Page 158 of Wicked Little Darling

I moved faster, pumping into him harder, just trying to breathe, to focus, to keep control and not come—when he said my name.

I stopped moving, panting as I stared down at him.

“Wait. I—could you do it slower?” he asked, his voice quiet.

Slower? Was I going too fast? Did I hurt him?

I leaned over him and searched his eyes. “Am I hurting you?”

He shook his head right away, and the hesitancy on his face made me want to reassure him.

“I just want it…slow. Go slower. Please, I want it—I just want it…gentle. Be gentle with me. Please?”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He shifted his hips and clenched around me, and I grabbed onto them and squeezed becausefuck. “Dakota, don’t move. Fuck, I’m not even gonna…fuck.”

I wasn’t sure what it was about him right now that was getting to me so much. Maybe the fact that he wasn’t teasing me or joking around at all, but sincerely asking for things and looking like he was embarrassed to ask for them when he usually wasn’t embarrassed about anything. It was a side of him I’d never seen before, and it made me want to just…fucking do every single thing he wanted and make sure he was wholly satisfied. Make sure he felt good and safe and like it was okay for him to ask for whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it.

And then there was a more vicious side that wanted to claim him so aggressively, to leave my mark over every inch of him so that he’d never be rid of me.

But that part could fuck off because he wanted it gentle, and I’d give it to him gentle. Soft. Slow. Easy. Like his kisses.

He deserved the world, and I wanted to give it to him. Just for a little while. Because that was all I could give him—just a little bit of time.

“Okay,” I panted, feeling like I had a tiny bit of control back. “I’m gonna go really slow.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, those dark eyes clouded with lust. His face was flushed, and the marks I’d already left on his neck were red and swollen.

He looked completely and utterlymine.

I started to move again, going in so slowly that I had to grip the back of his thighs to keep myself upright. The feel of him squeezing my cock, the soft, wet heat of him gripping my dick was too much.

“Untie me,” he panted, and I reached above him to pull the knot loose.

“You know you can untie yourself,” I said.

“Yeah but I like it when you do it.” He brought his hands down to my waist, fingers digging in hard, then wrapped one around his cock, lazily pumping his fist up and over the crown.

“Touch me,” he pleaded, the desperation in his voice. “Please, baby?—”

Fuck.

I slid my hand up his stomach, fingers gliding over soft skin, feeling the muscles quiver beneath my touch. An unsteady breath shuddered out of him, and he moved his hand from my hip to my ass, kneading me and pushing me into him.

All my attention was on Dakota, every part of me attuned to the way he felt, to the stilted breaths and quiet moans coming from him.

I was having a really hard time fighting against the fog in my mind, all the different sensations pinging through my body so overwhelming, so far beyond anything I’d ever felt before, that I really had to concentrate on not coming.

“Fuck, Dakota,” I panted. “I’m not gonna?—”

He cried out, and I looked up in time to see his eyes roll back as his whole body trembled.

“Oh, fuck.” He squeezed my ass hard, then fixed his eyes on mine. “Reese.” His voice broke over my name, and my heart thumped hard.

I leaned down and slid my hand into his hair, rubbed my cheek against his like he did to me all the time, and covered his mouth with mine. He groaned and framed my face with his hands, slipping his tongue into my mouth and moving his hips with mine.