her hips tight enough to bruise. She collapses back, dragging me with her. I bite her lower lip as I settle between her thighs, the growl in my throat entirely unintentional. She arches up into me, and I don't miss the way her eyes darken when she feels how hard I am for her, how far gone.
"You drive me fucking insane," I mutter against her jaw, my mouth sliding down to her throat, teeth grazing skin, marking her soft enough she won’t forget. Her nails dig into my back, a desperate scrape I’d bleed for, and she whispers my name like she’s surrendering—but she’s the one conquering me.
I kiss down the curve of her throat, my tongue tracing that pulse racing for me, for this. I breathe her in, my mouth finding her collarbone, her chest, every inch of her a weapon and I, the fool walking straight into the slaughter.
When I lift my head, she’s panting, her lips swollen, her pupils blown wide. "Lucien," she breathes, wrecked, her hands sliding up my chest to curl around my neck.
I roll my hips into her, letting her feel exactly how far she’s undone me. "This is going to be messy," I warn, my voice dark, low, wrecked. "And you're going to beg me for every second of it."
Her legs part wider beneath me like she’s daring me to do exactly what I just threatened. Her fingers curl at the nape ofmy neck, dragging me down until her mouth catches mine again, messier this time, a little desperate, teeth and lips and a moan she doesn’t try to swallow.
Her hips roll up against me, her thighs bracketing mine, and I curse against her mouth because there’s nothing in this world, in this cursed realm, that feels as good as her body writhing beneath mine.
I drag my hand down, slow, deliberate, until my palm slides under her thighs, hitching one leg higher against my waist. Her skin burns against mine, soft and scalding, and I take my time tracing my fingers up, brushing the inside of her thigh until she squirms beneath me.
She gasps when I slide my hand beneath the thin fabric of her shorts, her breath catching when I drag my knuckles up, not giving her what she wants—yet.
"Lucien…" My name is a whisper and a threat on her lips.
I bite down on her throat, not gentle, not soft. "Say it louder."
Her hips jerk when my fingers finally find her, wet and ready, and I drag one finger through her slow enough to make her shiver. "You're so fucking wet for me," I murmur against her skin, my breath hot at her ear. Her back arches, and she tries to grind down, but I pull back just enough, my fingers ghosting over her without giving her more.
She lets out a frustrated noise, her nails digging into my shoulder. "Lucien."
"That’s better," I mutter darkly and slide one finger into her, slow, filling her enough to make her eyes flutter shut and her lips part around a gasp. Her walls flutter around me, and fuck, she’s so tight, so warm, it makes my head spin. I add another finger, watching the way her mouth falls open, her breath coming fast now, her body moving against my hand, chasing more.
"You’re going to come on my fingers," I growl against her throat, dragging my mouth down to her chest, her stomach,until I’m right there, my lips brushing over the waistband of her shorts. "And then I’m going to make you beg to have me inside you."
Her eyes meet mine, dark and wild and hungry. "Then do it."
I hook my fingers in her shorts, tearing them down her legs and tossing them somewhere I don’t care to look. And then I settle between her thighs, dragging my tongue through her slick folds slow and filthy, groaning at the taste of her.
Luna’s hips jerk, her fingers sliding into my hair, and when she moans my name like that, like she’s ruined and breathless already, I know I’ll die a thousand deaths just to hear her sound like this again.