Page 110 of Wicked Little Darling

He laughed, then slid his gaze to my right hand. He curled it forward until my knuckles were visible, those dark eyes cataloging the redness there. He moved it up to his face and pressed my fingers into his cheek, his eyes closing, a blissful expression on his face. He rubbed my hand over his cheek, like my hands on him were the only thing he needed, and the fact that someone wanted me to that degree—thathewanted me like that—was making my insides twist up into knots.

I couldn’t stop staring at his face, at the rapturous way he was nuzzling into my hand, and my heart rate jumped when he opened his eyes and pinned me with a fierce look.

“Aren’t you tired of your temper?” he murmured, slowly stroking the back of my fingers. “You act so tough, but I think you just want someone to notice you. And you pretend you’re fine staying on the fringes, never being seen.” He brought my hand to his lips, his eyes on mine, and placed the softest kiss on my knuckles. “But I see you, Reese.”

At that moment, my mind went completely blank. The sudden urge to cry rose swift and sharp, everything he was making me feel shooting to the surface all at once, and I choked back a sob as my eyes watered uncontrollably.

Damn it, how the fuck did we go from kissing to crying?

Dakota leaned down and licked my cheek. “Don’t cry, you know that only makes me hornier.”

A loud laugh exploded from my throat, and the most intense affection surged in my chest, spreading the warmest, softest, feelings through every inch of me.

He’d snuck so quickly past every line of defense I’d put in place, and the way he seemed to know exactly what to say to get a specific reaction from me was unsettling in the most thrillingway—because that meant he was watching me closely from the very beginning, that his attention was on me long enough to have learned things most people never bothered or cared to learn. And hewantedto learn these things. He was invested in some kind of way, and…

It made me feel like I wasn’t alone. When I was with him, that empty ache, that gaping hole in my chest seemed to disappear, and in its place was a lightness I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

I’d forgotten how it felt to mean something to someone, and I wondered how I’d ever let myself forget that.

Dakota’s eyes dropped to my mouth. “Sharp little teeth,” he murmured, leaning closer as he stared at my mouth. “I want them on me again. Your lips, your teeth, your tongue, your hands—I want it all, darling. Will you give it to me? I feel like I’ve been begging you for forever.”

He dragged a finger across my bottom lip, then lowered his head until he touched his lips to mine. It was the softest kiss, could barely even call it a kiss, and it wasn’t nearly enough. I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned up to deepen it while dragging him closer, moaning when he slid his tongue into my mouth and sucking on it greedily. I was so fucking hard, and he felt so good, tasted so good?—

I gasped when he pulled back, grabbed my arms and pinned me to the bed, and then anticipation zipped through me, the playful, heated look in his eyes ramping up my excitement. He put my wrists together and held them with one hand, but when he reached down between us, fingers on the button of my pants, a horrible dread slammed into me at the thought of taking my clothes off. Of him seeing my legs again.

Dakota was watching my face so carefully that his fingers stopped moving before I even said, “No.”

He set his hand on my stomach, those dark eyes searching mine, and oh god, I’d ruined the moment, hadn’t I? I’d remindedhim how messed up I was and now he was going to realize that getting involved with someone like me was not worth it.

Except…he didn’t say anything at all. He smiled and pushed off the bed, leaving me lying there with my arms above my head, and panic and confusion began to take over.

I sat up, wondering if he’d actually decided he didn’t want this anymore—didn’t wantmeanymore—and was about to ask him when he reached over his shoulder and grabbed his shirt right below the nape of his neck, then dragged it off, tossing it to the floor.

And all that skin, all those lean muscles, all of Dakota was right there.

“What are you?—”

“When we were down in the laundry room, you asked me if I wanted you to kiss me here,” he said, sliding his hand over the bulge of his erection.

Oh, fuckme.

“I couldn’t really hold a conversation very well because…well, because I couldn’t think let alone speak. But my answer to any question about you touching me—anywhere, with any part of your body—will always be yes.”

He undid the button, then dragged the zipper down while my mouth dried up and I stared, mesmerized, at his groin. Those pretty hands slid down his shaft, then back up, and my heart was pumping every drop of blood in my body right down to my cock. I was throbbing as I watched him slide his pants down, his black jockstrap clinging to his lean body and leaving absolutely fucking nothing to the imagination.

“No one’s ever kissed me here.” His voice was like slow-moving smoke, curling around my limbs. The look in his eyes was raw. Intense. A little desperate and fuck did I love that.

I wasn’t surprised he was this bold, despite having no experience. Dakota never beat around the bush, was alwayshonest without a drop of self-consciousness. His easy confidence with himself turned me on, and his ability to communicate the things he wanted, the things he was feeling, had to be one of the sexiest things about him.

He got me going in every possible way, and I hadn’t felt this alive in years. All the dulled emotions that had been slinking in the shadows, he’d drawn to the forefront, dusted them off and was letting them shine in his presence.

I realized by putting the attention on himself that he was drawing it away from me and my hangups, that he was respecting the boundary I’d set.

I hadn’t ever met someone like Dakota Voss, and I didn’t want to let him slip through my fingers.

“Take them off,” I said, the hoarseness of my own voice sounding harsh and foreign. I was rubbing myself through my pants, slowly rocking my hips, and when had I started doing that? I couldn’t rip my eyes off Dakota, his movements slow and deliberate as he slid his thumbs beneath the waistband of his jockstrap.

And then he laughed and fell back onto my bed, propping himself on his elbows, those long legs spread wide.